Cold, Dark, and Wet

So Oregon weather has really been a shock to my system. I've actually been completely shocked at how badly it's affected me. Apparently I thrive in a warm, sunny, non-wet environment. Unfortunately, I don't do so well in sweltering arid heat either. So. I don't know where we're eventually going to end up living, but I am starting to wonder what the chances are that I will like it right off the bat. I suspect that relatively soon my doctor is going to send me in search of one of those super-bright, super-expensive anti-seasonal-affective-disorder lights. (I hope not. I'd rather spend the moolah on bookshelves.)

I feel like I'm actually doing much better than I could be. I decided early on to allow myself to dislike the cold, dark, and wet. I felt that in my current emotional state it would be unwise to try and force myself to not be bothered by it. I knew I would almost certainly have a very tough time moving back to Oregon. I also knew that if I forced myself to pretend like I was happy about it, I think what would end up happening is this: I would feel like I had failed when I ended up feeling depressed even to a small degree. And then I would feel guilty about this "failure", and then I would be more depressed. Emotions are weird things, and I know, logically, that shouldn't make any sense, but I think that is what would happen.

So what I've done instead is decide that a less than favorable response is perfectly normal and understandable given my situation, that I'll just have to get through this difficult time, and then later things will be okay. And I think this tactic is working out all right for me.

James, I think, has a different model of brain than I do. At one point, he told me he felt like I didn't want to be happy because when he said something like, "You should just be happy!", I said, "Shut up! Let me mope and stuff!" If just being happy works for you, that's wonderful. It totally backfires for me. If I try to push aside strong emotions, they fester, explode later, and then I also explode, and it is bad news.

So... I guess what I'm trying to say is... Look at me! I'm moping! Isn't that great? I'm dealing with my emotions instead of crumbling to pieces! This is a mighty feat!

I don't think I've ever heard anyone else say that they feel like moping or crying actually helps them feel better faster. I don't think I'm the only one. I theorize that this is just socially unacceptable. Or something. Maybe partially because saying something like, "Let me be sad! It'll make me happy!", seems on the surface to makes absolutely no sense. Maybe instead I should have explained it like, "I have to deal with being sad so I can stop being sad sooner." Yes. That makes more sense. That's what I should have said in the first place.

Wow. This has turned into a much longer explanation of my current emotional state than I thought it was going to be.

Moving on.

Yay! I'm decorating my apartment! By some miracle we somehow ended up with lots of Christmas money, much of which was intended specifically for me to decorate our new apartment with. To everyone who contributed to that fund, THANK. YOU.

I've been astonished at how much my environment impacts how I feel on a day-to-day basis. I kind of knew this before, but I don't think I truly got it. I used to have to beg for months and months and months for something for the apartment, but now I have converted the James. I had to beg for a rug for our hard-floor apartment. Before we got it, James thought we didn't need one. Now he says... yeah, it was probably a good idea. Even now in our carpeted apartment, it is nice to have. I also told him I wanted a couch cover. He said... whatever for? But last night he was trying to think why he hadn't realized what a good idea a couch cover is for a family with small children. When Amelia goops it... washing machine!

Beautifying our home is actually doing marvellous things for my mood. I don't feel like turning around and running when I walk into our apartment. It's great. Of course, we are still lacking a few things, namely a kitchen table and chairs as well as bookshelves.

We are for sure going to build wall shelves, and we're going to need lots in order to house all our books. As I explained last time, that will cost us an estimated $400-$500 if we want to make enough shelves for all our books, and they have to be high up on the wall so that Amelia doesn't climb them and destroy herself. So... we have to wait a month or more so that we have those moneys.

Meanwhile, our apartment is acceptably beautified. Yay! As I mentioned, having a clean, uncluttered, pretty, unclaustrophobic place to live in is surprisingly helpful in combatting my depression and anxiety. I always knew it was important for me, but I think I might even have underestimated its importance. I mean, I guess I've never lived in a place like that, so I suppose it would have been hard to realize how emotionally helpful it'd be, but still. So again, thank you. I spent all your moneys gleefully.

Also, our apartment is getting increasingly babyproofed. We finally magnetically locked a few cabinets. You can't get in without a key... unless you wanted to hire a few strongmen and just rip the door off. James also secured our three dressers to the wall. I now foresee no squooshed Amelias in the near future. All important documents are in a locked filing cabinet, and just in time, too.

Amelia has been doing all right. She... is a mini tornado. But I think she's doing all right. She has rather suddenly begun to sign with us. She uses the sign for potty now, though I can only recall once that she used it when she wasn't already on the pot... and that was when she had already begun soiling her diaper. Still, it is progress. Amelia also uses a sign for bird, and duck, and monkey.

And, call me crazy, but I'm certain Amelia appreciates the decorations in our apartment as much as or more than I do. She delights in the photos on the wall. She points to them, and says, "Meemee!" and "Beebee!" They give her joy.

I'm not certain this part isn't just me being crazy, but I'm starting to wonder if having a decorated room is helping her sleep without me. I got a whole bunch of dollar store wall stickers of cute animals and stuck them on her walls, primarily around her bed. There's a fantastically cute sea monster. There're jungle animals like lions, tigers, monkeys, rhinoceroses, elephants... all over the walls. And ten million butterflies.

Since putting up the decorations, James tells me that she just looks at the animals and points at them while falling asleep rather than screaming herself to exhaustion. (He goes in there and lies next to her to help her fall asleep.) And I haven't heard her screaming on the way to sleep or in the middle of the night since I put the animals up. Of course, I don't have many data points, but still. I think I'm on to something. Friendly room equals friendly sleeping environment? If I had known $5 would have made such a difference...

Huh. So I guess the entirety of this post could be summarized as follows: Guess what, guys? I am almost, but not quite depressed! Yuss! I'm doing so well with this move. Be proud of me.

Love and not-depression,
Jenna