This is my first time back to Southern California since I came down for the funeral in August. I knew I had changed a lot since then, or rather I had been changed by that singular even that steamrolled over my life and has left me damaged. It's funny, the way the PTSD works. I go days and days feeling completely normal, whether because of the drugs or because I just don't think about it every five minutes anymore. And then there are days when something happens to trigger it again, and I feel like I'm not quite connected to myself anymore.
Being here has been really odd. It's been years since most of my friends lived here, but this is the first time that it's felt quite so empty and dead to me. It's like the part of me that lived here, that part of my life, is completely dead now. I drive down the streets here, and it doesn't feel like life is going on in the houses, or like families live and make memories there. It just seems cold, like concrete. And it's a way bigger area with a lot more stores and coffee places and restaurants and stuff, but it feels like I'm suffocating from being around all these people. It's just a city full of memories I don't know if I want anymore. I'm ready to move.
The spinning has been going good, and I am really enjoying it. It's a challenge, but one that I feel is really suited to me. It works well with my compulsion. I'm the kind of person who can't see paint chipping without peeling more of it off. The more detailed something is, the more absorbed I can get in it. It's meditative, in a way, because it allows me to turn off my brain for a while. I also cannot rave enough about the woman who sold me my wheel. She has been wonderfully helpful and attentive, and you should all go check out her shop on etsy:
Heavenly Handspinning Spindles and Wheels.
Here is my first yarn spun on it, still on the wheel:
And a little closer up:
It's roughly the same, quality wise, as my first plied yarn on the spindle, with slightly more variation in thickness. At this point, it's a matter of practice, just as it was with the drop spindle. The wheel might take me a little longer to conquer because there's more all going on at the same time, but I'm sure that with time I'll be churning out some really nice yarn on this baby.
And here is the yarn in the bath:
I'm ready to go home to my husband. I'm ready to move out of this state, and into someplace new, and a new chapter in my life.
Labels: anxiety, life, photos, spinning
