Little Bird, Little Bird, Are You There?

Hello, hello, hello everyone. I’ve missed you! Yes, sorry, I’ve been MIA for about three weeks. That’s one of the joys of being me–I feel so good on borrowed time, and then I’m down for the count. But I digress, this past “low” wasn’t so bad, I just had to desire to write let alone think. However, in my time away, an obvious epiphany has emerged that rounded and rounded inside my head and the words came to it just a few days ago: being mentally sick/disabled for a year was hard, but becoming well (getting there) and starting my life again feels so much harder…because it requires effort. There’s no madness to lay down to anymore, it’s time to get UP, LIVE, feel this breath go through this body, remember my passions and ambitions. And so on. And so I’ve begun planning some great changes that I’m excited about and scared about. Humph, I guess I have been busy the last three weeks…I’m moving back to the city I left before I got sick. I visit there a lot, I have family there, and when I’m there, I feel alive again. Here in this small town life stands still. I’m not living. My daughter can’t see this. She has to see how amazing life is when it’s being lived. She’s excited about the move but sadly has to leave her daddy behind (of course he’ll be visiting but he’ll be working out of town anyways and he, my dear friend, is urging me to move though it’s hard on him because he wants to see me happy). He is a true friend. Selfless. His love for our little girl is…well, there’s oceans of it. He’s that kind of daddy every child dreams about. So I’m packing up in Spring, but not before I finish the class I’ve also recently enrolled myself in–let’s face it, writing isn’t paying the bills (someday Amy, someday it will!), so I’m taking a CNA class to be a certified nursing assistant which will guarantee me a job where I’m moving to and tide me over here until the time comes. Not to toot my own cheap horn but I scored so high on the test (well the written part, imagine that) that I qualify for the nursing program. So if I like it enough I’ll just go on into nursing. Why not, right? Oh my God, Prince’s Kiss is playing right now. I know I’m feeling good cuz I have to stop typing everytime his “ki-iss” part comes up. Sing it Prince. Sorry anyway, ADHD, I’ve been a busy gal. I’ve changed to all female docs (no offense men) and I think they’re absolutely fabulous.

Me with my EX (and good friend)

What does that have to do with this? I don’t know health and stuff. But yeah, it’s scary to create change in your life. I cried many nights because I didn’t think I was well enough to hope for such things, and as time goes by, change rolls closer, and it scared me. Then, as I was laying there talking to my dead grandmother (she gets me through so much) I realized I was afraid of fear itself, not change. Because change is positive. You have to take charge of your life–every aspect of it. I was laying down to a comatose living, hiding, filling up my time with, well, good things for self-study…maybe I needed that time to really dig in and realize how big of a change I really needed. I am sad to move without my ex-fiance (ok, it’s complicated), but I’ll get over it. I’m resilient. There’s no damn spell-check on here. But when I feel afraid and inadequate there’s one thing that bolsters me and stiffens my spine–I’m not the “broken” (i’m sick of that word), divided girl I was. I KNOW WHO I AM NOW. It was all worth it in order to feel whole. What a gift. I’m not fractured. I’m not lost when I’m around other people (sometimes I feel like I’m glowing–sometimes). I don’t have pieces of a girl anymore but the whole of a woman. A grateful woman. A living, breathing woman whose about to grab her life by the balls and begin again. Oh I wish I were wearing a dress today, so I could spin. 🙂 Put yo’ party dress on girl! And no this is not a manic state I’m in, this is natural adrenaline, natural pleasure and excitement and a pinch of pride.

Ok, now Radiohead’s “High and Dry” is playing. Man, does that take me back. Back to my lost days, going on my nightly runs (I was an exercise freak, chasing away my thoughts literally). This song used to actually make that numb, dead girl cry. Break down in utter privacy. No one knew what my head was like. My sister would cry for me and she knew (we knew) without ever saying that I was heading somewhere dark. I was a raging alcoholic and pill popper, anything I could get my hands on. Yeah and I slept around. A lot. Nothing I’m proud of. Ahh, anyway, choking up here. Damn acoustic guitar. It doesn’t help that the next song starting is Rob Pattinson’s “Never Think”–I urge you all to listen to that beautiful song. This is a strange blog post. Not sure what I’m doing.

Are there others out there…you…that can relate? Why it’s so hard to start your life completely over. To get out of that sunken depression you’re so comfortable in being comatose and making yourself go with your gut and get up and get started. At first the fear is quite crippling. Because it means your better. And then it’s (I hate this word)–empowering. I’m actually excited about something and nervous and scared but mostly excited. At least I’m feeling something right? Oh this song—for those of you on multiple medications, you must checkout “keepsake” by State Radio. Just do it and trust me.


I guess I’ll wrap this one up. I’m glad to be back, hope you’re doing well. I’ll be checking out my favorite blogs this weekend to catch up (eh-hem Sheila and Brendan). Feel free to respond, I love it!

Amy Jo

4 thoughts on “Little Bird, Little Bird, Are You There?

  1. Amy,
    I wondered in here…but man I identify with what you are going through. I have always struggled with depression. It is difficult to let go of it and move forward. Change is good.

    I wish you the very best in your next stage of life.


  2. Welcome back, Amy. And welcome home to life beyond the windy rages. As a sobered alcoholic rock n roll wastrel ex-madman myself, I know how painful it is to let go of the big night music of those manic sweeps, and how hard the work which follows is (some call it recovery, the work of regaining lost self) is of puttting one step in front of the other, doing the right, sane, good thing which builds a real, good life. Some of the wild colors have to be exchanged for the treasure chest of small goodnesses to become available. And, in my book, what is beyond the crazy thirst for awful things is a real spiritual thirst which can be quenched by coming to participate in the divine life on earth — nothing spookily spiritual, just becoming one of the living and the loving. It’s so good to see you back here again. Keep up the good work, here and in the life.



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