One Woman Revival

If only creativity worked like a candlelight, one that you could spark on when you wanted a flash of inspiration. Instead, it is more like an old water pump that has to be cranked to get the imaginative juices flowing. I find that short spurts of journaling, even about mundane topics, can help keep the machinery well oiled. Now it only requires one or two rotations of the pump to get an idea or two to drip out. But I am still envious of writers or artists that have developed a tap they can open and let the water to gush out. I lit a candle before writing this blog post and it flickers now. I am suddenly unsure that I have anything insightful to share.

Days leading up to Thanksgiving often feels ominous for me as I had my first bout of mental exhaustion around that time three years ago. I had been holding up surprisingly well (or at least I thought) in the months after my husband died but then suddenly in the last week of November, it was as if my brain went offline and every act felt impossible. Maybe it was a breakdown, maybe it was depression. It felt like a short circuit. And then afterwards my brain was tender. The top of my head tingled for days. While I had been previously able to hold in my tears until I was by myself, now they arrived uncontrolled.

I made a doctor’s appointment and was told I could be prescribed an anti-depressant if the malaise did not go away but otherwise there was nothing they could do. Until then my self-treatment of sleep and sobbing would have to suffice. I recovered slowly, initially working myself up to childhood activities, trying puzzles and coloring books until the buzzing sensation in my head subsided. Over the next several months, I had a couple more episodes like this one but fortunately never as severe. I still feel cautious around Thanksgiving though, worried I will overexert myself. So resist the temptation to organize a Friendsgiving though it could offer respite from the memories that follow me year around but grow louder around the holidays.

I had planned to write today about a relaxing dinner at vegetarian restaurant in the Sunset called Savor Cafe. My partner and I normally go there for lunch and the food is exceptional, the proprietor’s gruff demeanor worth it for the culinary delights he creates. Dinner did not disappoint, and we took his recommendation (read: mandate) that we have the Beyond meat kebabs. He accepted our request to try the squash kibbeh and trumpet mushrooms prepared like scallops. All the dishes were divine and I intended to tell you all about this dinner but when I sat down to write, my anxiety for this season poured out instead.