Monday Memoir, April 14, 1967

 April 14, 1967 

Another rather jumbled week when I did not write very much. There were a few notes for Friday the 14th added the next Monday morning so I will cover them first and then go back through the week from April 11-13.  Maybe I was slightly clairvoyant and had a dim vision how things were not going to go well on several fronts for awhile. Actually most of 1967 from April on was a disrupted, confused and traumatic period. Somehow I survived but it was not always easy. By the time 1968 arrived, many things had been resolved, at least in a final if not totally satisfactory manner. Like my sudden change in early September of 1966, life abruptly hit a fork or two and I had  no option but to take the path fate or the Powers-That-Be sent me to follow. 

14 April, 1967

The Boss was here when I got out of history. at 2:00. We went. Stopped by Mrs.Edwards' on athe way to Clarkdale and I met the notorious Lisa (for what it's worth.) And we went on home. The extra gang was there but Charlie Mike said they are leaving Saturday. Got ready for a busy weekend.  I was supposedly updated on the latest developments but did it make any difference? Not really. It gets more scrambled and convoluted every day-week-month. Holy cow! I think I am better off not knowing!!

S'plains: I really have no memory of who Mrs Edwards was nor Lisa. And nothing in my notes sheds a bit of light. They were probably somehow involved in the ongoing family turmoil, legal problems and more. I would say definitely not significant now!

So  much for that, so zip back to the prior weekend, April 8 and 9. It was apparently not very inspiring as I stayed in Flag and fretted. I mentioned working on that big term paper, washing and ironing, unpacking all my pretty cotton dresses to wear since spring was bound to arrive shortly. I was wishing I had brought my phonograph back. I wanted to play Duane Eddy and Waylon Jennings,  being in the mood for some good ole country "drink and cry" kind of  music.  And loud. Saturday I went uptown to the movie alone and saw "The Dark at The Top of the Stairs." It was odd and somewhat haunting.  

Then that morphed into Monday, April 10.  "Blue Monday" I said."I feel sicker than two dogs today. It is 28 days  so I am late once again." My ordinary cycle was 21-24,  but at  the time I did not know worsening endometriosis and  irregular cycles were results of my bout with the mumps in October 1964. Sterility was involved too.  I never used birth control and it never became a problem. I fretted over not hearing from Dusty but did not know then of the problems he was having at work. Since his health issues the previous summer, some of the higher-ups were working to get him fired before he could reach the point of a medical retirement. They were sly and underhanded about it. Unfortunately,  they soon had their chance.

I was actually looking forward to another weekend down in the valley, especially if I could get in a lot of riding. I had spent a total of about fifteen hours writing and fitting in the footnotes etc.on my big term paper.  I think this was the one I did on Gifford Pinchot and the Conservation Movement but not sure. I made most of my term papers into major projects and usually my profs appreciated and recognized my efforts. Lots of A's or 1's were awarded. But then,  writing was always my thing and research was almost 'fun.'

I thought of trying to "be different" like more outgoing and even flirty until my birthday for a trial but realized I could not easily change my nature. Somehow faking it would not work.  Then I said "Oh, I give up. I don't have a plan, a dream. That's why I feel so lost.  You have to have something to work for. I am just drifting in a sea of self-pity and self-hatred which is slow poison, it eats away at me. I don't trust anybody enough o talk to or with." In retrospect, I see borderline clinical depression and find its roots in the difficult past four years and some from earlier, very much a PTSD situatioin..  Bit by bit, I overcame it with occasional back-slide. It took a number of years. Maybe I never wholly did as it still pops up at times..

Not sure about pictures. I may find something that fits --or not. Well this is not my photo but very evocative and one I found and kept some time ago.  I did not have this image in 1967 of course but it would have spoken to or for me. I've called it (her?) The Goddess of Depression. I may have paid homage to Her much too long. Call up a wind to blow those clouds and rain away. I will instead honor Brigid or Epona! My senior picture did not look so dark but that was before the four hard years.