This Is A Lot

There is just Too Much going on right now to try and write a cohesive post, so it's time to bring back an old favorite... the list post!

1. First and foremost, the world is a terrifying place right now. Coronavirus is in our area and things are looking grim.

They've shut down our schools for the next 3 weeks, which means some of our kids are going to be going hungry because school was the only place they got consistent meals.

People are selfishly hoarding everything, which means that lower income and disabled folks aren't even to get the bare necessities.

And because of fucking capitalism, this virus is going to spread through the masses as we've created a system where missing a single day of work is the difference between surviving and complete ruin for a lot of folks.

I personally am terrified for a few family members who are older and/or immunocompromised.

I can't really do much other than offer to listen if you need someone to unload your anxiety on to, but know that I'm here if that's the case.

2. It's been said a million times in a million other places, but please minimize your contact with others as much as possible. Frequently disinfect communal surfaces. Keep away from family members and loved ones who are more susceptible to illness. AND FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS!

Seriously, I don't fucking care if you think this is "no big deal" or that "I'll survive it fine." Think about someone other than yourself for once and realize that NOT EVERYONE CAN AND WILL BE OKAY! And do you want to be the one responsible for someone else getting ill AND POTENTIALLY DYING because you can't pull your head out of your own ass?

Do your research. Listen to ACTUAL SCIENTISTS AND DOCTORS. Not your bullshit consipracy-esque facebook memes.

3. Sorry, I'm a wee bit frustrated with Certain People at the moment.

4. Because of the virus, huge events are being cancelled everywhere. This is going to severely impact and hurt a lot of indie dyers, artists, and other content creators who rely on these events to make a living.

So if you can, try to support them as much as you can. Order from online shops, donate money, sign up for folks' Patreons... whatever you can do to help make this time less stressful for others.

5. I was actually supposed to be going to the Pittsburgh Creative Arts Festival next weekend with Morgan, but it's been postponed.

Which means that this shawl that I started last Thursday...

And finished yesterday (a mere week later) with the intention of wearing it to said event...

 Doesn't really have a purpose.

Which means three out of the last four shawls I've made have earned that designation.

Maybe I should stop making shawls for events...

6. We know that isn't actually going to happen.

7. Speaking of Morgan, we've been hanging out a lot and it's been AMAZING.

Mostly because they're just an awesome person and the extrovert writing this has sorely needed some human interaction.

But also because they're teaching me to dye yarn.

Which leads me to...

8. I may actually soon be in a position to sell my own hand dyed yarn, something I've literally dreamed about for YEARS.

Morgan has literally thrown open the door to a path that I never thought I'd get close to. (Seriously, I've cried several times over the last few days because of how grateful I am and how overwhelmingly happy I am that I get to do this. And even saying that isn't really a good description for my current emotions.)

I am SO EXCITED to share the plans and schemes I have soon. I think my fellow lace knitters will be happy in particular.

It'll be awhile before anything is finalized and fully set up, but keep an eye out.

9. And if that wasn't enough excitement, I also GOT ASKED TO BE A GUEST BLOGGER FOR YSOLDA TEAGUE!

Apparently, her and her team loved my giant friggin Orchid Thief and would like to feature it.

I'll share a link when it comes out.

But y'all, WHAT EVEN IS MY LIFE RIGHT NOW?!?!?!?!?!

10. And on top of all that, I'm ALSO working on writing up a worsted version of my Rainbomb pattern with the intent of selling it.

I'm making the sample in all affordable yarns, too, so anyone will be able to make it.

I'm not sure exactly when it will be out, because pattern and testing and such, plus trying to figure out the whole yarn business thing, but I promise it WILL be out sometime this year.

11. Is that still not enough? Because guess what?

I ALSO have found my passion for painting again.

One of my favorite artists released a how-to-ish video for watercolor, making this piece at the end.

View this post on Instagram

HAPPY LITTLE TREES! This is the final product from my most recent art tutorial over on YouTube. I had no idea what it was going to be. Still don't know. NAME THE CREATURE IN THE COMMENTS! #watercolor #colorfulpaint #painting #oddart #creatures #howtoart #creativeinspiration

A post shared by Mary Doodles (@marydoodles) on Mar 1, 2020 at 8:27am PST

And I was so firggin inspired that I whipped out my own paints and made this.

I loved that little creature so much that I also made this.

And I started a new Henry piece.

I feel like I'm waking up and living again. I WANT to make stuff. I'm excited to.

I've missed that.

Of course it has to be while the rest of the world is burning down around me, but I guess I'll take the wins I can.

12. And to round us out (and because it wouldn't be a good post without some yarn porn)...

Why hello, there.

This is Serendipitous Wool's Vajra yarn in Forbidden Forest.

