An Anger That Won't Go Away

My manic episodes are rage. Screaming, swearing, sobbing. Tom understands this and talks quietly and reasonably to me. It would be infuriating, except that I know his primary concern is that I not have a heart attack and die on the spot. He used to sit me down in front of the TV, which oddly seemed to work, as watching it must have engaged some other part of the brain, diverting the fuel from the fire. I don't watch TV anymore. Can't concentrate. It could be a problem.

When I was first diagnosed with depression many years ago, a very intelligent psychiatrist asked me to tell him my story. He stopped me about halfway through and prescribed SSRIs, a particular form of anti-depressant. I asked him if I would have to be on these for the rest of my life. He looked at me over his glasses. "With your history? Absolutely."  Hmm...  Didn't even bother to hear the rest of the story. It seems that after three major depressive episodes, the brain loses it's ability to properly process serotonin, and never recovers. We all have a little pool of serotonin in our brain and in a correctly functioning brain, that little pool manages to stay full. In a clinically depressed person, the serotonin just drains away, and you are left with an empty pool, a hole in your head that nothing can fill.

I learned years later, after trying several SSRIs, that this particular family of drug can actually make your manic episodes worse. Interesting. Did the medical community know that then or was it just a guessing game then as it now?

Let's talk drug side effects. Do you listen to those commercials on TV for drugs for every condition under the sun? The list of side effects usually concludes with "even death." Enough said. Anti-depressants cause them all.

There's more, much more. But let's leave a bit of the unpleasantness behind. There are a few things that might help. Light helps. Early morning light in the summer, a light box built to specifications for the winter. This is one of Tom's summer projects. Physical activity, exercise, also can help. And then there is good old positive thinking. I don't mean to scoff, as this has possibly helped me more than any other treatment over the 40 years I have tried to cope with this condition. There is great comfort and beauty in small things, as Wendell Berry says, "The Peace of Wild Things."

Well, I expect you are sick of reading for now. I am sick of writing. But more will come. The betrayal of family. The exclusion. The deception. The good times that are forgotten in favor of the bad times remembered. It is enough to make you slowly peel your skin away, in an effort to forget the present, and become the real person you know still exists inside the old person you have become.

Enough. I am telling this story now and I don't care if anyone at all reads it. It needs to be said, and by God, it will be told.

This is Tom. Come August 18th, we will be 30 years sober and 30 years together. And, apart from the occasional rough patch here and there as you might expect, 30 years happy. He is extraordinary, though there were times I had difficulty convincing him of that. He knows it now. You say, "I love you," often enough and your beloved comes to believe it. When my deep sadness comes, I still need to be told. And Tom obliges.

Let Sleeping Dogs...

 

 

A beagle named Molly, with velvety ears.

Since my last entry in 2009, much has happened. In 2012, Tom injured his back and was forced into early retirement. He's been in agonizing pain ever since and unable to do the things he needs to do, as well as the things he wants to do. We are reaching the point where his doctors are veering away from opiates and trying other procedures. Hopefully, something will work!

My situation is somewhat different. After being diagnosed with depression for more than twenty years, the doctors here determined that I have bi-polar disorder. After trying numerous medications, we have yet to find any that seem to work. I am still largely inactive, find it difficult to keep up with errands, and even simple tasks around the house. But for the moment, I'm doing somewhat better. A momentary improvement.

At some point, I'll talk about the pitfalls and stigma of mental illness. But not today.

Today I am going to show you the face of mental illness - my face. I took these pictures some time ago for a lark. It was a dreary day, I wanted to play with my very nice camera, and I wanted to see how I looked in a few new clothes. I posted some of them on Facebook. They were the cheerful shots, but here you will see the ones that are not cheerful. Well, you'll see what I mean.

When I looked at these photos, I saw a woman hiding....wrapped up in scarves, shielding her face. I saw sorrow. Almost all of these photos show depression. And yet, I thought I was doing better. But the shadow is there. It is always there. It never goes away.

It's four-thirty in the morning and I'm sitting in the dark, trying to find words for something that cannot be expressed. The inevitability of grief creeping over the mountain like the cold mist in the morning. The knowledge that it will come again and again, and all the learned men and all the carefully consumed pills, will never defeat it.  The prayers and the pleas, the rest of my life on my knees, won't touch it.

