Posts Tagged With: depression

Sundance knows all the things

Sundance sent me a package late last week.

The inside of the card says, ‘add vodka and soda and call it a day’.
That is so us.

She knows I’ve been struggling emotionally. So she sent a little something to say, “You got this.” and “I love you.” all in one.
How kind of her.
I look at that little red haired girl on the book and smile. She’s a little bad ass for sure!
Somewhere inside me is that little warrior goddess. The one that won’t take shit off anybody. The one that really does “got this”. She must be taking a nap or something, because she doesn’t seem to be showing up of late.
I wonder if I need to be all, “WAKE UP!!” or if I need to continue to be patient and know I’ll come out the other side of this low point when I’m meant to.

I have no choice but to wait and see.
I’m so tired of feeling this way.
YBW asks me, “How are you feeling today, baby?”
It would be lovely to respond with something other than, “I’m me.”

But I am me.
I’m depressed.
I am also a bad ass warrior goddess.

Sundance knows this with certainty.
She’s my anam cara. My soul friend. My soul sister. She knows all the things.
I am truly blessed.

Advertisements
Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

learning that love is safe

From approximately 2:00 to 6:00 am Saturday morning I was up. And I mean up.
Wide awake. Downstairs on the sofa. Dressed (well, jammie pants and a sweatshirt).
Ate a bowl of cereal, and drank 60 oz of water.

I watched a little Whose Line?
I’d forgotten how funny those guys are.

I cleared the DVR of Beat Bobby Flay.
I wrote a little bit.
Since I’m still limiting my time with news and social media, I got creative with my online reading, and came across another powerful post by Peg Streep.

I became familiar with her work in the fall when I experienced the understanding of how being an ‘unloved daughter’ shaped my adult relationships.
The article I read in the wee hours is called 6 Things Daughters of Unloving Parents Need to Unlearn.
I see myself in her words.

The insecurely attached daughter sees things quite differently. If her mother has been unreliable — sometimes emotionally present, but sometimes not — she grows up wary of both needing love and those individuals who could provide it. Her attachment style is called anxious-preoccupied, because she worries constantly about whether she’s loved, whether the relationship is genuine, and whether her lover will stay true or betray her. She is on constant watch for signs that things might not be what they seem, and that makes it more likely that she’ll both read into and react to words and actions more strongly than she needs to. She’s high in rejection sensitivity, which makes being with her hard, as does her temper when she feels slighted or in danger.

I feel like this most of the time.
Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. That I’ll do something to displease and love will be withheld and I’ll be left with nothing but unanswered questions.

YBW and I had an emotional experience with this vulnerable unloved part of me in January. I hated that he was there in the place where that small, frightened, insignificant feeling part of me resides. I hated that he saw how unlovable I feel. I hated that he had that knowledge, and without actually understanding it, I was fearful of what he might do with it.
When I’d run out of tears I finally said, “I’m afraid you won’t love me.” He assured me he did and would continue to do so.
I nodded and said, “I believe you, but I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
That precious, kind and loving man picked up his feet and said to me in the most sincere voice, “I have two shoes on my feet.” And then he hugged me.

I struggled with how to feel about that encounter for several days. He was aware, and expressed his love through simply checking in with me, lots of hand holding, and more hugs than usual. He understood I was trying hard to make sense of it and when I did, he’d be ready to go through it with me.
After actively journaling, and an honest conversation with Thing 2, I was finally ready to unpack it with YBW.
Thing 2 cried happy tears at the two shoes story and then said the most powerful thing!
She said, “Momma, he’s YBW, not Dad, not Grandmommy. He’s not capable of using that against you.”

He had been to the place where I am the smallest, most pitiful me. He saw the me that all the other layers of me protect with an unparalleled ferocity. He was there humbly. He was there with kindness. He was there with acceptance. He expressed love. He reassured love. Never once was he gathering ammunition.

The next day over dinner, I was ready to talk about it with YBW.
The one thing he said that nearly killed me was this, “I don’t even know how I could use that information against you.”
The man does not function that way. Does not begin to understand how to use a vulnerability to manipulate or humiliate.
Maybe I am safe after all.

6 things that unloved daughters learn about love. (that need to be unlearned because they’re crap)

1. That love is a transaction.
2. That love is conditional.
3. That emotions (and true feelings) need to be hidden.
4. That love needs to be sought and searched for.
5. That love makes you vulnerable and weak.
6. That love hurts.

