I’m writing this now bc I don’t ever want to go a week without blogging even if -like now- I’m fighting off a depression that makes me feel more than slightly worthless. You can usually tell when I’m in a depression because I disappear…from the internet…from friends and family…from myself. I kept waiting this week for this malaise to fall away so that my brain fog could dissipate and I could write about all the things I want and need to but it hasn’t happened yet. Instead, I work so very slowly on things that don’t take as much brain power.
I opened a moving box to unpack on the couch (yes, I moved over a year ago and am still unpacking) and inside I found a kaleidoscope a friend made me decades ago out of wild flowers and stained glass. Somehow it had gotten crushed, one of the spinning glass lenses shattered into pieces.
I threw away the loose shards and considered tossing the whole thing but then I looked through it and found that I could still move the broken glass disc a little. Not as smoothly, certainly, but still it worked. And the shattered spiderwebbed glass around the dried wildflowers gave it an even more complex kaleidoscope. It wasn’t what it was made for, it didn’t work like it should, and from the outside it looked irrevocably shattered, but somehow -looking through the light- the brokenness gave it a perspective I’d never have seen before.
So I’m keeping it on a high shelf. Broken, fragile, perhaps a little bit dangerous…but still beautiful and unique with the right kind of eyes that are willing to look.
If I didn’t have this brain fog this post would be better. Or at least different. But perhaps you have the same curious eyes or foggy mind and can read what my broken head is trying and failing to say eloquently. And if so, I hope it reminds you that you will get through this, that your struggle makes you unique, and that even when you are struggling you are still beautiful.
Thanks for saying the thing I needed most to hear today.
We always read your heart. With/without brain fog. ❤️
Even when we are broken we still have value.
I needed this reminder right now, you are a light to so many of us who are struggling, even as you are struggling with the darkness.
Thank you.
You are perfect just as you are. Thank you for being you and sharing with us. I love listening to your books. Your voice calms me and makes me laugh♥️
You are always beautiful… especially since that kaleidoscope wasn’t the kind that leaves charcoal rings on your eyes because then you’d be a beautiful raccoon.
I, too, am a little broken at the moment. Thank you for the reminder that I am nevertheless still beautiful and unique. (P.S.: I still have unopened boxes from my move 5 years ago so…I think you’re actually doing great!)
Your post is lovely. Your brain is telling you lies. There’s no failing here, and you speak with eloquence. You are not even a little bit worthless. I look forward to every post you make. You are important, you are necessary and you are worthwhile. You are a gift. Even though we have never met, I love you.
I can’t imagine words that you could have written any more eloquently or beautiful.
I truly admire your writing voice. You say you can’t ,yet you do it. The story about the kaleidoscope is wonderful. The way you look at things( and life) is helping so many just to take a moment and breathe and then keep going .
I applaud and thank you! ❤️👏
Thank you for making the effort to reach out…it was an interesting vignette! Hang in there.
Broken but still beautiful… 🥰
I have been where you are, many times. I know that you are much braver than me and have amazing tools to help you through this. I know you will get to the other side and write about this time as just a memory. So for now wrap yourself in soft things, eat some delicious foods, snuggle you kitty, light some lovely smelling candles and take care of our queen. We love you.
Perfect timing, my friend. Thank you.
I love you 💕
You speak to me, for me.
You are brave and true.
This is why we love you so much. Your insights on the shattered kaleidoscope made me cry and laugh simultaneously at how well that explains life. You are a Warrior Woman and a Champion at overcoming, side-stepping, metamorphosizing (is that a real word?) and helping us all get through the crap of everyday living. Heal well and quickly!
Thinking of you. You mean so much to all of us. You will feel better soon. Please don’t lose hope
Dear Jenny. Depression lies. The truth is you make all our lives kinder, funnier and your entire community will agree. I just had to reorder most of your books because I loan( give) them away to friends in need. You are a healer a wonderful human
You somewhere wrote my thoughts today and I needed to hear them out loud!
I started following your blog back in 2014 or 15. Lost track for awhile but am so glad to have found you again! My thoughts are that you are a unique one of a kind person in the best possible ways. Thank you for being you and sharing with us.
