(no subject)

I saw my counselor again yesterday afternoon. It seemed to go pretty well, but I think I'm about to have a problem. The counseling center is run by the Catholic Diocese of St. Augustine (in conjunction with St. Vincent's hospital, also a Catholic organization).

I'm not Catholic.

I'm not even Christian.

I'm divorced, 30 years old with a child who will be fourteen in a few months, and living in sin with my boyfriend, whom I have no particular intent to marry. (Nothing on him, I just have no real intent to remarry. I won't say never, but I doubt I ever will.)

My belief about Deity is that there is a divine power, the source of all energy, creative and destructive (because sometimes destruction is necessary, just as death is necessary), transcendent of human form and definition, and encompassing both masculine and feminine energy in perfect balance, which manifests itself most clearly in the cycles of the natural world. This does not fit well into Christian beliefs, and it certainly does not fit well into Catholicism.

I don't really believe in an afterlife; I'm sort of torn between thinking that when you're dead, that's it, and believing in the possibility of reincarnation. Again, does not fit well into Christianity, and particularly not into the Roman Catholic subcategory. I call myself an eclectic pagan, simply because my beliefs don't really fit into any other category.

As usual, I don't fit the paradigm.

Anyway, in yesterday's session, my counselor asked me if I'd grown up with any religious instruction, and I did.

( Long-ass tangent on religion )

But somehow I think my non-conventional belief system ain't gonna fly with this Catholic counseling service. I didn't actually articulate all this to the counselor because we were out of time when the topic arose. But I expect I'm going to have to explain it eventually, and I'm a little worried about the consequences. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

In other news, I heard back from the doctor's office, and I have an appointment on Monday, May 1. The doctor is willing to see me at a reduced fee, so YAY for that. I sort of hope he'll want to change my meds or something. I am not sleeping well at all, and that never does anything good for my temperament or emotional state. I have a hard time falling asleep, and then I don't stay asleep. Bleah. I also have shaky hands sometimes, and I feel jumpy and anxious a lot of the time, and I still have my times, especially at night, when I really don't want to keep trying any of this.

Randomness...

I helped Jen henna her hair again yesterday. As before, I managed to get little bits of henna glop on my arm and tummy, and this time I also managed to split one of my gloves in the area where the thumb meets the rest of the hand, and you have that webbing-like bit of skin between your thumb and the main part of your hand. So now I have a few little orangey-brown spots on my tummy and right arm, and quite a big dark orangey-brown stain on my hand. Oh well. It will fade away in a few days; it's fading already.

I think the weather must be about to change, because my right wrist and my left knee have been screaming at me for the last two days. Ow.

And I've been sewing garb for Mini-me, who keeps saying she wants to start going to SCA stuff again, but every time I'm going to go to an event, she doesn't want to go because she'll miss church. But I had bought fabric for her, so I'm going to sew it up.

I've almost finished her "wench" stuff, which is much less risque than mine. Her chemises have an elastic neckline so that the neckline stays about halfway between her collarbone and her bust (unlike mine, which have drawstring necklines that I can adjust). All I have to do for those outfits is buy drawstrings for her overskirts (those have to have drawstrings because they're supposed to be open in front to show a bit of underskirt), buy a lacing for her bodice, buy grommets for her bodice and (hopefully get someone else to) set the grommets in her bodice.

I also bought some really deep blue fabric to make a tunic dress for her, because a friend of ours gave her this length of GORGEOUS gold-and-black trim. The tunic dress is pieced but not assembled yet, and I realized the other day that I messed up when I cut the sleeves; it's a fix-able mistake, but I'm still mildly annoyed with myself for having made it at all. Oh well.

Then I need to hem my kirtles. I was going to extend the hems. My kirtles only reach mid-calf (how immodest!) because I under-bought the fabric. (It's 100% linen, and NOT cheap.) I've given up on trying to extend the damn hems, though; I'm just going to hem them as they are and make some lightweight cotton underskirts, in case I ever wear a kirtle without the sideless surcoat over it.

I also need to sew at least one more sideless surcoat for myself, because the one I have is velveteen and far too damn hot for this part of the world during most of the year. I might buy some more linen for that; cotton probably won't hang right. I would like to sew some more "bloomers" for myself as well, because my old ones have given up the ghost.

After that, I'd like to sew some mundane things for myself, maybe some loose cotton or linen trousers for summer time. And I bought a tunic-style top around my birthday that I'd like to try to make a few copies of, in better colors and not-synthetic fabric (probably cotton).

The problem is, I sew like a mad thing for a few weeks and then I get to where I can't abide the sight of the sewing machine or my sewing box and I neglect my sewing for months on end. I never really get to the point of being truly good at sewing; I've been stuck at merely competent since about age 12.

It also annoys me that I'm a leadfoot with the machine pedal. (I'm not a leadfoot when I drive, though.) I remember when I was younger and my mom sewed a lot, she could make the sewing machine make this nice even humming sound. When I sew, it goes slow-fast-sometimeswaytoofast-slow-stop (to remove pins) and then starts over. I've even taken to operating the pedal only with my toes rather than the whole foot, but I can't make the machine make the comforting noise that Mom's sewing used to make.