This article might as well be written specifically about me. It rings true down deep in me. This is how I have felt my whole life.
But I’m learning something new.
YBW is teaching me love can be safe.

I sent him an email with the link for the article and the following words.
This might give you more insight into why I am the way I am. And how hard I work to see and do it differently.
You are teaching me that love is safe. You! Thank you for that.

I always say I spend my days teaching and learning. I’ve mostly meant it in relation to children. But YBW is teaching and learning with me too. To teach and learn with love is the biggest blessing of all.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

perk me up playlist

I couldn’t sleep for a few hours in the middle of the night Thursday. I was kind of cold, and not exactly awake enough to get out of bed. But not really able to sleep either.
I thought about the positives and negatives about my day. I considered ways I could trick myself out of this emotional state so that the old adage ‘feelings follow actions’ might just come true. I thought a load of other things too, but kept coming back to this one.
How can I jump start myself into a healthier emotional place?
And a song came into my head.
Or rather the way it feels to play the song in the car with the windows down singing my heart out.
I caught myself smiling.

I decided then and there to create a playlist filled with songs that perk me up the moment I hear the first chords. Obviously I did this in my head because I just told you I didn’t get up.
I did eventually fall back asleep, but when I woke, I remembered most of the songs I’d considered in the middle of the night. So I did the only thing I could possibly do.
I made a list. In my brand new List Whore notebook.
A quick list of songs that perk me up the moment they begin to play.
Please listen responsibly.

Zero to Hero
Hercules

Balance Beam
Blue October

Suite: Judy Blue Eyes
Crosby, Stills & Nash

Platinum Blonde Life
No Doubt

SexyBack
Justin Timberlake

Dancing Queen
Mamma Mia! (the movie)

N17
Saw Doctors

California Gurls
Katy Perry

A Punk
Vampire Weekend

Wild Wild Life
Talking Heads

Who Do You Think You Are
Spice Girls

You Can’t Stop the Beat
Hairspray (the movie)

They’re not in any real order. Which is OK, because this isn’t a play list you can listen to in order. You gotta hit shuffle and turn it up! They probably don’t make much sense to the average listener, but that’s OK too. These are my perk up songs so they make sense to me.
Now I’m curious, what do y’all listen to to perk yourselves up?

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

yay and boo (a homework assignment)

I follow this wonderful blog written by a woman in NYC. Like me, she writes about life and her observations. Yesterday she wrote this post.
In closing, she wrote:

I’m giving you homework tonight. At the end of the evening, go back and reflect on your day. Write the highs and the lows.

She went on to say the highs must be equal to or outnumber the lows, and wondered at the process.

I’ve actually been considering this as a way to keep me looking for the positive while I’m in this state of mind, so I was inclined to accept her homework assignment.
It was a quiet, and mostly uneventful day. Here’s what I came up with.

As you can see, I made two columns.
A yay column and a boo column. I felt making it playful might possibly cut the edge.

Under the yay column is written:
*pampered with pedi (a curious Tiffany blue color that reads a bit greenish)
*chili for dinner (seems self explanatory)
*ladies free skate (thanks, Olympics)
*Beat Bobby Flay (love to binge this show while I’m doing things around the house)
*sold 4 items (at a discount, but still made profit)

Under the boo column is written:
*stuffy ear cannot hear (also hurts, but already on antibiotics)
*rainy af (especially after two days of gorgeous, the rain just seems to make my emotional mood worse)
*low (seems self explanatory)

I actually enjoyed this exercise. Of course I already mentioned it was an uneventful day, which made it simpler to watch a little TV after coming home from a well executed pedicure at a new salon.
But taking that time for myself, stopping to have my feet pampered, then watching Bobby Flay while I prepped dinner and did a few things around the house made me feel comfortable and content. Simple ways to live my intention.

I’m going to continue this daily exercise for a while and pay close attention to where my focus is during my days.
Thanks, LA for putting it out there so I could pick it up.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

apparently, I need to “calm my stress”

At the holistic doctor on Tuesday, “Your adrenals are pissed. You need to calm your stress.”
Um…Ya think?

I’m staying off social media.
I’m not watching the news.
I’m trying not to listen when I overhear folks talking.
This is what I’m doing to calm my stress over the school shooting in Parkland Florida.

It is not lost on me that I spend my days in a public school. In a huge, open room with no safe place to corral children to hide. With doors that do not lock.
Would I do whatever it took to keep these children safe?
Yes.
Would I die for them?
Possibly.
Do I feel like that’s my job?
Hell no.

