The days are going by so fast. Summer is in full swing, all heat spikes and thundershowers. I try to notice. I do well at a slow pace generally, even if I am sometimes restless. The thing is, I don't quite know what I'm doing in life, especially since the camera has added a new dimension. I am used to computer and journal and whatever book I'm reading at the time. And that's it. An occasional trip out to get nachos or sushi for special. I have grown used to the simplicity of that and I really appreciate it after all the rough and tumble of schizophrenia. But I mulled it over for a few days, what to do with my wonky camera-printer system and I decided that I would try a used Apple laptop, one with a disk drive so I can install both camera and printer on the same system. I found one for $299. So my ultra on sale camera package is a bit of a money pit after all, but I'm still getting a good price on everything. I have missed Apple anyway. It will be nice - and luxurious - to have one again. I know they wear well and I decided this was better than buying a new one with an external drive - cheaper and more to my taste anyway. I'm kind of old school by nature. I don't like having to say goodbye to shelf stereos and all that. In any case, I will be able to print and that is important - the enormous printer is just sitting on my table under wraps just waiting for something to happen. For my next project, I want to uncover the mystery of shooting in black and white so I can take pictures of my parents' hands. I took a picture of my mom's hands in black and white about ten years ago now, and I loved how it came out. I had it enlarged and framed for her birthday. But then I had an episode and I took it off the wall and broke it. I had lost the negative early on in a similar way. My whole life is in the city dump now. I will try again though and hopefully I can resist the urge to purge from now on.
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I always get inspired looking at my bookshelf. I have always been a reader, but for many years, with schizophrenia, reading made me too nervous and I was unable to do it. Until last summer. For some reason I was able to rise above my discomfort and read a few paragraphs at a time. I opened an account with Amazon and began ordering some new books and just a few old favorites - ones I had lost copies of during my years of purging my possessions. My journals are more sane now too. Thank God. When I was really sick I made notebook after notebook of scrap and writing, and I was going through them last weekend and I was just dismayed at how crazy they were. I remembered how it felt to have my writing hijacked like that, by insanity. It was really hard. My journals at best are just entries about everyday life. Yesterday I wrote about an injured baby bird I found in the kitchen. It had come from the fireplace. I write a lot of grief-stricken stuff about my former life, when I had a fairly normal mind and a lot of ability, which gets really boring to read, actually, But read it I do, because I'm trying to discover where and when I'm not doing ok and when it's fine. I will allow myself the grief for a few more months, then I will want to see some variety in my feelings and thought.
This is my 20-year-old Jeep. We have been through a lot together - schizophrenia, divorce, trips across the country... And the tree is a Dogwood tree that my mother planted when we were new here. It's still weird to see it fully grown. The summer is so beautiful that I like to get the green in. I have been writing a lot in my journal for the past week. The arrival of the camera, as I have said, is kind of a big deal for me. It's not the key to my return to the working world, but it is good for recovery, a concept I now allow for as a possibility. I have been hibernating for several years with my Haldol and my naps and my depression. Just three months of Latuda and I am already happier. It's a welcome change.
I don't know if I will post a picture with each entry or not. This is a photograph of the lamp I stare at while I'm writing in my journal. It always reminds me of my mom, who bought the lamp many years ago. I hope it doesn't seem too much like lonely person's photography, but since that is what I am - lonely - maybe that's what it is. I like the lamp. Well, I have been on a wild researching campaign, the printer doesn't use the same os as the camera (I think). I have been thinking like crazy what to do, when in fact if I take it slow, a solution will arise. At least I can enjoy the photography. Actually, my Dad and the lamp were the main two photographs I wanted to take. I will have to venture out more, which is part of the reason for the camera. Otherwise it's pictures of my dinner or something like that. I remember twenty years ago when Hiromax made that kind of food photography a thing. I would only photograph a major piece of baking like a pie or something like that. Not pictures of my vegetarian hot dogs and sandwiches - or even my vegetables and brown rice, which requires more effort than the microwave. I don't mind when other people photograph their dinner, I just don't want to photograph mine. I thought I could take some pictures of the people I see every week, the girls at McDonald's, the waitresses at the sushi bar. But I am a little shy, so maybe it will take some time. Plus, it's too hot right now to take the camera out. 107F last week. Not that I would leave it in the car or anything like that. But really, I think it likes the air conditioning in the house... I am going from strength to strength on the Latuda. I am sleeping fewer hours a day and am happy during my waking hours. I did have an episode a couple of days ago, which interrupted my no smoking resolve. I don't need to smoke, but I like it at night to relax with. I thought the cigarettes would calm me down during my crisis. I think it worked, but I need to think of another solution, as I would like to quit the cigarettes. I will have to rename this page if I quit. That would be hard to do. I have been having tea and cigarettes to deal with my schizophrenia for 17 years. Something like 80% of all schizophrenics smoke. I think it's to have calm breathing time. That's what it is for me. But I can do breathing meditations a little now, those are new to me, and I can still have a cup of tea. Maybe this can be the cup of tea and photography page. I don't know. I have to get more bold with my camera. It's nice to think that taking pictures could ace out smoking in my life. My doctors would be pleased, as would my parents. I would be happier too, of course. Maybe I want to quit worrying all the time. I am working on that now. Trying to establish some minimum routines so that I have less flashback trauma of everything falling apart. This just means cleaning up regularly around the house and managing my money well, stuff like that. Things I can - and have to - control if I want to get to the end of my life without homelessness or some other disaster. The Latuda is making these improvements possible. I am no longer hibernating like I did with the Haldol. But I still have episodes, which are quite debilitating when they happen. But when they are not happening I am able to enjoy life more with the new medicine. I guess I just needed an antidepressant pretty badly. In any case, the change has answered my original complaint which was lack of motivation and anhedonia. So things are looking up.
