Rae Rose

Watching Elro enjoy the outdoors where I grew up made me realize how the landscape shaped me and made me wonder if my mom and dad’s decorations also influenced me. So, I took a little tour of my house and the answer is, yes! I see pieces of my personality as well as what kind of things I’m drawn to making strung all over the house. Here are some examples:

Monkeys in love.

Two of my mom’s rugs — she uses them to decorate in every stage they’re in which I think is awesome.

Elro enjoying my bed.

I bought and painted (and added paper) to this house box. My mom added this ceramic scene.

A simple, handsome bird.

Lots of different kinds of pictures on the wall (taken by my dad) with a vintage mirror.

Adding quartz to a shell.

My grandmother’s needle point.

I think of this little plush girl every week.

Thanks for taking a little trip to my favorite things inside the house I grew up in!

♥️,

Rae

The absolute main way I deal with anxiety is with creativity. Anxiety is a destructor and creating something, to me, feels like a solution.

Here are some ways to become more creative:

Pinterest! Get and pin ideas.

Keep a craft journal and draw out your plans.

Find out what your friends do to get crafty and join in.

Planning the craft is the most therapeutic part for me. There are always certain items I’m looking for and thinking about. For example, thinking about this little thing got me through a tough week. I wanted to find vintage salt and pepper shakers to use as vases. It’s a simple idea but I got to think about what stores to shop at, if I could make them picture frames, too. I switched from an anxious thought to a vintage salt and pepper hunt. So soooooothing.

Today I was at Target buying some diaper related stuff and found these guys on clearance for two dollars each. I loved that they all matched so I bought them — and I immediately started thinking of the next project I want to do. I’m glad I developed this habit to trick my brain from focusing on negative thoughts. ♥️

I was following a poetry prompt from The Mighty because I’m trying to strengthen the poetry muscles that motherhood weakened.

The prompt was to write “behind our illness.” I personified my illness and wrote the following:

—-

Behind My Lashess

is a woman built of broken glass,

inky veins,

barbed wire cats hissing,

fireworks in bloom.

She plays the top hits of the 80s,

collects shrieks before death

and rainbow anything.

I hate her.

——-

I posted it to Instagram and was then unrelatedly contacted by a woman asking if it was true she could be married and have a baby because the doctor who diagnosed her as bipolar told her that — yet I was obviously married with a baby and super bipolar.

I immediately deleted my poem before she saw it because I didn’t want her to think it’s okay to think your illness is another complicated person inside you — a part of you you’re allowed to hate. Expected to hate. 

Should I hate that part of myself? It has brought me grief and pain… but without it I couldn’t help anyone. If rather be a ray of light than just a basic Rae and all my experiences have brought me to my current situation, which happens to be gorgeous.

I asked my brother what he thought and he said, “Expressing something artistically doesn’t necessarily count as self-hate. It might make things better. Is the expressing transforming the artist more toward healing(of self, of others) or does it build momentum for the deathwish and/or self-hatred? We all have complicated relationships with the parts of ourselves we struggle with.”

Then I thought about all the times I’ve written about my illness as a negative thing that could destroy me and — naming that can be powerful. It has helped me. It has given mE a complicated villain I can defeat. Telling the truth matters. There are some cute felt animals on this blog and plenty pics of my wonderful daughter….but now there are barbed wire cats hissing as well.

And that’s okay. Because it’s true.

It’s March and my March resolution is to stop apologizing constantly. I’ve replaced most of my apologies to “thank you” as I’m usually apologizing when help is offered.

This week’s goal is to paint a tree in Elro’s room. Here is a leaf I made for it:

I’m trying to get back into writing poetry more often, so I’m reading more poetry which is the key to learning how to write it!

Our tabletop policy (nothing in it but flowers!) is going strong! Makes everything more peaceful in the house.

I’m still adjusting to my new meds but it seems to be getting easier.

The featured picture and the one on the leaf was taken yesterday and makes me feel like spring is coming. ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ I can’t wait. That’s probably why I’m painting a tree in Elro’s room while it’s pouring outside.

Here is a quote I found for the week in a poem by Marge Piercy:

The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.

♥️

Have a great week! Here was our February in the one second a day app:

♥️This is a great, thrifty project to organize your upcoming craft projects, homework — anything!

1. Found this frame backing at a thrift store. 2. Put some fabric on it that I love with an adhesive. 3. Added clothespins with hot glue gun. And that’s it!

