What do you expect to find in a blog entitled:  The Naked Knitter?

If you're thinking you're found a porno site, you're wrong.

If you think this post is entirely about knitting, you're wrong again.

I'm "bi".  Not bi-sexual.  Nor am I bi-lingual.  I am bi because I both knit and crochet.

Actually crocheting came before knitting.

Clothing came before optional.

The chicken came before the egg - or was it the other way around?

Those who follow my original blog, Ramblings of a Deranged Mind, will be somewhat familiar with my story:  a story of recovery, of survival, from severe stress.  A story of a life so changed by the aftereffects of latent, prolonged stress that once normal activities are no longer normal.  I once enjoyed regular walks through my neighbourhood, canoe camping, times with my family.  I wasn't the most active person in the world, but I WAS active.  I could cook meals for my family.  I could dance along with music from my CD's.  I was challenging myself more and more to overcome phobias, etc. that had been my life-long companions.  Life was fun.  Life was exciting.  I was enjoying life.  Looking around the corner for the next adventure.  The next challenge.

And then my life changed directions.  On a dime.  Without warning me in advance.

I had two stress breakdowns back to back.  Psychiatric injury.  Possible chronic fatigue - although undiagnosed.

Hypervigilism.  Extreme fatigue.  Lack of balance so severe at times that I have to grab onto whatever's handy to keep upright.  Trembling.  Weakness.  Speech impediments.  Destruction of once superb cognitive abilities.  Itching so bad that at times I could not wear clothes (hence the name of this blog).

I lost my job.  My husband lost his job at around the same time.  Life was no longer fun.

Each day became a challenge.  At one point during the worst of it, I was told that when a person has both physical and emotional challenges, the physical take precedence.

So I learned to listen to my body.  To do what it said.  Which meant I ended up isolated in my home for weeks while my body rested.  My husband took care of me during this time.  The church brought some meals.  A friend came over to visit while I laid on the couch.

There were days that I couldn't even sit up.  Couldn't read.  Couldn't do much of anything except lie in bed - and pray.

Through the journey to this point, I had been learning about right brain activity.  Reading.  Watching DVD's.  Knitting.  Crocheting.  These, and more, are all right brain activities.  They speak into the right brain to allow the left brain - the part that kept trying to make sense out of the nonsensical - rest and heal.  As I was able, I crocheted.  And crocheted.  And crocheted.  Making a pile of baby blankets - with no intended recipients.

And then I learned to knit.

My first projects were the "twirley" scarves.  A wonderful lady at a local yarn store showed me how to knit them.  Six - or eight - stitches one way and then back again.  Over and over.  Repetitive.    Right brain activity which allowed my brain to heal while my hands were active.  I loved the feel of the yarn in my fingers.  I loved watching the scarf grow beneath my fingers.  I loved the beautiful colours.  I loved the feeling of being creative.  Life started to be good again.  To have meaning.

In this blog, I will share my journey through the eyes of a beginning knitter.  The challenges.  The failures.  The successes.  How life and art knit themselves together.

This will not be a daily blog, probably a weekly one.

Stay turned.