I want to talk about therapy. As of 2018, I have collectively been in therapy for 13 years.
You’re welcome, Earth.
I have a history of severe depression, anxiety, and a delightful sprinkling of suicidal tendencies, a.k.a. MENTAL ILLNESS. (Insert dramatic music and crowds running away in black and white b-movie terror). When it first showed up so many years ago I was very blessed that I had friends in my life who insisted I wasn’t okay and pointed me in the direction of getting professional help. I send them little prayers every day.
I’m super pleased to announce that my newest album with Sit Kitty Sit, Tectonic, is finally here! Two years in the making, this album encompasses all the huge personal growth both Mike and I have gone through since 2014. I am so very proud of this album – everything. The lyrics and music and the production quality as well. I wrote a full blog on the Sit Kitty Sit website telling the story behind the album and all of the individual songs. We recorded it with Rick Spagnola at Dog Water Studios in Reno, NV. A fantastic, healing experience.
The first single, “Paper Doll”, off of Sit Kitty Sit’s upcoming album Tectonic came out on Tuesday, April 17th. I really really love the finished product:
That fucking word. I swear to Christ.
It haunts us with things left undone. With potential. An endless stream of what-ifs, could-haves, and maybes that meld into a theatrical chorus of “You are not good enough as you are”.
I’m not talking about positive self-improvement. I’m talking about those twisted voices whose only purpose is to torment. We all have them.
I have an annual tradition where toward the end of the year I deep clean my apartment and purge everything I don’t use. Year after year I slowly work myself toward being a minimalist.
If you come across an item you’re not sure about while you’re in the process of decluttering there is a three-question system you use:
- Do you actively use it?
- Do you need it?
- Do you love it?
I’ve been doing this for a while, so most things need two or more yeses to stay.
This year what struck me as I started cleaning out my ever-dwindling cabinets is that they are not full of “things” anymore. They are full of the people I used to be, or people I wish I was.