My camera arrived just a day after my last post and the above picture was my first assignment - a portrait of my Dad for his Facebook page. The arrival of the camera is exciting and I am going to enjoy working with it, but I keep having pangs of longing and guilt for my old system, the one I destroyed because of hearing voices. It was a beautiful system. This one is very good too, but it's just me giving it a try. It's my Toshiba Satellite laptop groaning under the weight of its new responsibilities. Secretly, I am a little proud of myself for getting this far on my own. I think my ex-husband would approve. That is, if he's not ready to throttle me for ruining the old system he put together. I am taking it all really slowly. This morning I did the laundry before I could play with my camera. I wanted to pace myself, so that I can remember what I am doing and learning and become useful with it. I have to completely dismantle the higgledy-piggledy organization of my desk and clear it off for the printer, something which I will start on tomorrow. This camera is making my life more complex. Until now I had no camera, everything was simple and I had plenty of time to think. Now I am busy with the camera and its set-up. It's like old times, when I was working with a camera all the time. I don't know how I feel about this. I am slow and nervous. I don't want to become overwhelmed again, because this camera has to be my last and I need it to endure. No temper fits because of voices or whatever reason, just slow and steady. It's like having a baby in the house, I notice the dust and I want to make everything fresh and new for the new arrival. So, I'm doing this. It's nice, it's not leading to anything important like putting bread on the table. It's just for pleasure and exploration. I downloaded Lightroom and Photoshop, the 30 day free trial and will have a little fun with that. But I miss my Wacom tablet and my two monitors and my scanners and all that loveliness. This has been a breathtakingly expensive illness. But for now, it's just one thing at a time.
I have been steadily improving the past two and a half months on Latuda. I really needed more antidepressant! I think that on Haldol I had periods of happiness and activities, but was mostly subdued and depressed. Now I want to breathe life into my future and not just wait to die, like I was planning, on Haldol. I am encouraged by my efforts. Yesterday, I bought a camera. It's supposed to arrive by next Tuesday. I am kind of excited. I say 'kind of' because I'm not quite sure what exactly I have in my life to take pictures of - there are no friends and my brother won't allow photographs of himself... I'm left to pictures of my dinner I suppose... It kind of poses a challenge, because up to now my life has been very simple and manageable. On facebook I just share posts that I find, stuff I like, and my dear little blog here is just the basics. I don't know how I will work my camera into my life but it will be interesting to try it. It's stepping up for me. Again I credit the Latuda. I had been thinking of buying a camera for some years, but I didn't know what I was looking for. The one I got was a on a tip from a dear friend from uni on facebook. I was so glad he had taken the time to link me! I happen to have the money right now because of some arrears from SSI. I have to spend the money, or they will debit my monthly deposit. Hence, camera is on it's way. I spent a couple of hours today downloading lightroom and photoshop - a free 30 day trial offer. It was nice to see photoshop again. Hopefully I will enjoy it in the future.
I have been quite reflective as of late about all the years I have had of awkward social situations, being nervous, overcompensating. I decided that much of what I say in real life to people has it's origin somewhere other than my own mind. I would get so nervous that I would wildly grasp at anything to say and ended up being quite weird. In my journal, I wrote that I thought much of my conversation was the work of puppet masters. A legion of angels and devils acting out through me have both thrilled and embarrassed me. I'm much more myself online, but still, I think that all my thoughts are somehow the work of others. I feel quite peaceful with this. It helps the uneasy regrets that I have. I remember being surprised and out on a limb with much of what I had to say, sometimes needing a disclaimer. Some people think that they are their own mind, but I think I am not of my own mind. Schizophrenia makes that clear to me. Rash thoughts and statements are the work of young devils and agreeable ones are the work of angel/guardians. That's my impression. I don't think I will ever have my own thoughts, but I can choose and govern a bit, so as to improve my general impression. I have worked very hard to reason out with the meanest and unruliest of my voices and to an extent I have found relief. It's a bit like Thich Nhat Hanh's process of watering the compassionate seeds in my mind so that they are the ones to grow and flower. In the online chat page I visit, I caution young schizophrenics not to be fascinated by the horror of the voices. It can lead to really crazy thoughts and actions, sometimes dangerous situations and activities. Many young people there come in talking about demons and so forth and I think it is important to take charge of the onslaught and weed out what you can't live with. I was a bit lucky, I didn't get schizophrenia until I was 34 years old. I had a lot of life experience for reference. Most schizophrenics though, are in their teens and twenties, struggling to finish school and resolve the job conundrum when the illness strikes. They don't yet have independence and success under their belts. So to them sometimes these voices and visions can seem very special and important. I say it isn't so. To me, it's being highly disrespected by the universe to have the onslaught of voices and visions that characterize our illness. Instead of turning away from the world of 'normal' people, I think it is an important reference to be aware of. I know I am not normal, being schizophrenic, but I remember what it was like making normal life decisions and having normal happiness in my life and relationships. It is an anchor to my drifting consciousness. I work really hard in my online chat to be a good listener and an intelligent responder. Not impressive intelligence, as if in school or something like that, just a gentle, warmth. A pleasant and hopefully wise voice. I think it's my best so far. I would like to have more practice in real life, but my social life is a bit bare. I rarely see anyone. When I do, I'm still nervous, but I have developed honest answers to questions such as, 'what do you do?'. I just tell them I have schizophrenia and I am on disability and that I used to be a filmmaker. It feels better than fudging my resume. I think the truth does set one free. In that sense, I am not alone anymore, and my schizophrenia is shared knowledge among friends and acquaintances.
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