I made it! - My good friend Bob Ross

I've been attempting to use my time more wisely. Its... not going well. That's no surprise really, I've never gotten particularly high marks for that, but where my current mental health is concerned, sitting  on my couch after getting home to scroll though social media until I forget what day it is and/or "rest my eyes" is probably not a good choice of post-work activity.

Not that I'm necessarily setting out to do anything particularly important per se, but that doesn't matter. I just need to do something that won't fill me with regret later. I wish "consistently doing something you know you'll regret, then mentally beating yourself up later, regretting your regret of lost time" was a marketable skill because then I'd have a new freaking job already because I am a PRO.

Since the holidays are quickly approaching, this invariably means I'm taking on some sort of craft project(s) as gifts because what's Christmas without feeling overwhelmed? With this in mind I decided to do something to get me into the groove of making again, specifically deciding to sew a pin, because that's normal. As for what to sew on a pin, Bob Ross was an obvious choice. Obviously. 

So yeah, this is the final result:

Initially, it didn't look like that but I always have to go though a "I hate it!" phase when I'm making something, and with something this small, that seems to happen after I've already freaking finished it. This is what it looked like the first time I was "finished."

When you're drawing a pattern (seen bellow, sort of), it can seem all good on paper but once you're finished you realize, say, that a certain paintbrush (that's what that is, a paintbrush. You knew that, right? That definitely looks like a paintbrush...right?) was too close to a certain painter. It left things a little... off balance I thought. So of course I took it apart. 

[After I wrote that last paragraph I inspected my pictures more carefully and realized this picture was clearly taken before I finished it the FIRST time because it hasn't been cut out yet. Maybe you didn't notice this so maybe I shouldn't have said anything but either way, lets all pretend this makes sense.]

I decided to add some "paint droplets" (okay?!) to even things out because I didn't feel like redoing it all together. I've made a few of these pins now and they're pretty fun. Good if you're in a funk because you can get that emotional reward having totally completed a physical thing in a pretty short time span. Plus, then you can be like me and be late for work sometimes (all the time) because you're changing out the pins on your jacket.

It's a win-win!

I went to Japan that one time

I went to Lowe's the other day to get some supplies to try and save my snake plant (another story for another day, get pumped for that) and I wore a pin I got in Japan when I went this past May. The cashier asked me about it, probably because it said "Kurobe Kyokoku" (Kurobe Gorge) and I guess she- shockingly, I know -didn't speak Japanese. So, in very non-Ashley fashion, I decided to engage in small talk with a stranger a little more than usual and told her briefly about my trip and what the Kurobe Gorge was.

A normal response to this from a stranger in this situation would probably be "oh that's nice," maybe ask for very basic details, I dunno. This lady though, decided to tell me about the son of a WWII veteran that came through her line that day that "wouldn't have anything to do with Japan."

Umm. Ok.

I spent the car ride home wondering if the cashier really had that customer come through her line (highly unlikely- how would that come up in conversation?!) or if this was her way of voicing her disapproval of my vacation choices. Ridiculously too, might I add. First of all, they are currently our allies. Secondly, I'm certainly aware of what went down in WWII and know that Japan was not aligned with the US then of course, but about 90% of Toyama, the prefecture that Kurobe Gorge is in, was totaled in WWII so war sucks for EVERYone, ok? And besides that, it pissed me off because I'm actually super proud of the fact that I went to Japan.

Taking that trip was something I never thought I'd get a chance to do/be able to afford to do and I am so thrilled that it actually, somehow, happened. The Kurobe Gorge portion of my trip was especially fantastic and easily one of my favorite memories so I'm going to share it with you now because fuck that Lowe's cashier.

This is the town at the base of the cog railway

Merriam-Webster defines a cog railway as "a steep mountain railroad that has a rail with cogs engaged by a cogwheel on the locomotive to ensure traction." So, basically, the Kurobe cog railway is a steep-ass railway we took up to a mountain to check out the deep gash the Kurobe river had carved out of this beautiful landscape in Toyama. 