And y'all, I've got SOME PLANS for this.

Which I should probably get to.

So I'll catch up with y'all later and leave you once again with this:

WASH YOUR GODDAMNED HANDS!

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Threadbare

I'm tired, y'all.

Exhausted.

Worn out and worn thin.

And I owe all of you an apology.

When I started writing this blog, my only intention was to share my knitting.

Over the years, though, it became not only that, but an extension of my soul. Of all my thoughts and feelings, as well as my crafting accomplishments. A way for me to connect and share with all of you.

But these last 6 months or so (maybe longer) I haven't been honest with you. I've just been plastering on a smile and repeating the mantra that I've forced myself into for so long.

"It's fine... everything is fine."

It was easier.

It was so much easier to just listen to that little voice in the back of my head...

"Just share the good things here! No one actually cares about how bad things have deteriorated inside your head. They're only here to see your ridiculous projects and if you don't have anything good to share, what use are you?"

My goal became to just shove everything down in and survive. I didn't have the energy to focus on myself because I was also trying to help my spouse through their own deteriorating mental health.

Yeah, that's been great, let me tell you, having to somehow learn how to help each other get through the times that our bad days overlap.

We're probably both better off dealing with this than some other people might be because we've been navigating my mental illnesses for 14 years together, but it hasn't been easy. My instinct is to only focus on them, damn everything else.

I almost lost other relationships because of this. I missed the signs of someone close's depression worsening. And while I am already working on fixing these problems, I'm still angry with myself for letting it happen in the first place.

And with me shoving everything down as far as I could and focusing on anything but myself, I ended up having two very bad (for me) suicidal episodes at different points this year. Not to mention a return of the days of all day anxiety. Being terrified to go to bed. Depression days so bad I could hardly breathe.

I thought I'd finally improved enough to not have to deal with these anymore. Or at least not as much as I have in the past. Finding out that's not the case has been soul-crushing.

I just feel so utterly lost right now. I've barely been knitting. Everything I've cast on has been thrown to the side soon after with disgust because NOTHING feels good in my hands. Or I would make a mistake that previously probably wouldn't have bothered me, but now I just can't live with it.

I even tried crocheting again, hoping to bring back the spark of passion with wool. I couldn't even get past the first 4 rows without frogging it.

I had planned on having some new craft goal for 2020, but I don't think I can. I don't even know what my creative abilities are going to look like at the end of the next 12 months.

At this point, I'm just taking things day to day to see what I feel like doing. A lot of that time has been drowning myself in books. I'm on my 14th book since January 1st already. I can lose myself in my stories and try to live through another day.

And while it's been nice to do so, I miss *making*.  I miss the feelings of accomplishing things. I need a goal again. Something to work towards. But I don't know what. I hope Henry comes back to me soon and grants me his favor again.

Until then, I guess I just keep cautiously moving forward in the fog.

As for the blog, I still have a few things in reserve to talk about, including the shawl I finished at the end of last year. So I'll do my best to get those out soon.

But after? I only ask for your patience as I try to find myself again. But this time, I promise I'll be honest about how I'm feeling. I owe it to you.. and to myself.

So, onwards we go, friends.

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List Up Catch Post

It's been a hot minute, hasn't it? This time of year always gets so ridiculously busy between Trails, birthdays, the start of school...

Soooo.... let's catch up!

1. First and foremost, I want to say a tremendous thank you to Debbie for the incredible gift she gave me at the last pj party.

I've already waxed poetic about it on instagram, so I won't subject you to my emotional overload again. (I may also be avoiding making myself cry again...)

2. I ALSO want to thank my aunt Jeaninne for the gorgeous pitcher from a potter local to her.

I also cried when I got this, too.

Apparently, I'm just a crying mess lately.

3. I made another journal!

This one is just for me for more traditional journaling.

It's a little rough because I was trying to remember how to make the dang things as I was going.

4. I've also started on my new bullet journal! And to start it off, I'm doing a Harry Potter themed month!

5. Em and I found a new, fun store to spend all the moneys in.

6. We went to the beach! At Lake Erie!

It was actually the first time in my life that I'd been to the beach. And I fell in love. As did Alex. And now we want to go every dang weekend.

7. We went to a couple other places in Cleveland, too. I managed to get this adorable picture of my darling spoose.

And I found a yarn bomb.

8. I've gotten two more shawls done, but haven't had a chance to write them up yet. But here's a teaser of one.

9. I FINALLY STARTED MY DANG WEDDING SHAWL SO Y'ALL CAN STOP YELLING AT ME NOW!

11. My mantle looks really pretty right now.

12. I don't know if you noticed, but I've kind of given up on the whole "get a project done every month" thing. It was just too much to try and do with everything else going on this year. 

