22 January 2011

a photo heavy re-cap of the past few days.

So, my parents found out that I shaved my head just today. My mother, in particular, seemed quite put off. I explained that due to a miscommunication between my care provider and pharmacy, I had been with meds for a couple of days, and made a spontaneous, probably ill-advised decision to shave my head. (Not because I've never done it before, but because it's winter, and I liked my hair. Impulse control is something I think my meds help with.) ANYWAY. I shrugged it off and said I would let it grow out a bit, then re-shave it to make it more even. (The unevenness really seemed to irk her.) This led to this long, irritating discussion about my being mentally ill.

Leatherbacks are the largest of the sea turtles, which I find satisfying appropriate.
They're also pretty damn shy, and adverse to being nagged by their mothers.
Everything you see here is thrifted, and the boots, which I love, are now up on my Etsy
 shop -- just needed to clear out some space. Hope somebody will love these beauties.

My mother, I'm almost positive, does not fully understand (or even care to understand) what my mental illness is like for me, and for my partner and child. Maybe it's a self-comforting thing, a defense mechanism, but it's getting pretty fucking old in the twenty-sixth year of my life. Somehow, my (too weird) hair, and my (too fat) body, my (too different) lifestyle -- I don't think my parents understand that they do not own any parts of me, although they had a hand in making those parts. Every decision I make "reflects" on them, somehow, even though I have a family of my own, and an adult life separate from theirs. I can't make them change. Anyway, it all boiled down to my mother wheedling away at me about whether or not I'm an able parent (I am).

Underneath that layer of nag was the unspoken but implied nag about how I expect to find a job with a shaved head (I don't). A job, other than perhaps some kind of work-at-home thing or something, is just not possible right now. I feel worthless just thinking about it. Admitting all of these things makes me feel like a stupid, disgusting failure. But the reality is, I can barely drive anywhere alone -- I can't even conceive of driving alone to work for any considerable distances. I can't go out into public spaces without risking an anxiety attack. Being sick, somehow, makes me inferior -- makes my mother think of me as a child who requires half-informed and, ultimately, useless nagging from a woman with a lifetime of her own bad decisions under her belt.

Enough bitching -- I know everybody (well, not everybody, but surely many other folks out there) has family woes.

I want to post about our craft! My partner and Baby J seemed to have traded stomach viruses of some kind, so it's been pretty iffy as far as progress around the house, but we did have a really pretty good time doing ....
The Monster Bag. 




Monster fur.

The tote. Cost approx. 1.50.




Supplies (-the bag and a marker). Cost about 4 dollars, plus we'll be able to
continue to use the glue and the pipe cleaners (the puff balls we used almost all of).

Toddler with safety scissors: supervised.

Felt body.

Repositioned, head added.

Two eyes added. Toddler disapproves.
Three eyes are better than two, evidently. Outlined limbs with pipe cleaners
and filled everything in with puffballs.


Adding a gross, huge monster tongue.


The aftermath (plus a cat). Note the decorative foot.

7 comments:

  1. I like the monster bag very much! It's very creative and i would love to carry it for magazines and the odds and ends.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm sorry that your mother is making you feel bad about your mental illness. You are not worthless and it is not your fault. I had major depression with anxiety for a while when I was in college and I completely understand how difficult it can be. Just hang in there, and take it one day at a time.

    <3

    ReplyDelete
  3. TMT: Thanks! It was super fun to make.

    Ms. Ten: That's so sweet. :) Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I hear this 100%, we need more gross tongues and third eyes..

    ReplyDelete
  5. I'm sorry that your mother is making you feel bad about your mental illness. You are not worthless and it is not your fault. I had major depression with anxiety for a while when I was in college and I completely understand how difficult it can be. Just hang in there, and take it one day at a time.

    <3

    ReplyDelete
  6. I hear this 100%, we need more gross tongues and third eyes..

    ReplyDelete