Do I want to keep the children in my school safe?
Absolutely!
Do I need to give my life to do so?
I’d rather not, thanks.

I’m a mom. I’m a wife. In the Autumn, I’ll be a grandmother. However grown, is it acceptable for my girls to be motherless because I died protecting other peoples children? And YBW? Is it acceptable for him to be a widower before we even gain traction on our greatest life adventure together? And little Shrimpy, the bebe I long to know and love. To teach and learn with. To watch irritate his or her mother and Auntie. Is it acceptable for that child to miss out on what might possibly be the coolest grandmother-grandchild relationship ever?

I carry this in me each day I arrive at my sweet little suburban elementary school. (Which, BTW shares physical campus space with an equally sweet suburban high school.)

Now this concept is always and has always been in the back of my mind. And to be quite honest, I lived through something similar during the sniper attacks in October 2002. Keeping children safe through that was a bit more simple, we just never let them go out of doors. At school, or at home.

Do I honestly believe someone will come into our school and start shooting it up?
No.
Is my concern understandable?
Yes.

And then we had a two day heat wave. And I mean record breaking warm temperatures.
I opened the windows wide!
I let the cruddy stale winter air be replaced by delightful breezy spring air.
We needed the sunlight. (My vitamin D is so low.) We needed the beauty of the past two days.

Of course, we’re not the only house in the neighborhood with windows open. And so it came to pass yesterday from the hours of 3:00 to nearly 8:00 the horrible shouty man screamed obscenities and threats at his wife.
This is not new in our neighborhood. There is long standing knowledge of the chaos that is their relationship. Apparently it isn’t physical, just verbal. She drinks too much and he shouts horrific things at her. He shouts horrific things at her and she drinks too much.
Which came first?
We may never know.

I’ve been anxious and bordering on depressed for a few weeks now, to such degree I’ve begun conversations with YBW about me talking with my doctor regarding mood meds.
I’m dull. I’ve lost my sparkle. I’m sleeping too much. I’m suffering insomnia. I eat nothing. I’m bingeing.
I can’t seem to shake myself loose from it.

It’s partly because of this that what happened to those kids in Parkland feels…more.
It’s partly because of this that the horrible shouty man screaming at his wife on and off for five hours did me in yesterday.

Early on in the afternoon, his shouting made me anxious. I knew it then, but I was busy with laundry, and had the TV on for sound it was easy to not hear his actual words. And somehow that kept me feeling safe in my own house while I could hear him in his. But as it wore on and on I could feel myself flooding with stress hormones.
But then as suddenly as it began, it stopped.

Just as I began to feel comfortable again, YBW came home. Even though I’m struggling, I had momentary joy.

Before long, the shouting started again. Only this time, it was closer.
From what I can deduce, the wife went over to one of the neighbors to get away from him. So when his shouting began again, they were at the house directly behind ours.
I was sitting in my comfy chair right next to the window. I could hear every word.
I was on the computer in the middle of something that I needed to finish immediately. I turned on music to drown out his shouting. I wanted to close the window but I was hot and the breeze felt nice.
As I sat here, I became more stressed and more anxious. Realizing I was feeling fearful in my own house!
My face was hot and my head began to hurt and I forced myself out of the shallow breathing pattern.

When I finally finished my task, I went downstairs. YBW was watching the Olympics. I came into the room and said, “I’m so anxious from listening to him shout for so long.” YBW immediately wrapped his body around mine and held me close and quietly. I actually felt as though I melted into him for a moment. That embrace was powerful enough to calm my body and my spirit. YBW’s love grounded me, and I’m so grateful.

Just writing about this now I’m feeling nearly as anxious as I did yesterday.

The actions of others are impacting me with a greater force than I would like.
Normally I have the skills to fend off these outside influences. I normally repel them with the strength of my character. My strong will, and sense of humor.
Seems I’m tapped out of late.
I seem unable to calm my stress.
I hear Hagrid’s frantic voice in my head, “It was dark times, Harry. Dark times.”

I have an appointment with my therapist.
I have herbs and supplements from the holistic doctor that are meant to aid in improving my sense of emotional well being.
If I can’t seem to shake myself from the place I am, I’ll go my general practitioner and have a conversation to see if spending a bit of time with Wellbutrin might make a difference.