It’s now ready for my next project!

♥️,

Rae

::This is a guest post!::

I’m a legally blind one eyed artist and disability activist that makes work using a variety of 2D & 3D mixed media. The aim with my art is to educate people about living what it’s like with a disability while also making art accessible  to those with disabilities. My goal is to have everyone enjoy art at the same place and time — bridging the gap between those who are disabled and those who aren’t.

Recent work:

Sunday is a day I think about the goal I set on Monday as well as how my week went (what I made) and what my upcoming goal will be.

On Monday I decided to keep our kitchen table clear. Nothing on it but flowers. This might seem obvious but we were in a habit of dumping stuff on it and it’s the first thing you see when you walk through our door! It gives me such a peaceful feeling now that it’s clean and pretty.

I finally put up this wall hanging I made in the nursery. The felt cow is supposed to be jumping over the moon buuuuuut I’m short so I’ll get to that later. Found this print on etsy and will search for shop name.

Loving this braided frame and picture of my grandmother.

I know that my goal for March is to stop apologizing… right now I’m noticing just how much I do it! Yikes. For Monday my goal is to not look for things I think I need online and use what I have. Basically a spending freeze but for craft supplies. So I’m going to organize what I do have. I’m excited about the upcoming week!

My quote going into this week is an excerpt from a poem by Mary Oliver:

“Instructions for living a life:

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it.”

♥️,

Rae

A co-morbid disorder called PMDD that kicked in when I was 29 was running my life for years until very recently.  My doctor found a way to treat it, though if you’re like me it’s difficult to treat. Because I’ve had a stroke birth control is off the table but I hear that works for some women.

I double my Prozac and my klonopin for the 10 days before my period to try and save off the worse than usual insomnia, the fatigue, the thought patterns that are very destructive and basically try to convince myself I’m unloved and unlovable and should go somewhere to die.

Before it was treated I remember being in a field, literally pulling my hair out and screaming for it to stop. Years later I still know when it has started.

I think it’s ten days before my period, look at my app’s calendar and boom — right again.

One thing I hate about this disorder is that everyone in my life needs to be aware of it because they can’t tax me with important convos or ask me to make big decisions. This is basically Kardashian time. Especially now that I have a baby. I have to make sure to get the sleep I need to stay sane and to not listen to self hate.

It’s now manageable, but I still don’t like that everyone knows exactly what part of my cycle I’m in.

The intrusive thoughts are with me all day, worsening every day until my period starts. Here is a sample:

Thoughts

Sharing your thoughts is pointless

Why did you think you could have a baby? 

You’re enormous. 

You’re such a failure.

You’re not a crafty person why are you wasting your time?

What are you even doing with your life?

Why are you wasting time with a blog? No one cares. You help no one.

— My husband got home and I told him about the thoughts, saying, “they’re intrusive.”

A thought answered me: “You deserve it.”

Sigh.

♥️,

Rae

Today on Instagram I saw a post that said: “Mom Sleep — It’s like normal sleep, without actually sleeping.”

It made me feel terrible. I’m talking deep down shame.

The last time I talked to my psychiatrist I said why — why on earth can’t my body sleep? Why do I require drugs to knock me out? He said it has something to do with a bipolar brain’s wiring.

It made me think of a broken heater or a broken computer. It made me feel broken.

When I was on a typical pregnancy site I asked if when you get a c-section do you have to sleep with the baby — because I can’t do that.  Everyone asked what I would do when the baby comes. I explained that because of my medication my husband would be on call at night. One woman replied, “lucky.”

Lucky.

Lucky that I have to take medication to knock myself out in order to function, lucky that I’m basically helpless to my daughter in the middle of the night, lucky that my body can’t do a typical, normal thing it should totally be able to do.

And it never really did. That makes me sad, too. As a little girl I was so frightened, so awake, so troubled and so totally unaware of what was happening,

But I suppose this is my version of MY “mom sleep.” I’m redefining it.

“Bipolar Mom Sleep. It’s like sleep, except your body can’t sleep so you knock yourself out with heavy drugs and sometimes it doesn’t work and if that happens you get manic and if that happens all hell breaks lose and you could possibly lose everything you love in your life. Bipolar Mom Sleep.”

Okay, okay. FINE. I’ll trrrry to think of it like:

“Bipolar Mom Sleep. You take the right drugs at the right time to get healthy sleep to stay sane and happy.”

♥️,

Rae