This was a wonderful post from a wonderful person—I’m sorry you have to deal with this and hope the depression lies STFU soon
Not to just throw K-Pop Demon Hunters in here, but:
I broke into a million pieces, and I can’t go back
But now I’m seeing all the beauty in the broken glass
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
Why did I cover up the colors stuck inside my head?
I should’ve let the jagged edges meet the light instead
This post was great just as it is.
That kaleidoscope sounds like a miniature model of you; yes it is broken and now what it used to be but it still can provide colorful patterns to stimulate our thinking.
Message received. I’m in that place and will keep going. Thank you.
So very timely! Thank you.
Thanks, Jenny. I too am so depressed. Not in a brain fog, just stuck and can’t move forward. I know all the things. I just can’t right now.
Totally relatable this week as the world just shattered and grief is seeping in from all sides.
Precious lady. You are heard. The kaleidoscope story was so affirming. You are solid, even in your fog. Stay collected. Do what you need to do. And know that you are being appreciated and prayed for.
This story is a perfect description of how I see you (and the rest of us) Broken, fragile, a little bit dangerous but beautiful and unique..And with the best sense of humor. Right now your brain acting like an asshole. But I’ll have you know when my brain tells that I can’t be successful because I have depression, so don’t even try. I remember that You have depression and still run a business and you are bad ass writer who has people like Brene Brown also think you’re bad ass, then it is possible. Depression sucks but it doesn’t mean we can’t do everything every else does. We just have to be more clever to figure out how to detect the lies our brain tells us.
Ps I’m pretty sure that even Opra mispronounced Maya Angelou’s when she introduced her on her show. Just sayin
When I saw the headline in email I thought, please, PLEASE NOT Purrcy….whew!
(That would be more than a little broken, I think.)
We sold our city apartment in 1999, and left tons of stuff from that apartment in cardboard boxes on the basement floor of our new house – mistake! Then Hurricane Sandy hit decades later, and we had 3 1/2 feet of water in the basement which was below sea level (the floor has since been raised and we think the problem is fixed.) All those soaked boxes of things had to get dumped. Mostly old videotapes of movies taped off the Late Show by my husband’s former partner, even before I arrived on the scene – but that forced us to to a major cleanup of the basement…well, forced ME…my husband didn’t help much!!! So, we learned to store everything on high shelves now. And we have a couple things that we bought home from our parents’ houses after they passed away…a few of the platters, nice bowls and glass objects have chips or scratches…but we keep them and think they are more beautiful, and even more precious, a little broken.
Love you, Jenny!
It’s day job things that are taking everything out of me lately. Stuck in a toxic work environment that I’ve been tying to get out of for over ten years. So close recently. I know ilk weather it through, but it is a battle.
You are heard, seen and loved.
It’s like the Jewish concept of Tikkun Olam – of the world being broken and we all together can bring it back together again, even if it’s not perfect and light shines through. None of us are perfect, and sometimes it may seem forever darkened, but if we take our time and lean a bit on those who love us, we can put ourselves back together again. Even with parts missing where the light shines through. Xo
Thank you, Jenny. My husband and I moved to Vancouver Washington last month so that we could live closer, but not TOO close 😉 to our daughter, son-in-law, and granddog who live in Portland. Currently my depression/anxiety/overwhelm has me frozen, crying, bitching, cussing, praying, and fluctuating between “UNPACK ALL THE THINGS RIGHT NOW!! 🤯 to “I will be in my bed with the covers over my head until further notice.” This is because I want to pretend that I am a “battery-operated doll without her batteries” right now. I want to observe life AROUND me while I am just “sitting on the shelf” where no one or no thing is demanding any attention from me.” 😞 Your honesty, vulnerability, encouragement, and sense of humor are JUST EXACTLY what I need. Thank you for being YOU! ♥️
Thanks for sending so much light out into the world even when you’re in the darkness. You are loved!!!
I’m so glad you said unique instead of stronger. I hate when people say that.
