You know how crochet is supposed to soothe and calm anxiety and relax you? It’s been proven, and I can attest to feeling the warm fuzzy crochet effect. That is until the last couple of weeks. A couple of things happened at the same time culminating in an almighty storm cloud floating in over my head.
I saw a sweet crochet pattern to make a little matching cat, bear and bunny. Shine had been asking me to make her a toy for a couple of weeks and when I saw the pattern used a cotton yarn I’d just seen on sale I hopped to it and ordered the goodies. The same week I started a new pill. Me and birth control pills have not been friends in the past but my GP assured me that this one might be different. You can see where this is going, I’m sure. We are also still trying to buy ourselves a little nest to call home. It’s been months and months (and months) of stress, wasted money and disappointment.
I think the pill was probably the thing that triggered the slide. The yarn arrived and I got stuck in. The pattern wasn’t difficult but rather than being in the round, amigurumi style, the cat’s body was made in flat pieces and stitched together at the end. Already when I read this I felt a little nervous. Me and hand sewing. Hmmm. Anyway, the cotton split and split and split. It was really hard on my hands to get it tight enough that the stuffing wouldn’t show through. So tough that I could only do a few rows at a time before my hand ached and the pain was enough to make me put it down, meaning I was getting nowhere fast either. I was not enjoying the process or the results one little bit.
Two weeks into taking the pill I started to question whether my feelings that everything was hopeless and my hideous snappy snap mood could be attributed to the little tablet. I’d expected headaches and migraines, and got them, but didn’t expect such a sudden mood change.
The stress of feeling like we’d never have a home to call our own mixed with the frustration of a pattern and yarn that were not doing their job meant a crazy low consumed me. I pushed on for another week hoping it would pass. Maybe it was all in my head? Maybe I’d get used to the yarn? Maybe we would find a home? I didn’t believe myself though.
Last weekend was the final straw. I spent Sunday curled up in a ball on the couch feeling totally blah. It was time to try and change the things I could. I ditched the pill and frogged the cat. The satisfaction I thought I’d get from making the toy actually came from undoing the toy. Unravelling the yarn was like breathing out slowly and letting the dark mood curl away in the process.
Monday came and I ushered in the change. No pill and within a day I already felt myself able to smile more. I didn’t grind my teeth yesterday over the barista taking a millisecond too long to make my coffee. It’s safe to say I’m a LOT nicer to live with.
We’ve found a home that I could really see us living in. I’m incapable of not getting emotionally invested in a house purchase. I’m a Cancerian, my shell is what protects me and keeps me living. We might not get this home of course but while we’re trying I can’t help but do what I do well. Throw myself in and imagine the keys to that blue door in my hand. Picture myself sitting in that sunny lounge, under a blue sky, making things. Making a home.
So I’m making a garland to hang in the window of the home we will have one day. It’s circles. Soothing circles. In a silky yarn that is satisfyingly slipping through my fingers with haste. Let’s hope the keys slip into my hand as easily. Keep your fingers crossed for me folks.