And yet today I chased ten little chicks down the road, and looked up at the sky through the slowly unfurling leaves of spring. Touched violets in the long green grass and chose not to pick them, but to let them grow as long as they might. Rubbed the velvety ears of a little dog sleeping.

I cannot reconcile these things. The great grief and the blinding beauty of this life. I don't understand. And I have had a long time to think about them. A long, long time. I don't think an answer will come anytime soon.

The Santa Train

When I read about the Santa Train in the newspaper last year, I knew that this year we were going to have to try to catch a glimpse of it. The closest - and easiest - stop for newcomers like us seemed to be at Fort Blackmore which is a few miles up the Clinch River Highway. We stopped there at The Front Porch, a little store and gas station, and got good directions. But we could have just followed the crowds! We found the crossing, waited with a group of about 150 other train seekers, and at last the Santa Claus Special rolled in, it's horn tooting. In the picture above, you can see this year's special guest, Wynonna Judd, standing beside Santa.

There was candy in the air as Santa, Wynonna and the other helpers tossed out toys, gifts, wrapping paper, and lots and lots of candy.

The video shows The Santa Claus Special coming into the crossing at Fort Blackmore. Make sure you watch till the end! I guess the holiday season has officially begun in Scott County.

The Bounty Continues

All summer long a steady stream of produce found its way to our door from our wonderful neighbors, Odas Qualls, Charlie Grizzle, and James Carter. We had corn, tomatoes, beans, cucumbers, peppers, greens, potatoes, and more. And it's still continuing. Today I came home to find a big bag of turnips left out front by Charlie Grizzle, some of which we had with our supper. The jar holds homemade apple butter given to me today by Aunt Wanda, who I met for lunch along with Judy and Nila. It was a little birthday present and I sure will enjoy it!

Here's a picture I took earlier this summer just because everything was so pretty.

And here's a picture of Barbara holding the biggest cabbage either of us had ever seen. She took this one home for Aunt Doretta. We were certainly grateful for the bounty from our neighbors, and I for one am already looking forward to next year!

The Birthday Present

Sometimes it's the littlest, unexpected things that make the best birthday presents and this year I had one of those wonderful gifts. On the day before my birthday Barbara and I visited Zella Peters, who was married to Harold Peters, our cousin who died very young from a motorcycle accident. I asked Zella if I could swing in her porch swing a little and she said yes. Then, she told us that this swing once belonged to Abe and Mable Peters, and that Harold got it when Mable broke up housekeeping. And Zella has kept it all these years.
It's possible that this swing was made by our grandfather, Noble B. Peters. He was a carpenter and lived right next door to the new house Abe and Mable built on Copper Ridge, so he would have been a logical person to build a swing for them. It's a good sturdy swing with a comfortable seat, and if you drop by to visit Zella, you might want to swing a little. You'll enjoy Zella's company, the wonderful views, and the old-fashioned porch swing.

A Day on the River

The TVA Roundtable and VA Fish and Wildlife Commission co-sponsored a canoe float trip on a section of the North Fork of the Holston River on Saturday, October 23. For $5 per person you got a boat, paddles, life vests, lunch, a guide and a little education on the health of local Virginia rivers. It was a deal we couldn't pass up. After meeting at the commission office in Abingdon, VA, we headed out for our put-in location, about 3 miles upriver from Mendota. It was misty and drizzly all morning, but clearing skies were forecast, so the decision was made to go forward. The shot above is from the swinging bridge where we launched the canoes. You can see it was pretty overcast.

We all had some gear to tote along with us. Apart from barely being able to swim, I could never take up kayaking because there'd be no place to put my stuff! I ended up with a food bag - our lunches were packed in paper bags, so it was lucky I had that one - a gear bag with camera stuff, tissues, rain poncho, etc., and I had to have that stuff, right? Then I had two blankets to sit on in the bottom of the canoe, and I'm old enough that I had to have those, too, so they don't count. So, maybe I didn't overpack after all ?!? You can see by the way the Craleys are dressed, it was cool as well as wet. If it had been a misty day in August, we'd all have been out of our boats.

Here are Nadja, Alex, and Mike heading out.

This is really the only shot I have of Cait because she was in our boat. She paddled awhile, and then I paddled some, too. Tom and I had a canoe years ago, but gradually went to bigger boats. It felt good to be back in a canoe again, and I think we'll be watching the ads for a couple of good used boats.

