Carol's corner

It's strange how the human mind works.  You go about life being brave and strong on the outside.  On the inside you're paddling madly to stay on top of the water. Nobody sees that.  Nobody wants to see. This past little while, I've been struggling to deal with my own self and with himself as well.  On a bad day, I can shove my clouds back and find the ray of light to bask in, to find the warmth.  On a good day, I bank that light for when I need it most.  For those darkest of dark days when I can't find the ray. When you have your own mental illness to deal with, dealing with someone else who is unmedicated or unbalanced is stressful at the least, dangerous at the most. Not only is it taxing on my system, it pushes me closer and closer to mental and physical exhaustion. Think of an electric wire.  Looks nice and calm, but inside that wire thousands of volts are constantly humming, or the Duck on the water, calm on the surface, but under, paddlin...

Kindness comes in all forms.  Doing something nice for others because you want to.  Doing something for someone because you know they need it. A simple gesture or words. I've been out of sorts lately.  The five year anniversary of "the incident" hit me hard.  More so because we had had such a lovely day.  The kids and I.  To come from such a high and to have the cloud yanked out from under us, or me, so abruptly left me in a tail spin.  The week long barrage was nothing short of horrific.  I've never come so close to letting it all go since I was in high school. That scared me. I have been so distracted and distant from my own self it's alarming.  My internal panic at my situation has me cutting my ties with myself and I'm worried. Or was... I went out with some friends on Friday.  I wasn't in the mood to go.  Not in the mood to be around people at all really, but I had promised to bring one friend to the gathering.  I ...

Another year and the kids are back to school again. Grades 5, 3 and 1. Where was I in fifth grade.  I was starting at Claude Watson.  Huge change for me.  Getting tiny wings in taking the bus so far from home to school each day.  Learning that I wasn't just "Linda's little sister".  Learning that I have talent on my own. I look at Bean and I marvel at how much like me she is.  How utterly and achingly like me she is.  So strong in her personality, and how deep in her own self doubt. I don't know how to help her.  Even less when I'm so deeply mired there still. In grade three...I have fuzzy memories of my teacher constantly telling me how Linda did things better than I did.  Grade one, only memories of Ms. Brown having us all in a circle reading us stories. I should be grateful that I have those memories at all. It's been five years that we've been on our own.  Five years of struggling to be both mom and dad.  Five year...