Still life

I've just finished Still Life by A. S. Byatt and I think I'm in shock. Towards the end of this brilliant novel she delivers such an unexpected, sudden broadside to the plot that it has left me quite literally breath-taken. In order not to spoil the book for anyone else who wishes to read it I shall say no more on the exact circumstances and events. However, yet again I am astounded at the effect a novel, a world of people conjured out of the author's life and imagination, can have on a reader, who never meets any of this people, or enters into this world, except through the author's words. The reader never learns anything of this world and its people than what the author tells them and his or her knowledge is based on what the author chooses, consciously (and sub-consciously, some would argue) to tell the readers. Yet the people live and are passed from one imagination to another, to the extent that, over my reading of this and the previous work in the canon, the world she portrays currently feels more real than the world in which I live. I long to ask her, the author, the god of this paper universe, "why???" Why like that? It is incredible the effect a mere story can have.

Wow I haven't been here for a while. The socks are still on the go - just turning the heel of the second one.

Overall I feel blank, I don't know how I am, or what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling. Healthwise we seem to have hit a dead end, apparently my fibromyalgia is just getting worse. Where does that stop?

I've just got back from church group, so I should be feeling refreshed and fired up, pity feelings don't behave in the way they're supposed to eh? We were looking at John 4-5, two healings, so discussion was on healing. Yay. Just what I want to sit through. Yes, ok, I should have been joining in, I tried, but my brain feels so fogged up right now. There was an awful lot of theorising going on, which always annoys me. I know it shouldn't, but it does, it's easy to be dismissive of "suffering" in theory, but then it's easy for me to be a spaceman in theory, it doesn't mean I'd have a clue how to drive a spaceship. (Possibly a poor analogy? I plead brain fog). I didn't really have the words to defend myself, or put my point across. Though at one point I nearly cried. Particularly when one person kept trying to edge towards the sickness = you've sinned in some way argument. Yes I know I'm a sinner, but I'm also a forgiven sinner, through putting my trust in Jesus, who died for me, for us, to pay the price for our sins.

I just knitted (it was that or fall asleep). I did manage to forget my pattern but my amazing friend Fran texted me the details of the pattern I needed, now I just need to work out why I've got 4 more stitches on one side of my gusset than the other. Well done me!

Feel a bit better for "saying" all that anyhow, once upon a time Amy and I would have discussed it afterwards and I would have felt like I had an ally. Oh well, onwards, if not actually upwards.

Neon!!!

IMG_2136
Originally uploaded by foggyknitter

So I suppose this is why Opal call line of their yarn "Neon". It totally is, so cool! These are the latest pair of socks I started making, the ones I um... didn't quite mean to start. It just sort of happened. Yarn fumes.

For those with an interest in such matters, they are Broadripple from Knitty.com

Hoping when hope is in short supply

My parents have just got back from holiday, perhaps three hours ago. In that time the quiet tranquility of our home has descended into bag laden, hot, exhausted chaos and stress. Stress is back in the building ladies and gentlemen. It radiates in waves off my mother, breaking heavily against us, catching up everything in its path into its swell.

I've already reached a point of being too stressed to sleep, within about two hours of their return and am working hard on unwinding and chilling out. I dread tomorrow, I am already eyeing up coffee shops to disappear to for the morning and already feeling guilty for considering it and leaving my dad holding the baby as it were; feels like a coward's way out. We shall see.

So, how do you keep hope alive in hard times and hard situations like this? How to survive? Mercifully I bought Matt Redman's new album on itunes earlier today (how wonderful is internet retail? No longer need energy to shop!) and the God focussed lyrics are helping so much. I increasingly feel like God is the only sanity in this mad, mad world. When I was despairing at Him just now He gently reminded me that His grace is sufficient for each day, like Corrie ten Boom's railway ticket, He gives me the grace I need to survive each day when I need it, fresh each day, like the Manna in the desert.
"The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning" Lamentations 3.22-3

Living with faith and trusting God seem to be a constant struggle and fight, each day, to believe and with God to get through the day somehow. This morning's verse from "Morning and Evening" (Spurgeon) was encouraging though:
"Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
"You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory." Psalm 73.23-4

I leave you with the chorus of the last song on the Matt Redman album which has been calming me now, the verses of which are a new setting of "My hope is built on nothing less".

"When the mountains are falling,
When the waters are rising,
I shall be safe in you.
Though the nations are quaking
Every kingdom be shaken
Still I will rest in you."

A song truly worth singing.

Frustration

Tonight I'm feeling incredibly frustrated, that wanting to hit out, lash out, stamp, throw myself on the ground and kick and scream and beat my fists against the earth in an attempt to express some of the tsunami of feeling rushing over and through and out of me. None of it is helped by the feeling that it's all such stupid small stuff that is causing this huge volume of feeling. The new "pain killer" (lyrica/pregabalin for those interested in technicalities) is a) not doing anything for the pain and b) causing massive brain fog which means I'm struggling to understand anything, especially my knitting. As I am on a very low dose this may explain part a, I am prepared to increase the dose if that is what my GP considers wise, if it means that it deals with the pain levels. However, side effects without any intended effect is truly frustrating. Admittedly as one of the listed side effects is heart failure I could be said to be getting off lightly.