Lexi and I were both snapping pictures. Here's a good one of her.

It's easy to lose time on the river, so I'm not sure how long we paddled till we stopped for lunch. Maybe 1 1/2 hours. Here Nadja and Mike enjoy their subway sandwich, chips, cookies, and water, that was provided. We added in some Pepsi and Goldfish and ate like royalty.

A few houses and some farmland line this section of the river. It was all pretty scenic and we'll have to drive back over that way to make sure we can find our way back to the same spot. We'd like to do it in summer on a prettier day.

Here's Justin, our guide, from the Fish and Wildlife Commission. Not only is he very knowledgeable, he has learned how to travel light.

This nice little beach is where we all put-in. Justin had scouted this spot a few days earlier and told us there was seven more feet of beach then. There was a hard rain the night before our trip and the river was running high and muddy.

Occasionally we had to wait for other boats to catch up, and here the Craleys are taking a break. Look at that mountainside behind them....there was scenery like this all along the river. Because of the mist, the pictures don't do it justice.

There were several little riffles and we dragged bottom a time or two. It was hard to pick a line with the water so muddy, but we didn't do too badly. A few of them we flew right through and that was fun!

There were some pretty good rock faces here and there mixed in with the farmland and here's a small one. I couldn't get a good shot of the big ones because the Craley boat was always somewhere else. Those darned kids. Too busy having fun.

Here's a better shot, and though this rock was closest to the water, it was by no means the highest we passed. That's a railroad bridge in the distance.

Just around this bend is the bridge where we took out the boats, so this is the last pretty shot of the river. We had a great day on the water, in spite of the weather, and the girls were so worn out they fell asleep in the car.

And this one I titled "We Made It" in my files. One of the gals snapped this of all of us to commemorate our first canoe trip down here in Virgnia. We all had fun and can't wait to get back out there on the water. If we don't have our own boats by spring, there's another trip planned on the Clinch River in May. We'll be signing up.

A Wish Fulfilled

Sometimes you have to wait a long time for the things you really want. When I was a 15-year-old schoolgirl, I was lucky enough to spend four days in France and three days in England. I loved the Loire Valley in France and the splendid chateaux, but it was the villages of the English countryside that really spoke to me, and for 3o-odd years I longed to go back. Finally in 2003, Tom and I made that long trip and it was everything I had hoped it would be. But I'd loved the beautiful houses along the Loire and that may be why I longed, too, to see Biltmore, the Vanderbilt home in the North Carolina mountains, based on the three famous chateaux that our school group visited - Blois, Chenonceau, and Chambord. I remember reading about it in the AAA guide book when my children were little and thinking, "Well, there's no point in going there yet...." And I confess when we decided to move down to Virginia, one of my earliest thoughts was how close we would be to Biltmore. You know by now that I've finally been to Biltmore.... and it was everything I hoped it would be.

It turns out my cousin Barbara had never been either, and so with Tom's blessing, we made it a girls' trip and had ourselves a big splurge. As we had opted for valet parking, we were able to drive right up to the front door of the house as the Vanderbilts' guests would have done in 1895 when the home was first built. We could almost imagine ourselves in a carriage, clip-clopping up the long drive, marveling at George's masterpiece. The two photos here show the front of the house and the mountains in the distance.

We did the basic tour this time as we had never visited before, but we collected some good info for our next visit (yes, we're already planning it!) and the rooftop tour is high on our agenda. Here are some folks on that tour atop the Grand Staircase, fashioned after the one at Blois.

Architectural detail and a darling little piece of statuary, the significance of which I have no idea!

We had folks snapping our picture both days, so you'll be seeing a lot of us. And here we are in front of George W. Vanderbilt's 250-room summer home.

Thursday, our first day, was beautifully warm and sunny, and so we spent it outdoors, and saved the house for Friday when rain was forecast. This bust is one of several in the pergola.

This is one of my favorite shots, showing the pergola on the left.

Here's Barb in the walled garden with the conservatory in the background.

There were clever gardening ideas, like this birdcage display, everywhere we looked. I'm going to gently start nudging Tom in the direction of turning our kudzu patch into a wild garden. The seed has already been planted... I'll keep you posted.

