Magazine Organization Crisis

I want to keep, keep, keep most of my cooking mags (Cooking Light, Everyday Food, Bon Appetit, Cuisine at Home), and I'd just like to be able to FIND the others until I've had the chance to read them. Thank you, Real Simple, for giving me some options I can live with. None of these solves my problem with keeping/storing/organizing the cooking mags, but it does give me an option for keeping the most current issues out and displayed so I can use them for that month.

Illuzine Magazine Rack

I'd probably use this one to keep current foodie mags displayed in the kitchen.

Crate and Barrel Magazine Rack

Under the living room side table. Or next to the bed.

IKEA Spontan

Bathroom. Solved.

My Writing Ability Appears to Be Limited to 140 Characters

Tweets are about all I've been able to cough up lately.

Some domestic (and otherwise) bits have been happening of late, but I just can't seem to find the time to document or reflect. We leave for Idaho in a couple days for little sis's high school graduation--a day I honestly can't believe has arrived--so immediate updates are unlikely. I'm sure gonna try though!

Last Night I Dreamed Good Things

We moved to Tennessee so I could go back to school (which isn't even something I want to do, at least not right now), and I finally had a baby. It was a great dream. I miss Tennessee. And I want a baby.

A Peek inside My Brain

My dreams this week:

• Mom's cancer came back, and we had to start chemo, radiation, talk of bone marrow transplants all over again. The dream was as real and visceral as when we were in the moment ten-plus years ago. I woke up crying and sweating.
• A group of people was trying to convert me to Mormonism. Many rituals were involved, including me being lowered into a large water-filled tank of eels. This makes no sense whatsoever.
  
• One of our cats, Charlie, a b-o-y, had kittens. And his kittens tried to eat him. He came limping into the bedroom crying, his right front leg in shreds and one eye missing, all thanks to some cannibal kittens.
• I traveled to an unnamed city alone and spent an entire week lost and wandering and asking for directions.

Tonight I will be doing everything in my power to drift off with flowers and rainbows and bunnies and popcorn and babies on my mind.

The Other Half...

...of Something New

So I'm taking the medicine.

And I think I'm finally starting to feel a little better, a little lighter, a little more controlled, a little more clearheaded. At least I hope so. I've had some setbacks and stumbles along the way, but I'm trying to be grateful for them and for what they're teaching me. I'm relieved that I'm actually feeling well enough to acknowledge my mistakes and weaknesses, confront them, and start afresh.

The life I hoped for and dreamed of has seemed SO beyond my grasp for the last year or so. It has felt almost like a dream that I ever believed I could even have that life--the marriage, the babies, the healthy mind and heart, the creative spirit, the feeling of accomplishment and sense of worth. I just haven't felt like myself this last year. I look in the mirror and think, Who is that person? I sure don't know her. And I kinda don't even like her. At all. But I want me back. I want Jen back. And I want to feel like I can dream again.

Little bits of me and of hope seem to trickle in every now and then. I'm not back yet, not me, not there, but I feel like all those layers can be removed. I felt incredibly like myself when I was home with Mom and Dad, and I loved it. I want that. I want me back. I think it's going to take a lot of work though. And it's kind of scary. With the help of the meds, I have to make some dramatic changes in my life, some changes I've been resisting. All those things I want and hope for won't come if I stay on this path. I know that much. But I have been too dependent and weak to admit that I have been responsible for much of my own sadness. I'm ready to fight for the life I want.

So I'm moving forward. And all two of you now know about it. And you can kick my butt for numerous things: stopping my meds, making unwise choices, not honoring my heart and my spirit, not investing in my marriage, and on and on. You know, sometimes you need to just say it out loud. Right? It makes the commitment real, the vow real. Makes the hope real.

I'm not completely convinced that Effexor is the best fit for me. I feel better, but I also don't feel completely like myself. It's the same feeling I had when I was on it before. I'm concerned about asking the doctor for a change because I've read that the transition can be difficult, but I feel like it is an inevitable conversation at some point in the next month or so.

Thanks for listening, Internets.

Mo-Blogging from Strangeville

Got to Mom and Dad's house late last Thursday for some much-needed R&R. I would be satisfied never to leave their house for the next month. I've been so overwhelmed by stress that I can imagine nothing more wonderful than quiet, home-cooked meals, yarn in my hands, jammies on, sketchy cell service. I feel a little guilty that I have left hubby at home to deal with the continuing stresses of life, but I had to make this trip for me. For my own well-being.

I'm supposed to return home Monday. I hope I'll be able to force myself to turn the car west.

Half of Something New

I went to the doctor this week. I'm just not handling life very well right now. Circumstances of late brought about the realization that I needed help. So I'm looking at a bottle of pills. I trust the doctor that that these will help address the paralysis, the catatonia, the crying, the anxiety.

I'm just trying to get up the nerve to open the bottle and take one.