13. And to round this out, I just want to say a huge thank you for being here and reading and supporting and loving and laughing with me. It's been 4 years now since I started this blog and your support has been incredible.

Here's to the next four years.

PS. This post marks my 200th post on here!

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Pause

John and I have this new thing we've been doing a couple nights a week.

While he is driving home from work, I am heating up water... picking out cups... laying everything out just so.

Brewing tea for him, making coffee for me, and putting it in individual tea pots.

I make sure the sugar bowl is filled and my creamer is out.

The curtains between the dining room and living room are closed, giving us the illusion of privacy... at least until the cats start darting through said curtains, chasing each other.

We sit at the dining room table, phones down, and we just put everything else on pause.

It gives us a chance to talk about how we're feeling...really check in with each other. And lately, we've been needing it more than ever.

It's also been a great way for me to refocus my brain when I've had a really shitty day. The routine of making everything and setting everything out keeps my mind busy and slowly my anxiety and/or depression lessen enough for me to handle it.

I know that most of you can use a break, too. So consider this blog post your own chance to pause, to check in, to take a breath. To join us in the partaking of your favorite hot beverage and letting the burdens you bear lessen for just a moment.

You know me, I'm always here for support. And we'll always have a cup waiting for you.

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The F Word

Let's get something straight here.

I am fat.

This is an objective fact.

I'm not "curvy" or "husky" or any of your other empty platitudes.

I am fat.

Don't tell me I'm not. And don't immediately follow it up with "you're beautiful!"

I. Am. Fat.

And I am beautiful.

One does not preclude the other.

My body is large and round and soft.

It has carried me through nearly 29 years of existence.

It has been broken. And hurt. And told over and over again that it's somehow worth less than someone who has a smaller body.

My body requires more fabric to clothe it.

And as a knitter, a maker of things, I have had to learn how to change and adapt my craft to accommodate me.

Because designers don't care to include people with bodies like mine in their works.

So when you marvel at how easily I seem to be able to magically make what I want appear off my needles, know that it's from years of tears and frustration and looking longingly in the distance at the straight sized bodies on parade with their perfectly fitted garments.

I don't love my body every day.

Sometimes I hate it.

Because I've been told since I was seven years old that I needed to be skinnier. That I needed to diet. That because I didn't want to be in sports, I was useless.

And gross.

And deserved to be ridiculed.

I've only been taught to hate myself.

Never to love myself.

By family. By friends. By strangers.

Don't think I've forgotten about the mother and daughter who laughed at me openly when I dared to look at a shirt in the straight sized section.

Or the kids on the playground who would run away from me because my fat body was an object of disgust to them.

Or the caregivers who tried to starve me into acquiescence of their designs for my person.

A lifetime of these stories and experiences.

You tried to shape me into a ball of loathing and disgust.

You tried to beat my spirit into the ground.

But in the dirt is where life grows.

You told me I'd never bloom into anything beautiful, but I defied you.

I grew into a vibrant and untamed bed of wildflowers.

I am all of the beauty that the sad and barren dirt patch of a heart you have wishes it could be.

And spare me the bullshit of "but your health!"

I don't owe you my health.

I don't owe you anything.

I am not your before picture, your dieting failure, your bad example, your cautionary tale.

I am a person.

I am a human being.

With thoughts and feelings and a thousand different dreams.

And none of those dreams include you and your ignorance.

I have had to fight so hard to love myself.

A veritable gauntlet of education, self-reflection, and conquering my inner-hate.

Of tears, and self-harm.

Of looking at myself and wanting to rend the very flesh from my bones.

But now, when I look in the mirror, I don't see the monster you have so long claimed me to be.

I see me.

All of me.

All of my wonder and beauty and creativity and intelligence.

Shining out from this body of mine.

And if we are all stardust, comprised of the universe...

Well, that would mean my greater concentration of mass makes my star outshine all of your loathing and hate.

I am me.

I am worth everything.

I am fat.

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Brave at Heart

So, today's going to be a little weird for some of you. Because this is going to be both deeply personal and incredibly nerdy.

To help with this, (and hopefully to keep you reading) I'm going to finally show off my personal library. Especially since it fits what I want to talk about.

At the last pj party, some good-natured ribbing was happening in the little circle of friends around me. I was being harassed for being a "basic bitch Gryffindor." The people around me were Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and hell, probably a Slytherin, too. I was the single Lion amongst them.

I was trying to not take it personally. Afterall, these were people who I know and love.

But it did get to me a bit more than I realized.

I started feeling embarrassed... ashamed... like I had to apologize and justify why I identify with the House that I do.

"I'm not just a mindless person who only likes popular things!"

I wanted to yell it.

"I have good reasons for why I'm a Gryffindor! I swear!"