I assume you’re familiar with Akhilandeshvari (the goddess of never not broken) and imagining myself riding on an alligator somehow always helps. Hugs. https://anandasoul.com/blogs/blog/goddess-akhilanda-a-goddess-that-tells-us-we-are-never-not-broken
Thanks for sharing your reality. I remain in awe of your commitment to leading a full well read life filled with drawings and love.
Dear, I am feeling the same way. I think the moon is still in retrograde, at least thats what I’m blaming this foggy mush brain I am battling. I have been on a roller-coaster of emotions since my father passed away. I had the pleasure of visiting with all the friends he made in Virginia. My son and I took the trip from Pennsylvania. It warms my heart knowing how many people loved and cared for him.
I took your book with me and I read the chapters that helped me every night in the hotel room before I fell asleep. Words can’t express enough how much you mean to me. I love you hon, and take care of yourself.
What a beautiful post, Jenny. Big hugs!
About 6 months ago, I realized that you are the same Jenny that I chatted with 100 years ago on twitter – before your first book – back when twitter was fun. The revelation was completely stupid as I’ve followed you in multiple ways since then, I just never made the connection. You sharing your ups and downs make me feel less alone in my individuality, especially when feeling different, shattered, and broken. I moved into my house 31 years ago, and I’m certain there are still packed boxes in the attic. Big hugs to you.
This hit me directly today, as I am feeling listless and not worth much. You have such an incredible skill of describing beauty in everyday objects like broken kaleidoscopes. This post moved me deeply and I wanted to thank you for it. I hope we all shake off our broken shards, or make them into something unique and beautiful.
Jenny –
You won’t know how much I needed to read this post today, but thank you for making it. I really appreciate it and appreciate *you*! Thank you for being here and making the effort and doing the difficult things and keeping the broken things in life and finding the beauty in them.
It is the little things that keeps us going.
Thank you.
*hugs*
Lilliane
I understand broken. I think it is beautiful you can still find beauty in something you were given that doesn’t work the way it was made to work but it’s still lovely.
Leonard Cohen wrote there is a crack a crack in everything that’s how the light gets in my favorite quote
We are all more than a little broken, Jenny! You are beautiful just as you are and you will get thru this just like you have every time before. 😘 The depression has never defeated you before, and it will not this time either!
Thank you for writing and trying to help others even when you are having a rough time.
Speaking on behalf of your millions of fans, we love you! You will get through this!
I got what you were saying, and you are beautiful too! You help so many people just by being alive, depression sucks and don’t believe it. I love you so much. Thank you for all that you do, I’m sorry I can’t find the right words to help you out. You are not alone. Take some time for yourself and tell your brain to fu*k off. There’s a Twenty One Pilots lyric from one of their songs “holding on to you” that goes, “Put a noose around your mind, loose enough to breathe fine ,and tie it to a tree, tell it, “you belong to me This ain’t a noose, this is a leash, And I have news for you, you must obey me” That helps me out. I hope it can help you too. 🙂 Big hugs
Some days the goal is to just … breathe. Its enough. It will pass. Your just climbing the hill, the view with the light and the beauty and clarity will be there. Its waiting for you. Your just climbing right now and it takes work and concentration. All the juju your way, Jenny, you wonderful beautiful human.❤️❤️❤️❤️
Your messages always give me hope. I need to hang on to it with both hands sometimes….but it is still there when I stop to look.
Love the metaphor. I’m feeling my brokenness more than usual right now, too. I invited my elderly parents to live in my home two years ago. The close daily proximity has unearthed deep trauma that physical distance had allowed to rest. Fun times, for sure. I am grateful to be able to understand myself more fully, while recognizing the privilege of being able to access supportive therapy. Nonetheless, pain is pain, and we get through it by taking baby steps. Your post was affirming for me ❤️Keep on going, “Bloggess”, no step in the right direction is too small or too slow.
I hope you take your own words to heart: “even when you are struggling you are still beautiful.”
Thanks for writing this and for the beautiful metaphor. We’re all broken in some way, after all, and trying to still make ourselves useful. What a lovely reminder of the worth of the effort.
