Knerdy Knitting
where spelling isn't as important as awesome

Stick right needle through loop.

Wrap yarn around needle.

Pull yarn through.

Straighten everything out.

Lie down and rest before next stitch.

As will become clear as this blog progresses, I have a wonky brain.  Different doctors say it has different afflictions, but basically nobody has a good name for it or knows what to do about it.  My symptoms got unmanageable when I was around twenty and for the last eight years I’ve been figuring out what that means about the rest of my life.  Working full time is out.  Getting the advanced degrees I’ve dreamed about is out.   During bad times, participating in the consensus reality is out.  But (so far) knitting is never out.

It can take a lot of effort.  Knitting a few rows can leave me so exausted that I can’t stand long enough to shower.  And it isn’t always fun.  More than once knitting has been the focus of an irrational breakdown.  But I keep coming back to it and I keep working with it.  Because just like the meds and the light box and the exercise and the therapy, I think the knitting helps.

It’s something simple to fill the time when I can only do simple things.  The pull of the yarn between my right hand fingers is grounding.  I might be feeling all sorts of strange sensations that result from a misprocessing brain,  but this gentle tug is real.  I can see the yarn, I can see my fingers, and when the yarn pulls I feel it move.  Knitting is repetitive, using mostly muscle memory to make the stitches, which keeps my “lizard brain” distracted for a while and gives my “human brain” time to rest.  And when it’s all done, I have something to show for my effort.  Yoga might get me flexible legs, but knitting gets me killer socks.