It's popular to shit all over Gryffindors because that was the main House featured in the Harry Potter books. So if you identify as a member, you're considered to be just following the crowd.

"You're only a Gryffindor because Harry was a Gryffindor!"

It's easy to look at me and put me in any other House but Gryffindor.

I have the creativity of a Ravenclaw.

The friendliness of a Hufflepuff.

The cleverness of a Slytherin.

But it's Gryffindor that calls to my heart and makes me strive to be better.

To really understand why, first we must examine my history with the series.

I first discovered Harry Potter on a weekend that I was stuck with my dad and his wife. We were at Target, my sister and I forced to just sit around, waiting for her to decide on her next piece of boring beige housewares. My sister and I ended up in the books/electronics section with my dad.

I remember seeing the book on the bottom shelf.

I was entranced by the cover, with the strange bird-horse looking creature, a boy and girl on its back, the shadow of a person in a tower.

I picked it up, opened to the first chapter, and started reading.

"Owl Post" was the name of the chapter.

I sat on the floor and started reading.

"Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways..."

I don't know how long I sat there until being pulled away.

But even that brief moment was enough.

I was hooked.

I wanted more. I wanted to devour everything this world that I had gotten the tiniest glimpse of had to offer.

Dad and Her, of course, wouldn't even consider buying the book for me. She hated how much I read. (Did I ever tell you about the time I had a hardback book thrown at my face while being screamed at for reading so much?)

So, I asked grandma to get them for me.

And being the supporting, amazing person she is, she did.

In fact, she read them, too.

I've read the first 2 books over 40 times each, the 3rd closer to 50. The rest of the series is somewhere in the 20's.

I went to the midnight release for Goblet of Fire.

My room was painted to look like the Quidditch field.

I spent many, many hours of my life pretending to run about the castle with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, having adventures, learning magic. Grabbing sticks out of the yard to use as a magic wand, beating back the dementors.

I, like so many kids my age, desperately hoped that my letter to Hogwarts would arrive at my door. So I could go and be sorted into Gryffindor by the Sorting Hat and be the best student I could.

Anything to escape the hell I was dealing with at the time.

I was, sadly, disappointed in that regard.

I read those books over and over again, to lose myself in the story as often as I could.

I identified with Harry so much.

How could I not? A sad, lonely little kid who couldn't understand why the people who were supposed to love him despised him so much. That sense of hopelessness as the people who did care about him had to watch as he unwillingly went back to his abusers again and again.

Harry could have easily given into the dark nature that those circumstances can bring. To be the cruel, evil person like the people who abused you.

Heaven knows I've been there myself.

Harry had his own doubts and fears that he would become like that. Worries that he was as evil as Voldemort. That he was heir to a cruel lineage.

There were times that he lashed out and gave into those dark impulses. And the consequences for doing so were always painful.

But I also watched as he made the same choice over and over again. To stand up and fight for himself, his friends, the people he loved.

Even when he would lose everything to do so.

He CHOSE to be brave. He CHOSE to throw himself in the way to protect his friends.

He stood defiantly in face of the dark and came out the other side.

Not whole, not pure. But alive.

And it wasn't just Harry making these choices. Almost every single Gryffindor was an example of bravery, courage, and determination. They stood up for their friends and their principles. And to call out those same friends when needed. 

I'm not saying that they're all saintly human beings with no flaws. In fact, all of them were deeply flawed in some way. It made these fictional characters more human. More easy to identify with. 

If they could choose time and time again to be brave in the face of adversity, why couldn't I?

Afterall, Dumbledore told us that our choices define us more than anything.

'"Exactly," said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."'

When I was at my darkest moments, imagining myself curled up in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by my fictional friends, listening to the advice they likely would give me, kept me going.

They would tell me to be brave. To keep fighting. To keep surviving.

And I did.

I stood defiantly in face of the dark and came out the other side.

Not whole, not pure. But alive.

It takes a tremendous amount of bravery to keep going when everything in your head is screaming at you to give up. To just lay down and let the dark take you.

But when you say no, when you scream at that darkness, fighting tooth and nail to defy the odds, to live and breathe and be happy, you are truly the embodiment of what it means to be a Gryffindor.

Sure, the heroes in the stories fight monsters and slay dragons. But us? We fought ourselves. And we're still here.

I choose every single day to keep going.

To defy the cruelty I was taught and choose to be kind, generous, and loving.

To live and do my best to be happy.

And, like Harry himself, I choose to be a forevermore a Gryffindor.

"You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart."

Thanks for letting me ramble on about something that's been in my head for a long time. Hope you enjoyed the library pictures along the way.

We'll get back to the knitting again soon, I promise. Afterall, I have a new shawl to show off.

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