One of the reasons I love collecting sea.glass is because even though it has been broken and tossed around, abraided by sand, rocks and the salt of the ocean it’s still beautiful and a wonderful treasure to find. I try to tell myself that when I am feeling broken and beaten down that I am still beautiful and can bring beauty to the world. Hugs
Amen. This too shall pass. FWIW, a few years ago when I had a life threatening medical event I made a note to myself in my notes app that said “I am so happy to be alive” because I knew I would likely need the reminder in the future, because depression is a liar.
Thank you for sharing. I needed your wisdom and encouragement. I am also struggling with myself to rise from ashes of self doubt and self disappointment. My core says can do this my inner self feels lost. I will look for the beauty and memories of myself a long time ago. I know she is there ,I hope to find her.
Love you Jenny
All I want to say today isTHANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS POST ! I needed it and I get it and you helped me AGAIN.
Years ago I visited a kaleidoscope workshop in St. Andrews, Scotland. This wasn’t a tour but something I stumbled across on a Sunday morning ramble in the town. I knocked, and the artist let me in to watch. Here’s what I learned:
• The kaleidoscope was invented in St. Andrews by a Scots mathematician.
• The stationary, mirrored pyramid fitted inside the rotatable tube reflects the
moving pieces of colored glass.
• This produces innumerable patterns and works with perpetual beauty.
I went away with a metaphor for life – stability (the mirrored pyramid), surrounded by change (the movable circular tube).
Hold fast, Jenny. Your kaleidoscope still works.
Broken, still beautiful, still wonderful and mesmerizing. Life changes us all, breaks us a little bit, but we heal, and we come out of it just a bit different. Broken, but still beautiful.
We moved over a year ago and still have an unpacked boxes either, though we find fewer bits of poetic Whimsy and more “oh that’s where my electric toothbrush went!”
Love you. Just as you are.
I think this is your best post ever. I see what you’re saying and I literally feel like your kaleidoscope. Broken, but still able to put on a good show to make others around me feel ok. Thank you for always sharing your struggle. It makes me feel less alone
Ugh…. and a hug!!!
<3
I also live with intractable depression – sending you sympathy and hugs.
This, and some of what you wrote in ‘Broken (in the best possible way)’, remind me of an epiphany I had decades ago on a vacation in Monterey, CA. We were wandering around and went into an art gallery with some sculptures that were more interesting the closer I got. They were put together out of what seemed to be random bits of broken junk, the kind of thing a person might see in any vacant lot or gutter or dumpster. There was a sign explaining that this was ‘found object art.’ The artist worked only with broken and discarded things that he found in places like those lots and gutters and dumpsters – he brought out beauty that I wouldn’t have seen in them in the places where he found them. It explained that he had a rule that he never broke anything in order to use it – he only worked with stuff that the world had already broken.
I’m not religious – nothing against those who are genuinely so, it just doesn’t work for me – but I’m in recovery and have a higher power I’ve seen enough evidence to be sure is there, although I don’t pretend to understand it. The light bulb that went on over my head that day was the realization that my higher power is a found object artist.
I’m old and there’s a hell of a lot of wreckage in my life, a lot of it self-generated, some donated by others. A lot of that wreckage has sharp jagged edges that have bled me and, alas, sometimes bled those close to me. But I’ve been able to arrange some, and some have arranged themselves, into bits of beauty I could never have come up with if I’d only had bright shiny new stuff to work with. Some of that beauty has even helped other people.
You are one hell of a found object artist. Thanks for sharing your work with us.
Thank you for this. I’m sitting at a cafe with your book which is helping me get through the hardest time of my life. Sending love to you ❤️
Hugs! I hear you. 🤗
You’re not alone. Right now I’m dealing with my first bout of depression in a long time together with horrible anxiety. My psychiatrist has recommended intravenous Ketimime treatments, and I think I’m about through all the legal hoops to start it soon. I’ve been clinging to the hope that it will hope since it’s helped you. Please know that you being so open about what you go through and what you do to keep going really makes a world of difference to others. It really has for me during this dark time.