And this is one of my favorite shots of Barb. She sat down and said, "aaahhh!" I snapped this picture, then sat down beside her and said the same thing.

I'm sorry, I never jot down what plants are when I see them. It's a failing of mine. Anyway, I call this "Christmas Balls." Aren't they dear? They're about the size of a walnut or maybe a little bigger.

And here we are relaxed and happy, resting, which we did a lot!

A variety of hibiscus, I think? Anyone gardeners among my readers?

After our stroll through the gardens, we hopped on the shuttle and went to Deerpark Restaurant for lunch. The lantern shows the scale of everything at Biltmore - BIG - but beautiful.

Our lunch buffet included estate lamb with apples, herb crusted mountain trout, southern chicken and dumplings, whipped potatoes, autumn squash, English pea salad, Waldorf salad, apple bread pudding, spice cake, chocolate raspberry torte.... Scrumptious food, served in a beautiful setting. We enjoyed every minute of it!

This shot was taken in the center courtyard, a nice place to sit for a few minutes after your meal and plan the next part of your visit.

We opted for a quick trip to River Bend Farm, where traditional crafts and skills are still practiced. And since I'm not a gal to miss a photo op, here we are on the wagon, ready to roll. I swear, I act so much like a kid, people must think I'm nuts. Really. Truly!

This particular barn stall was home to a horse who liked to gnaw! And this particular photo was the last one for the day. After this shot we headed for our hotel, as we had done as much as we could for one day. It was time to get some rest.

After a swim in the hotel pool, and a relaxing 15 minutes in the spa, we were off to bed. And after a good night's sleep, we were back at the Biltmore gate early the next morning, so early in fact, that we had to browse 20 minutes in the gift shop before we could go in. Oh darn. Here's a picture of the gate taken while we were parked at the gift shop. The first day we just drove right through it, following everybody else, and didn't even think to get the camera out of the bag.

As predicted the weather had turned gloomy on Friday, so we were really glad to get to the house. These two photos should be flipped really, with the carriage gate above instead of below. I'm sorry if I'm confusing you. The carriage gate is pictured below and leads into the courtyard, of which the picture above is a part. Just showing those of you who've never been there some of the amazing architectural detail.

This picture was taken through the window of a locked door - thankfully! It's the confectionery and I'm really, really glad we were there before the Courtyard Shops were open. There also have a book shop, a toy store, a Christmas shop, and possibly one or two others, as well as a cafe.

Needless to say, photography is not allowed inside the house, but the door to the loggia was open and some kind folks snapped our picture. The views from here were fantastic....

Similar to this actually, though I took this photo from an open window.

And these few photos I took simply because I could. We were up in the maids' hallway on the fourth floor and the windows were open. It was too tempting just to put the camera up against the screen and shoot. This domed roof is over the Winter Garden in the house.

More architectural detail. See the little window set in the roof? I took these photos from one just like it. Although I was in the hallway, the maids' rooms had these windows. Each maid had her own room, matching furniture, and heating source. Their rooms were bigger than our bedroom, honestly, they were. I bet all the local girls wanted jobs at Biltmore, not only because of the rooms, but because of the benevolence for which the Vanderbilts were known.

A vista shot to the Temple of Diana on the far hill. Do you see the "V" cut in the trees? In the old photograph in our guidebook it is a bit more pronounced. But you can still see it here.

And this is the spot we were hoping to find. This view of the back of Biltmore house is featured in a lot of the books and gift items but we couldn't find the road to get there. Finally I asked once of the docents in the house and she gave us precise directions and we were able to locate it. I look at these pictures and wish we had found this the first day when the weather was beautiful - and then I remember we're going back!

In the picture above, look at series of arches on the lower right of the house. That's the loggia where Barbara and I had our picture taken.

And thus we ended our first trip to Biltmore Estate. I felt the need to drive the scenic loop once more, and so we did, and then made our way slowly along the three mile drive back to civilization. We were sorry to leave.

Our disappointment was eased by the beautiful mountain scenery on the way home, as the fall color seemed to have become more vibrant in the thirty-six hours we were gone. This shot was taken at an overlook on I-26 southeast of Johnson City. Just writing this has made me want to plan another trip now. Some of the Christmas decorations were already in place at Biltmore house....wouldn't it be lovely with all of them?