Wednesday, May 25, 2005

P'ROSE: Book II - On Lurching Out of the Lurk , A Comment On Multiple Hellrosis

I posted this this morning, feeling out for a fellow blogger, a HellOnWheels in
  • Multiple Hellrosis

  • ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Lorna Dee Cervantes said...


    All of the above. And it doesn't take a degree to know how depression is but one phase in the hologram of grief. Dear one, "crying's like hating, it won't ever pay". Every grief is layered. Layered upon the last and faceted firm like a crystal; yes: vitrified. It's okay to cry. Best grief counselor I ever had, decades ago, when my mother was murdered, just listened and handed me tissues. My father passed, after a sudden 6-week onset of stomach cancer almost a month ago. I've been reading your blog since early March (I think) when I just started mine and found yours on a blogger list of recently updated blogs one night--or early morning. The sudden, uexpected death of—not a close friend—but a beloved acquaintance in my field from a heart-attack at 40 just has me floored. Whereas I could be strong and dry-eyed through the ceremonies for my father, the passing of this friend, this knowing I'll never see that smile again or hear the wit that preceded it, just tears me up (and I mean that in the long vowel versions although both are intended.) What I try to do is what I learned from a village of survivors of a senseless massacre of mostly women, young men & children in Mexico: "Work is the refuge of sadness." And, as my father, on the last time we ever spoke, said about the incident: "Well, what does it do to take away the sadness?" You won't find that in a pill. But you might find it in yourself.

    Just know you are not alone. Sorry for lurking. I've been trying to deal with my own crystal palaces of passings by cooking pots of beans, roasted a turkey, too much food for too few people, but a reserve for those who remain. And me. I dig holes. I dig wholes. I go to my garden, withered as it is, and pull. I don't care how much it hurts the next morning, how many days it takes to recover. I know I've planted some seeds before the torrent. I've improved the view outside my kitchen window. I think about what stays and what goes. What I can make live. What I create "with my own hands". Those of us who were never handed things on plates. But, make our own.

    And, do.

    Meanwhile, do check out Dr. Gary Null. Maybe And invest in a juicer, even if you have to sell something to get a good, heavy duty one. Dig some holes. I try not to take it personally. But, ya know, some anger is a rational act. And, some anger is the consequence of one of those phases; and is not, rational, that is. "Let it go" was my mantra. (sad about the packing up & selling of effects before the family arriving, the cracking of the foundation of a bond on your blog—all shocks to your system, your body, your heart, the muscle of our, too few, souls.) I try to take out all that sense of the unfairness of it all on the bugs and other critters who get in my furious way. "Take that! Your karma served, Sir Lordly Low Life! I've got things to do." Just kidding.

    Sort of.

    Laugh. Laugh. Laugh!

    Try Rosie O'Donnell:

    and be there, now

    Love on,
    Write on,


    P.S. Depression most often to be found in the Galapagos stew of Multiple Hellrosis (love that title). It's like the weather: so many variations & factors; they don't know. But there are balances, rests, decisions, phytochemicals and nutritional imbalances, some caused by simple medicines that affect digestion & the body's ability to absorb the necessary nutrients for maximum neurological functions. But a hurricane is still dangerous, no matter how many never reach shore, peter out, or fail to appear. Take care of yourself. Imagine a quickie last minute vacation to Isla Mujeres, an island off of Cancun where a woman I know dives, snorkles & swims in the temperate waters to ease her ms symptoms (staying in the shade, but getting plenty Vit D from the sun under water—not getting too hot to flare symptoms.) Also, try the chaya, an unknown Mexican vegetable (just real good food) like a mild tasting spinach & prepared the same, or blended fresh in a refreshing morning glass of limeade, like a tonic & substitute for coffee (if you drink it, now, stop). Anyway, no one buys or sell it yet, but check my link on my blog if you want. If you do, check out Cynthia Huntington at LoveandSalt. Great poet, truly. And, an ms soldier. And check out At least it's a nice diversion, looking at pictures of beaches & reading people's travel reports. Sometimes last minute travel packs, cheap, from weird inland airports like Oklahoma, or Boise. Peace in the body of Now. Love. (that's an imperative) LD

    12:42 PM


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