It was a longish trip up but we didn't mind. It was a beautiful clear day, perfect for what we set out to do which was, apparently, creep up a mountain on a weird small and open train then hike down along the river. Though it wasn't a quick train, we didn't get bored, that's for sure. I grew up in the gorgeous mountains of NC but I was dazzled at the sights all the same.

There's a couple paths to take along the river but unfortunately the one over the bridge was closed. It didn't matter because we had a great stroll along the river regardless. It was an amazing hike and though I am 100% a complainer on hikes due to me being physically out of shape and also being unable to cope with being uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form, even I was too in awe to gripe. 

We ended our walk by having lunch at a small, haphazardly placed/set up restaurant on the side of the river near some hot springs. I loved the food in Japan even more than I thought I would and the wild fiddlehead soba I had then did not disappoint.

Once we were sufficiently tired and fed, we marveled at the sights some more then took the train back down the mountain. Such an amazing day. If only that cashier new how much she was missing by holding onto some strange, old, needless prejudices...

[All pictures in this post are mine. Sorry about the photo dump but trust me, I showed restraint. So many wonderful sights to see on that trip!]

Get a move on: take a walk, take a walk, take a walk...

It really pisses me off how good exercise is for you. There is no other mental health improvement technique that gets shoved down your throat I like less than exercise but there's few (non-medication related) ones that work better. 

What the hell, man.

I'm mostly talking about conscious, regular exercise here, not the times when you do random fun things that just so happen to require physical activity, like going on a chill hike or bike ride. Nothing makes me more feel more like a petulant teenager than someone telling me exercising would help me tremendously; even though I logically know they are 100% correct, emotionally I want to yell "NO!" and go sulk somewhere, maybe even listen to My Chemical Romance (do the youth still do this? I hope so).

I've been making a concerted effort to move passed that lately because not only would it help with my near constant feelings of tiredness/sluggishness and apathy, but I turned 30 recently and find my body reminding me that it's all downhill from here pretty frequently (I have to wear compression knee braces when I do anything too strenuous for my sad weak old lady knees now for chrissakes). Not only do I NOT want to spend the rest of my life feeling depressed, I don't want to start taking all sorts of high blood pressure and high cholesterol meds either (and that's best-case scenario). 

Of course though, there's the issue of motivation. Funnily enough, having a good quality of life overall isn't enough to get me off my ass so whenever I do, I'm inordinately proud of myself. Yesterday after work, I decided to walk to a nearby coffee shop for, unsurprisingly, some coffee. I had intended to come back afterward making it about a 20 minute walk max, but instead I stayed out for about an hour.

Look at me go! I even provided photographic evidence!

An obligatory shot of me holding my coffee cup in front of a scenic backdrop. 

It's not super unusual for me to take a good long walk once I get started, even if that's not what I specifically set out to do. It's the whole getting started thing that really trips me up. Good coffee (or any coffee, who am I kidding) is a solid motivator to get out the door, but as far as staying out goes, it being fall in New England doesn't hurt...

Picturesque as hell, amiright? We have tons of rail trails around us which, according to Wikipedia, are defined as: the conversion of a disused railway track into a multi-use path, typically for walking, cycling and sometimes horse riding and snowmobiling. The characteristics of abandoned railways—flat, long, frequently running through historical areas—are appealing for various developments. We do a lot of biking on these but it's a good place to put on some music and just lose track of time while you're walking.

Speaking of music, I have a couple songs from my playlist for you so you have something else to look at besides my shitty cell phone pictures. The first one, Achey Bones by The Happy Fits, is a good one for when you're just starting out and you're feeling good about walking but want something to really motivate you and get you going. The urge do dance to this is pretty overwhelming so feel free to be that person when you're out on the trail. I wouldn't judge.

This second one, Call Me (On the Phone) by Dante Elephante, is good for near the end of your walk when you're cooling down a bit but still want something with a good walking beat to get you through to the finish line.



I took so long that I had to hurry home at the end- I didn't want to be stuck on the trail in the dark because that's how you get MURDERED and I watch too much Forensic Files (ps- my dream has come true. It's coming back!) so I definitely got the hell outta there. I tried to keep up a brisk pace throughout anyway, to make it more of a workout. I'm in no kinda shape to run (plus, I had a beverage man!), so that was as good as it was gonna get.

