Collapse - Up Close and Personal

WARNING! My thoughts are of such a dark nature these days that I have been hesitant to share them. I thought about starting another blog where I would be more anonymous. I don't want to concern or hurt anyone in any way. But for my own sanity, I want to share openly about the things I perceive. If you think the subject matter might bother you, please do not read further.

It becomes more and more difficult for me to function within society. I overestimated my readiness to return to the workforce and took on 3 new jobs in one week. It was a costly overestimation. I'm now down to one job 35 hrs/wk and having difficulty maintaining it. I've only heard one description for the type of anxiety I'm experiencing - PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Last Thursday, 3 hours into my shift, I had a major panic attack followed by an emotional meltdown from which I'm still reeling. I could not regain my equilibrium that day and had to leave work early.

The first thing to be affected by an attack is my breath. Suddenly the air will not move beyond the top of my chest and the more I try to force it, the worse it gets. The panic rises with each shallow breath, I feel the sweat break out on my face, noises become unbearable: the ding of the cash register, the jolt of static from the radios, the hard light, the hard people. Sights and sounds begin to merge until nothing feels solid anymore. Reality is a full-steam ahead freight train headed straight your way. Logical thinking disappears and pure instinct is all that remains. My language and actions are hard to control and the only option that seems practical is to GET THE HELL OUT!! As soon as possible!!

The job is a cashier position at a local home and ranch store. The rate of pay is a new low for me, but I like the store and it's grand central for gardeners in the area. This was my 2nd meltdown in the three weeks since I started, but the first happened at the end of a shift and I was able to regain my footing, however tenuous, until Thursday. For the following 18 hours I just cried, a lot.

I've spoken with my parents, always loving and supportive, and my mental health therapist with whom I have an appointment on Monday. I also spoke with my manager at the store and he wants me back next week. Sometimes kindness makes me cry more for awhile although I've learned to be leery of it as well. It often comes with a high price-tag, although I don't sense an underlying agenda here. That's one skill I've been steadily improving.

When the oil disaster in the gulf began, everything I've leanred over the past few months became more ominous. I think it's impossible to become really aware of the state of the earth and her inhabitants and not be affected by it. Media news would be laughable if it weren't so sad, and bad I might add.

Did you know that GM and an american electric conglomorate are buying large swaths of Brazilian rainforest?
They say they're acquiring "carbon credits", business as usual only they seem to know the commodoties are going to be oxygen, clean water and farmable land. Big Auto, Big Oil and the government show no signs of remorse or responsibility. If you still think anyone whoever ends up in the White House is not a puppet already, I feel sorry for you. I had high hopes for Obama. Now I have none.

Did you know that Henry Ford gave his wife the electric car he designed because it was so much cleaner, more efficient and easier to maintain?

There is one thing I don't think the big guys are counting on: not only is it not nice to fool Mother Nature, it's impossible. We are part of Mother Nature and when we abuse her we abuse ourselves. If she dies, we die. Even if they counted on disastrous climate change, they must realize it's a total toss of the dice who will make it and who won't. All the carbon credits in the world won't save them from our fate.

Despite working through a lot of my own denial about civilization's collapse, and even more importantly, the extent to which we as a nation are complicit, I was still shocked to see BP officials and the Coast Guard working together to cover-up what's happening with the "spill". I wonder who asked the locals if they thought it was a good idea to pour toxic dispersants over an already over-heated Gulf of Mexico. Might as well call it the Gulf of Texaco now. Trust me, the gulf is not a "big ocean" as that asshole from BP would have you believe.

As the earth warms and warms, my blood runs cold and I despair. I can't tell if the PTSD is post or pre. The only safe place is the present and I find it increasingly difficult to stay here. I'm practicing DBT skills in earnest: tactile information. What do you see, feel, hear, right here, right now. Touch something. Hold ice in your hand. Breathe if you can. Ground. Small ritual helps a lot. I add to my compost pile. I help Peggy in her garden. Every bite of fresh food is sacred, clean water a blessing beyond belief, the warmth of the body next to me comforting. I call that prayer.

Mom says we just can't think about these things and I know she's right - we can't dwell on them. But I am unable to not think about it. I could go back into one of my addictions or bury my head in the sand some other way, but I won't. It would never feel right to me. If all I can do is be a witness at this point, I'm goddam well going to be an awake one. I may be herded into the inferno along with everyone else, but I'm going with awareness and hopefully a little courage and a whole lotta grace. By the way, if I thought I could distract myself from what's coming, I probably would. My distractions are currently all used up.

So I gather dandelion greens. I watch the hummingbirds, the red-tail, osprey and eagle. The sky is still blue even if the Gulf of Mexico is black. Right here, right now, I have what I need and I am grateful.

Red-Tail Reverie

Well, I have to say after my last post I was a little afraid to see the comments. My anger still gets the best of me sometimes. A blog is a great place to let that steam off without hurting anyone else. We're all going to need to find ways to let off the steam without injuring our surrounding environment, including the people in it. Like I should have to mention people, but have you noticed they seem to be the least valuable commodity in the spotlight these days? Right next to the great mother herself, our home, our paved-over, dried up, crippled, wailing, moaning Earth.

It was critter central at Blacktail yesterday. The sun came out for the first time in a week and the afternoon warmed to a gentle air-bath. The chipmunks and chickadees were feasting on the seed I put out; the robins were fat with their red puffed-out chests and then we got a very special visitor. Brent and I were sitting on the deck taking a few minutes to enjoy the sun before he got back to framing in the entrance and I got back to filing for bankruptcy. (FREQUENT breaks are required for that particular process!) Anyway, one of the largest red-tail hawks I've ever seen came flying our way (which they do often enough on the mountain), but this one really put on a show. He was playing on some thermals that were apparently right over our heads and he swooped, dipped, dropped and soared for at least 10 minutes. He was so close the patterns in his underwing were fully visible and lit from behind by the afternoon sun. He was gorgeous. We were blessed.

This afternoon it's expected to reach 70 degrees and we're going to take the kayaks out on their inaugural voyage. Tomorrow, too. One of my goals for next week is to get some of my pictures on a network I can access at the library so I can put photos up. I finally end up on a little piece of Montana heaven and haven't put any pictures on my blog! Crazy.

I'm doing a trememdous amount of reading on collapse, energy descent, peak oil, climate change, permaculture, responses and solutions. I'm not just fascinated; I'm compelled. Of course, some people will insist on calling it obsessed, but again I say: so what? Also next week I'll put up a list of what I'm reading and fill you in on ways I'm figuring out to compromise on what I 'd like to do (have a garden, chickens, root cellar, rain-catcher, compost, and a goat) and still make a difference. Of course, the campaign continues with Brent. I thought I had him talked into two chickens but he talked himself back out of it just as quickly. But we're doing great. This morning he told me I'm the perfect woman to be here with him. A lot of times I don't like the ways in which Brent is right. But I agree with him on this one.