According to the friendly leaflet that accompanies the pills the side effects I am experiencing are "uncommon", in the "more than 1 person in 1000" category. Aren't I the lucky one? I do have to confess to being sceptical when my GP assured me that most people don't experience any side effects; my body is rarely this co-operative, if there are side effects it generally does its best to experience at least some of them.

I am feeling particularly frustrated because this is affecting my ability to knit and as knitting is one of my main coping mechanisms this is not good, not good at all. Today I spent most of the day recovering from how awful I felt when I woke up, a fun occupation. Yet again that burning pain in my neck and all around my head and the same pain in my legs and at times arms and across my shoulders. Distraction is the best ploy for when feeling like this, because the more I think about how much it hurts the more it seems to hurt. Oh and before any of the Christian mafia leap out and ask, I did pray, I cried out to God and all the cliches. Maybe the Sims, comedy on BBC radio 7 and my cuddly hot water bottle cover Frank (and more specifically the hot water bottle inside his tummy) were God's answer? Well let's just say I'm thankful for them.

As a Christian and knowing other Christians who don't own TVs and go on about how computer games are a waste of time and knowing that we're meant to use our time wisely (the parable of the talents in Matthew 25 and Jesus talking about the harvest is plentiful but the workers few Matthew 9 are the only references that come to mind right now) I struggle with the Sims2. I enjoy playing it, no question of that, but is it the wisest use of my time? In trying to answer this I come back to the general questions of what I am supposed to be doing now, to me it feels like I'm going nowhere, though I know God has His plans and knows what He is doing. But then if playing the Sims 2 (or watching tv or knitting or any other similar past-time) helps me to cope, mentally and with managing pain, is it so bad?

Sometimes I feel like I should be spending all my time growing in knowledge of God and pursuing Him. Certainly spending more time with Him would be no bad thing, but although I try to live in His presence (work in progress - believe me!) sometimes I just need some time off from life. It comes down to trying to survive in the time between now and Jesus' return/being healed/getting better/dying. But we all need recreation and rest, that's something it took me a while to re-learn after becoming a Christian and being incredibly intense about it all. Giving myself permission to relax, to stop, has taken a long time and in the meantime I did myself a lot of damage in terms of the ME and pushing myself.

Anyhow, yet again I feel better for 'talking' this all out; I haven't got many people around to talk to right now, hence a lovely long post. Time to fill another hot water bottle (yes in August), until next time.

spontaneity

Spontaneity is not a luxury I am able to afford; everyday life needs such careful planning and allocation of energy. It is something I am generally used to and generally manage fairly well, with of course the periodic "blow out" for special occasions. Today was one such occasion, as friends I had not seen in a year suddenly asked if they could come for a visit in the evening. It was truly lovely to see them and didn't throw me out too far - I haven't any plans for what is now today (it is currently early on Monday morning) and my only plans for Sunday evening had involved tv and knitting - much like any other evening.

We had a meal out, a good laugh, a good chat, a chance to feel 'normal' for a change. But when they left things did feel very flat. It was like when you shake a snow globe and all the little pieces of snow swirl up and around in the water and gradually settle again in different places to where they had started: I feel similarly shaken up. Things and people I hadn't thought about in a while re-remembered, realising how much I miss having close friends to talk to - especially without Amy around - a window on a different world, a different way of life, a world of doing, rather than of being. A time to count your blessings and try not to be too envious of other people's.

Mercifully we spoke little about how I am and what is going on in my life, I'm bored enough of living it, let alone talking about it to everyone I meet. There's little point unless the person concerned is able to help or be constructive in some way - in sympathy, encouragement, advice or prayer. The jollity and companionship has also made me realise how much time I spend alone and how narrow and dull my life is. They commented on how lovely our house is, which is true, I do recognise that, but often it escapes my notice through repetition - I spend so long here it starts to feel like a prison. Although they did offer to have me to stay, though given the distance they live at and that their flat is up 4 flights of stairs this may be rather less than practical, though very kind nonetheless. I didn't like to expand on this, trying to get people to understand why travel exhausts and stairs hurt is hardly the most jovial of pasttimes.

Now I can't sleep, so I'm writing this. Sleep attempt no.2 coming up, here goes.

I'm feeling real low and hopeless and angry and wanting to cry and cry and cry and cry. Why can't depression ever just leave me alone? Why can't I just have a day of feeling ok? Of not sleeping weirdly and waking up hungover and staggering through the day and only waking up properly at bedtime? I had lunch with friends today and kept zoning out of the conversation, because my stupid knees hurt. Stupid knees, so much seems to be their fault. They stink (not literally, I do wash).

As you may have gathered I'm not feeling the greatest. I know I have a reason to hope. I know I have the greatest and most solid reason to hope there's ever been and deep down, somewhere in some little part of my brain that's still sane and not consumed by this choking blackness, I know this. I'm just not feeling it right now. And yes I'm praying. And I read the Bible. And I'm reaching out to Jesus.

Crying out to God the great Father and throwing myself on Him and crying on His shoulder and trying to let the anger and the storm inside to abate for long enough to let His love through. And I'm asking Him why? and when? and how long? and all those questions that plague us, plague me. Yeah I'm questioning God, but because I know He's the only one worth asking.

And so it goes on.