Yesterday was hot. When we went for our walk with our friends at 8:45 and it was already 26°! It was a stunning morning walk in such heat because there was also a gentle wind keeping us from overheating. I went to do some shopping afterward; I got stuff for Paula’s visit for a barbeque on Sunday night. And then I came home to work on the wasteland—carefully, so as not to disturb the baby Junkos.
But … the baby Junkos were gone! I was able to work without freaking out the parents, but I could not work for too long at a time because it was so bloody hot. By 1:00, it was 32° and sweat was pouring off me; thankfully I have my lovely cool, cool, cool log home that has ceiling fans in every room.
I kept at it until 3:00. I’m making good progress. I am very satisfied with my pace and the outcome of my labour. I’ve done, I estimate, half the wasteland. When I came inside, the cats were comatose in the porch and Sheba was likewise gone on our bed. The heat affects us all.
When I went to bed, it was still 32°! I cannot remember such a hot spell as this ever in my life here on the West Coast.
I watched a program on PBS last night that had me sobbing. The Mysteries of Mental Illness (episode 2) talked about PTSD, homosexuality, depression and gender dysphoria, but more than that—much more than that—they exposed the societal and individual impact of the mental health inventory of mental illnesses published in the 1952 Diagnostic and Statistics Manual of Metal Disorders. I wrote a post a while back about a video conference I participated in about FND that was an epiphany-like experience. So was this film.
All the insights I’ve had over five years with Dr. Shoja, have come from me. Education has come from her. These films and conferences, all presented so, so credibly, backing up everything stated, also educate me. This film talked about the shame one feels with the kind of diagnoses I have received. And … the film reveals the shame one feels about being weak.
I’ve known people who’ve gone through worse things than me, who are thriving. The shame I feel for myself for having my condition is a big piece of my mental health jigsaw puzzle. I wrote in my post about the conference, that I felt that many loose ends had been re-integrated into the fabric of my life narrative. This film did the same, with more loose ends I didn’t even know about.
Not all of it was good, though.
The film dealt with Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. No Fucking Thank-You! If I’d fallen into the hands of a CBT therapist, I’d dead or in a cell now. Therapy: Yes! CBT: Not for me! I’m very glad to know that. I like Dr. Shoja’s approach: She helped me comfortably assimilate my life and my diagnosis; it wasn’t about the past. Her focus was to help me learn to live with my symptoms.
Today has begun early! I was out watering the gardens and loading all the stuff I want to sell at the neighbourhood garage sale, into the car. I’m taking them to Kevin’s and Shelly’s for the 10:00 sale. I never know how things are going to go, so I’m going to their place in case they have to speak for me. I don’t know, what with all the strangers and sales involved, how my speech will be.
Next up, before the sale starts, I’ve to walk Her Highness and it’s stinking hot already! After the sale, it’s back to the wasteland.