Month: September 2021

Not Writer’s Block

Photo by Jan Kahánek on Unsplash

Lately I’ve been frustrated with myself.  I’ve wanted to write during these past few months.  I’ve especially wanted to fill you all in on my mom’s cancer journey, but sitting down to actually do it has been damn near impossible.

For a long time, I thought what I had was a case of writer’s block. After all, what is a writer who doesn’t write? Someone who is clearly “blocked” by something, right? 

But, here’s the thing…once I start writing, words come out.  I never waste any time staring at a blank screen.  It’s just that I so rarely even see the cursor awaiting input.  I can’t ever make the time.

A few days ago, I finally got sick of my own bullshit, and opened a blank document.  I started typing away with a new determination.  (The end result was my most recent post about finding grey hair.) 

However, what initially emerged doesn’t look like what I posted.  Instead, it was 600 words of self-indulgent navel-gazing.  It was a lot of blather about something that happened a few years ago.  (I guess I still had something I needed to purge.) Blah blah blah.  Whine whine whine. Definitely more appropriate for a diary than online.  

It felt good to write, but I wound up scrapping it. Still, the act of writing got me somewhere.  It helped me realize that what I’m experiencing isn’t writer’s block.  At least not in the traditional sense.  It’s something else.

As I wrote, the source of the problem dawned on me all at once, finally revealing itself;  this is depression. I am actually depressed. 

Oh.  

Well, shit.  

A resounding bell of recognition clanged through my head.  It all made sense…the weight gain and lack of motivation.  Those general feelings of “meh” and “blah” that I find myself succumbing to more often.  

This new knowledge was a relief.  Thinking that “something” is wrong with you, but not knowing what is frustrating!  Now that I know, I have a better path forward.  

The past year and a half changed everything.  I’ve never really been all that depressed, but I’m not surprised that this part of me was amplified.  

You see, depression isn’t always big, earth-shattering sadness.  Sometimes it manifests as a lack of interest and motivation…just like mine!  You can find a list of common symptoms of depression HERE..  Please talk to a health professional if you recognize these symptoms in yourself.

Please do not worry about me. I can promise that I am addressing this.  I am speaking to a therapist.  I am forcing myself to do things which will ultimately bring me joy. (Like writing more!)

Onwards and upwards,

Jennnq

**NOTE:  My mom had breast removal surgery (mastectomy) on Wednesday.  At that time, things looked very good and not inflamed.  They also removed a few lymph nodes, which the surgeon said looked ok.  (She is awaiting further results from pathology.)  She has been healing very well, and is far more active and capable at this stage than I would have anticipated.

The results from pathology will dictate the course of the radiation treatment to come.   I will share more details shortly. She is doing well, and the chemo has done a good job, judging from the results so far. 

Tinsel in My Hair

While fixing my hair in the mirror, something caught my eye.  I could swear I saw a sparkle as I pushed my bangs into place.. Nah, I’m probably imagining it.  In fact, it’s probably just these old highlights.  Time to get my hair fixed up again anyway, and…WAIT!  Right there!  I’d really seen it this time.  Like a strand of tinsel hiding in the dark brown.  

I leaned toward the mirror and practiced deep breaths while I tracked down the offending hair.  I slowly and methodically peeled away the other strands until I held it, alone between my fingertips.  

Not brown.  Not an old highlight either.  This mutant colour went all the way down to the scalp.

I pulled sharply and brought the hair in front of my face.  Are you freakin’ kidding me? Surely this was not anything that belonged on my head.  

What I held before me was silvery-white. Not grey.  Shimmering and white. 

“JASON!“ I yelled, as I bolted downstairs and threw it onto his Ipad screen, forcing him to see it too.  “LOOK!  That came from ME!”   

Jason shrugged and said something very annoying, like, “well, that’s life,” clearly not understanding the harrowing gravitas of this moment..  You see, I simply cannot go grey.  This had to be a mistake.  I am NOT going grey.

I forced him to examine my glorious scalp of heretofore young, lustrous and healthy hair.  Do you know what he did?  He found another one and pulled it out!  The bastard!  He put it next to its sister and I stared at them both dumbly.  These strands looked thick, resilient and strong, but they were undoubtedly….white.

I demanded to know if there were any more.  I begged Jason, in a slightly frantic tone, to tell me the truth.

Jason, not being a stupid man, sensed the effect this was having on my now hazardous mood and elected for the peaceful route. He lied to me. 

And of course, I bought it.. Ha. I’m not actually going grey.  Just a couple of weird hairs.  And we pulled them out anyway.  I mean, I’m not even 40, there’s no way!  

The relief lasted until the next day, when I spoke to a girlfriend with an honest streak.  “Oh, you’ve got greys,” she said, as she indulged me, by also examining my scalp, “I can see a bunch.”

At first, I was upset.  I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone else.  However, I found myself intrigued enough by this new thing that it just kept popping into my mind and out of my mouth. I told some of my friends, but almost every time I had the conversation, something funny would happen.  The friend in question would lower their voice and say, actually, I’ve found a few myself…  

Excuse me?  My friends.  My young and sexy friends are going grey? Impossible.

I called my parents and told my mother over the phone “Oooh, you’ve got your father’s genetics.” she said, quickly absolving herself of any blame in this tragedy.  She did have a point.  I’m not sure the woman has a strand of grey yet.  My father, on the other hand, is plenty grey, but I swear his started later.  He offered his encouragement and declared that I should “wear it with pride.”  

Proud or not, I did some quick googling.  There is evidence to suggest that some grey can be caused by stress (hellooooo pandemic years), and because of that, some people think it can be reversed.

Reversed!  Ok, the evidence for that is shaky, but here’s what I’ve managed to gather: If you are stressed, you need to relax. (Deep stuff.)  You also need to eat plants.  Lots of plants.  (You think that’s enough plants?  No.  Not enough. More! Go crazy with them.)  Because some raw food vegans swear their diets have reversed grey.  However, even  if you stuff yourself on exotic fruits and cruciferous veggies, you still just might be doomed to snow on the roof.

Hmm…Can I get an estimate on how long this all-salad approach will take?  

This whole thing is weird.  Up until now, I hadn’t even considered the prospect of grey hair.  I wasn’t expecting it to show up for a few decades yet. I’ve always said that if I did go grey, I would just dye my hair anyway. That I didn’t want grey hair.  That I would never “embrace it.”

But when I first saw it, it was beautiful. It didn’t strike me as ugly at all.  When I spotted it, it shone silvery whilte.  It looked like it belonged to a unicorn or something. Like…kinda pretty.

Honestly, I’m probably going to keep dying my hair.  Not to hide the new “sparkles,” but because I still think lime green, blue, magenta and purple are more fun colours than anything I can grow naturally.  

Still, I might just let my silvers show through.  Once I earn a few more of them.  They’re not so bad.