This Is A Crochet Blog

Now I need to remind myself that this is a crochet blog. I really want to start crocheting again but I feel a bit anxious about it. I say things that don't get pushed through.

I found some yarn in an apartment 16 years ago. That made me want to crochet. I taught myself how to crochet when I was a child. I made this pouch. I used the scrap yarn I found in the apartment. I got some beads and sequins and decorated it. I didn't use a pattern. I just worked in the round. I tried to use all the beads I got. I didn't plan anything. I didn't plan colors or patterns or shapes. I just wanted to start crocheting again.

Now I think about it, I took up crocheting because maybe it reminded me of when I was little. I was happy when I was little. I could do anything. I spent lots of time with my father. He was funny and he made a lot of things. He made wooden furniture and toys. He built ponds in the yard and had lots of fish. He made paintings and drawings. I probably got much from my father. I can't remember spending so much time with anyone else when I was small. My father took us shopping one day. I got a book of needlework. I was probably 9 years old. I learned crocheting through that book. I also got yarns and big knitting needles. But knitting was too hard for me. Crochet was easier. 

I also remember a bit now. I started crocheting at the apartment because I was unhappy in a very deep way. My husband criticized my work and my friends. He devalued nearly everything I did: my writing, my research, my artworks, my music, my poetry. It was horrible. I feel an intense pain in the center of my chest when I think about this.

So I started crocheting because it was something my husband couldn't get involved in. He tried in the beginning but it wasn't interesting enough. I found safety in crocheting. That's so sad when I think about it. I wasn't free. And I didn't know that I wasn't free. That went on for many years. That's probably why at some point my mental health deteriorated rapidly. When I encountered a very unskilled and badly trained psychologist in Bohol, I was emotionally vulnerable. I didn't know he was incompetent. He was very popular. He was member of lots of organizations. He taught at university and wrote a column for the newspaper. He put PhD after his name and "Dr" before his name. Then he put "Clinical Psychologist" after his PhD. So I thought he had a PhD in Clinical Psychology. It turned out that he didn't finish his PhD in Clinical Psychology. I asked him and he said he has a PhD in Management. I couldn't believe it. Management is not quite the same as Clinical Psychology. I wondered how he could stand representing himself like that. Now I think he suffers a lot. Imagine seeing patients in his clinic each day but not actually having the skills to help them. Mental health patients are vulnerable. I didn't know the harm that he was causing me until after nearly six months. This was when I started hurting myself.

Today I am still thinking of crocheting. I've had this yarn for a long time. This will be enough to make a couple small doilies. I like this color. Suddenly I am very hungry for color. A few days ago I tried crocheting but kept making mistakes. Maybe I will try again today. I feel better today than yesterday.

Here's a calculator I got several weeks ago. There were other colors to choose from. There was pink and grey. I chose this color. I love it. I use this calculator to know how much I am spending on various things each month and each year. I don't have a lot in my savings. I stopped earning a living through my art or writing many years ago. It was not possible to have a career because my husband constantly criticized and dismissed whatever I tried to do. It's been 17 years like that. I'm getting old. I need to look after myself better.

This is my new painting. I am using more colors, brighter colors. I miss color so much. This is my aunt's daughter. She has two children and two cats. She paid me to make a painting two years ago. I offered to accept commissions because I thought I was getting better. But I failed. That was when I was still seeing the very bad psychologist. But things are different now. I can start and finish a painting without so much emotional struggles. 

I made that crochet doily. It's natural linen and wood beads. It's very pretty. I want to make another one in brighter color. I feel better more often now. I have a very good therapist now. I will crochet today and write the pattern.


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