Afterward, my fiancé and I got burgers and beer for dinner to celebrate it being Friday so overall, my body still hates me but I'm feeling pretty good about things in general.
So there's that.


[In case you were curious, my post title comes from the song Take a Walk by Passion Pit]

Definitely probably doing this

I've started writing this tons of times and it's getting a little ridiculous. I'm doing the thing I always do with any new endeavor, which is overthink it to the point where I put myself under an immense amount of completely unnecessary pressure, and as anyone who's ever interviewed me for a job knows, I do not operate well under that kind of pressure.

But I'm doing it. Look, words! I'm typing! I'm for sure definitely probably posting this soon!

My main problem, or the reason I get so stressed out about starting things- other than the usual suspects that haunt me at any given time on any given day which are a low-grade depression, not-so-low-grade anxiety, and near crippling indecision- is that I can never do so without building up some grand eventuality for it in my head. Then, I put too much pressure on the start of it, like I have to have it all figured out right out of the gate, like it has to be perfect from day one, and super cool, and everyone is going to read it, and they all have to like it, and omg...

But Jesus Christ Ashley, this is just a fucking blog.

(That's me by the by, I'm Ashley)

So to hell with all that. What it comes down to is this: I'm in a bit of a stuck place in life at the moment and I'm struggling to figure out how to effectively move forward and somehow I came to the conclusion that perhaps a blog would help. Modern times are WILD man, amiright??

One of the main culprits of my stuck feeling I've decided, is my above mentioned low-grade depression. I call it low-grade because I'm still a functioning member of society, it's not crippling me so much that I don't basically take care of myself and all the adult things I need to do on any given day. What it's done is suck out my excitement, and that really makes it difficult to figure out what I want to do with my life moving forward. If nothing excites me, nothing piques my interest, nothing feels worth doing. So, my free time is spent sitting watching Murder, She Wrote. Again.

Yeah. AGAIN.

I used to be defined by my excitement. I was never not making and doing something. You could ask me what project I was working on then and I'd always have something to excitedly tell you about. You could ask me about whatever show I was watching and 15 minutes later you'd be glassy-eyed, trying to take in an abundance of information about Firefly or something. I had interests. I had hobbies that wonderfully consumed me.

Even my (dare I call it) fashion has suffered (or maybe not, depending on who you ask I guess). I thought for a while that me scanning TJ Maxx's clearance racks for oversized gray sweaters all the time was simply a sign that I'd grown up, evolved. No more shirts covered in hot pink cats, I'm an Adult now.
But I recently went through my closet to get rid of some clothes and found I couldn't get rid of the hot pink cat shirt, even though I hadn't worn it in ages. I realized I hadn't stopped liking all those weird things, I had just given up, just surrendered myself to the sea of black leggings and grayness.
That goes for my hobbies too. While I do still work on things from time to time, I've given up for the most part. I'm just doing things out of some strange sense of duty and it's been kind of a drag so I'm more than ready to fix that.

Thus, we come to the point of all this.

I work in the mental health field so I can attest to the fact that "fake it until you make it" is potentially a super effective treatment for what I've got going on* so I thought it'd be worth a try to write a blog to help pump up my excitement for things again. My idea is to post about things that I like or do so not only do I have a record to look back on of all the stuff I've tried and enjoyed (always a good reminder), but I'll continue (hopefully) to keep that excitement going by talking about it.

That was a lot of words just to say I'm writing the same sort of blog as everyone else but I'm doing it because I'm bummed a lot. Sorry.

My hope is that it gets easier and easier and at least some of that all-consuming excitement comes back. The more I talk about things I like, the more I focus on the things I like, the more excited I get about the things I like. Maybe.

I guess we'll see right?

*Sometimes it definitely isn't though, everyone's different. If the weight of your depression or anxiety is too crushing for you to get to that point or to function in a healthy manner, please, for the love of everything, get some help. Therapy, medication, even just finding a friend to talk to to start. It's worth it. YOU are worth it. Life's hard man, ain't no shame in getting the help you need.