Thank you, Jenny, for a post I didn’t realize I needed to read.
Ok, this made me cry. For the third time today and 250millionth time since I slid down the rabbit hole this time. I am no longer a young woman, and I don’t know how many more times I will have to do this, or have the strength to try. But I am trying to crawl out of it, and it’s been a very long hard climb. Just when I think I am nearly on top of things, something seems to send me sliding down again.
You are not alone. I am sending hugs
You have a beautiful uplifting way with words. I love your kaleidoscope story. Thank you for sharing.
You are such a gift to all of us who struggle to keep our heads above water. Thank you.
❤️❤️❤️ We are all still beautiful.
I get this.
All of this.
I got some tentatively bad news, Thursday, and I have wanted to just close all the drapes, turn off the lights, and crawl into my bed and rot.
But, commitments need to be met, however slowly.
We persevere.
Remember, we are The Blue Canary in the Light Switch, Who Watches Over You.
Sometimes all our spoons are in the dishwasher and bc we don’t have any spoons left we can’t even get them out of the dishwasher (see Spoon theory). And it feels like we will never be able to unload the dishwasher again. I’m so happy you were able to unpack a box – that is HUGE. And you WROTE! MAGNIFICENT!!! Little steps towards the light is still moving forward.
Thank you for all your posts, and especially this one that resonates, is moving, and helpful on so many levels- you have no idea-
Ah, yet another fantastic post! I lately have not felt (or behaved) like a Functional Human Being at all. Reading this is inspiring, wich makes me feel like aspiring to Do One Thing.
So many of these comments have resonated with me as well, such as the one about sea glass, snd the one about “never not broken.” I’m also reminded of the Japanese art of kintsugi.
On a Highly Practical Note: remember that a cat is like a toddler who can reach the ceiling, so you will probably want to secure your kaleidoscope on a base that will not allow Purrsy to wreak feline havoc with it. Best of luck with that.
Even writing this comment has taxed my brain. Good things brains don’t have nerve endings, our we’d be in Serious Trouble.
Thank you, dear Jenny, for this beautiful post. The kaleidoscope metaphor is spot on. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I’m also going through a bad patch. But we both know that we’ll get over it. We have before and will again. The fact that you’re still blogging shows great strength. You are a bright light to us all, and we love and respect you. Never forget that you are not alone. And, this too shall pass.
Love and big hugs, Linda ♥️
I had a very bad six weeks, unusually bad even though I’m used to some kind of bad being usual. And then I popped out of it, from one day to the next, and the sun is shiney again. I don’t know why it goes like this, but speaking from one who has recently passed from shade to sun, we are here and we care for you.
Lost home and everything to wildfire almost 6 years ago. Nowhere close to having a new home. Most every day is a struggle to get out of bed or off the couch. My daughter says “sharing is caring.” When you share, you lift us up because we know we’re not alone. And we love you.
So sorry that you, too, fight Depression. First D makes you question every situation, then D feeds you lies that keep you doubting yourself. Hang in there! You have gotten through this before, and this too will pass. Virtual hugs from Michigan.
Perfection. Where’s the mystery in that? Broken and beautiful inspires song writers, movie makers, authors, & lovers. Thank you for being among those that bring a beautiful kaleidoscope of colour and inspiration to the world!
Love this. ❤️. I moved a year ago and I opened 2 boxes this week. Found treasures I had forgotten about.
Baby steps but I’m doing it. 💕
This is very inspiring. a bright spot in an otherwise mundane day.
When you can see the beauty in the broken, all is not lost. Thank you for always sharing. You help so many, so remember you are invaluable! Love you, Jo-Anne.
I hope you aren’t disappointed in yourself for how you’ve written this post, or that you still feel like writing it with brain fog was detrimental in some way. This post felt like it was written the way my foggy brain thinks – the pieces waver and filter in and out of the dappled sunlight of the meandering path of my mind. I’m so glad you kept the kaleidoscope.
You go girl!!
I appreciate your “broken” post. I am under the weather after a vacation and lots of jet lag. I am feeling disappointed that I didn’t somehow do a better job and come back in “good shape”. Maybe the the view I have right now will show things in a different light, let me see something that I would have missed before. Including, perhaps, a chance to be kind to myself and give myself the time I need to heal.
By the way, a friend of mine a few years ago said “If you’re not following the Bloggess you’re doing it wrong.”
He was right!
You are beautiful and brave!
I moved nearly 2 years ago, and still have 20 boxes to go through! And I don’t even suffer from depression.
Super lovely. Sending you fog-clearing vibes and the ability to remember you, too, are beautiful.
Thank you. I needed to hear this today.
” Broken, fragile, perhaps a little bit dangerous…but still beautiful and unique with the right kind of eyes that are willing to look.” Jenny these words are beautiful and so very true. Stay true, stay strong, and stay here.
Thank you for sharing this.
I’ve been following you since I was a depressed high school kid desperate to see if there was another side to life. You’ve helped me through more than you could ever know.
I’ve had ups and downs and life is life. I’m in the depression trenches again and it looks like we are down here together.
I wish we weren’t but if we’re both in the mud – thank you for being with me. Let’s get back up among the flowers soon.
I want to be your mirror, and reflect everything you wrote, and all the love within it, back unto you.
Carolyn
Hang in there please, dearest Jenny! So very sorry you’re hurting, but the clouds will hopefully lift again soon.
Thank you, Jenny, for always sharing the real you.
We love you!!!
Do what I do. Read Furiously Happy.
Jenny, this is beautiful. I feel like you see and interpret things in just the right way at just the right time. Please recognize the kismet and know that you are adored even when you don’t adore yourself. Love you!
A little broken, a little dangerous. I feel like there’s a really good band name in there somewhere. Should we form one? I can play the kazoo…
I forgot to say perfect. You are perfect and wonderful. Perfectly broken, dangerous, amazing.
Jenny you are perfect. What a beautiful read this was. I am so sorry you suffer this way but happy you can gather yourself to keep in touch with us. Xo
Thank you. Even when you’re feeling not back to yourself you help us all see things in a different and beautiful way.
Hugs. I’m still unpacking a year after moving too and it feels like it will never end. I also found some broken things. There is something shocking about finding something you had forever —broken. More hugs and good vibes coming your way.
Love you, Jenny. In your darkest moments, you still inspire and lift us up — and we want to do the same for you.
Seems pretty damn eloquent to me!
this was beautiful, we’re all broken someway or another but we keep going. I’m glad you have kept going …. thank you
Ah, the unpacked boxes! I excel at ignoring unpacked boxes – I have so many of them. Some were boxes that got moved a second time 35 years ago and are still to be unpacked. I’m sure I’ll find untold treasures if I ever DO unpack them. Or complete trash, who knows? I was puzzled at first because I misread what you wrote and thought you said you were unpacking a couch from a box… WOW! Maybe a miniature couch from one of your doll houses I thought, then I re-read the sentence and saw my mistake. Being a bit broken definitely gives us a unique perspective on the world, doesn’t it? Sending love and hugs and extending a hand to help you climb out of the pit of depression.
Thank you for showing all of us that it’s still possible to see the beauty in things when depression is shadowing darkness across everything.
I’m stuck in the darkness right now after needing to stop all medications for depression due to a bad reaction. I’m struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel needing to wait two more weeks or until my body doesn’t hate me anymore before I can explore alternative options.
Two weeks isn’t long but it feels like forever all at the same time. I’ll keep looking for the beautiful in the broken to remind myself there will be light.
Jenny, I moved over two years ago. I still have two boxes to Unpack. We do what we can we are enough. We are good and for me personally, I am quite like the kaleidoscope a little broken but still quite useful and beautiful in a unique way.
I understand exactly how you feel about your depression and your kaleidoscope. I have a broken kaleidoscope that a friend gave me over 30 years ago and I still love it. Take care sweet girl.
Your books and Bloggess site make a fabulous kaleidoscope, creating beauty from brokenness.
That was beautiful! Thanks Jenny.
Sending love and support.