In the meantime, I’m only watching HGTV, Food Network, and the Olympics, and I’ve closed the windows on my computer and my house to help block things that only make me more anxious.
But I left the curtains open to let in the ever helpful and hopeful sunlight.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

just hold on a bit longer

I haven’t felt like writing in a while.
What’s curious about this is I find I miss it. Writing, that is.
My health has been…questionable. This plays a huge part in my desire and ability to write, but it’s also my mood. Where I am in my head. I haven’t had the emotional strength to write.

I feel as though there are angry little fish swimming round in my brain.
I feel as though I’m barely keeping my head above water.
Chronic pain breeds anxiety and depression.
I’ve got to break the cycle. I’ve got to figure a way to get it together.

Perhaps forcing myself to write will help with that.
If this was my journal I’d just write stream of consciousness stuff till I found my groove. I’ll spare y’all the chaos of that, but I will write about what’s taking up the most space in my mind…

Right now that’s the state of my health.
It didn’t go well at the new neurologist. She had (like every other neurologist I’ve seen) the bedside manner of a toad. I managed to keep it together until I left her office, but once I did I burst into angry tears. I was shaking and crying the whole way home. And I mean ugly crying. Poor YBW just held my hand. I am so frustrated! I just want to know how to feel better! So back to the drawing board for another new neurologist.
I’m tired of living with daily pain. I’ve lost my patience with always being tired. This is no way for a girl to live.

I’m overwhelmed and frustrated with life. It seemed smart at the time to throw myself headlong into school and lula and work, but now I’m realizing I bit off more than I could chew. I’m not sure what needs to be pushed off the plate. School can be pushed off the plate for up to three months, but that’s as long of a term break as I can have without withdrawing. And I can’t do that as I only have two more terms to finish.
Lula is almost successful. But needs more of my time and attention.
Work is overall good. Only it’s hard to stay engaged when I fell awful so frequently.

Perhaps I need to manage my time better. Surely I could do it all if I was properly organized? Though, I feel fairly organized and yet there are things that need to be accomplished that never seem to get checked off the list. I don’t feel like it should be this hard to live my life.

I miss being around my girls. I miss them every single day. It’s much harder to experience than I ever expected. It’s the silly things, being in the car together with fun music and great talks. Getting ready in the mornings together.
It’s hard for me to be so far away from them. Especially when I’m struggling, they bring me such comfort.
I know that they’re grown girls, that Thing 1 is married now, she’d be away from me no matter where I was. Thing 2 is at an age where she might be away from me too. I sometimes suspect it would be easier if it happened in that natural way. Or perhaps it would never be easy at all?

I’m floundering.
Being near my girls would be comforting, but I know that isn’t the way it’s to be.
YBW is comforting, only right now he’s preoccupied with the health of his mother. I see how it causes him to fret and I don’t want my stuff to add to that.

I’m just in a bad place right now. It will pass, and I’ll feel less like this. I’ll feel brighter and more engaged. Until then, I just have to hold on.
I’ve done it this long…
472738476-8ee9f9d57da138754fdab627043ca4d0

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , | 1 Comment

going through the motions

I have friends who’ve recently expressed their joy at my being in their lives. That I bring light and love and colors dancing into their worlds.
It should be a lovely feeling, knowing that I’m positively impacting the lives of people I care about. Only right now, I’m not feeling it.
I am not feeling terribly colorful at all.
Mostly I feel gray. I feel gray and dull. No color in my world. No sparkle.

I hardly even have the emotional energy to write this blog post.
I went to bed at 5:00 yesterday afternoon and woke about 7:30 this morning.
sleep
Sleep isn’t the answer.

I don’t know where my energy goes.
Is there some weird sort of vampiric thief of my positive energy? Something that sucks all the colors from my world? Is the energy I put out into the world simply consumed?
I’ve always felt what I put into the world comes back at me magnified. Therefore loads of sparkling color should be coming back at me.

I wrote recently about my intention for my life. I wrote of love. That I intend to live my life with love. That was the last time I felt truly positive. That isn’t to say I haven’t had moments of enjoying life, because I have…but there is an overall sense of nothing that’s bigger than the moments I’m engaged in something or with someone.

I’m apprehensive about using the word depression. But it seems to me it’s the word that makes the most sense. I’m not ‘just sad’. I feel numb. Though when I do feel, sadness is something that bubbles up to the surface. I know enough about depression to know what I’m feeling is something other than ‘just sad’. I’ll be journaling about this.

I don’t want to be an empty shell of a girl.
I want to be all fiery red hair and sassy verbiage and intentional love.

Like Buffy, I’m weary of going through the motions.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

patience or self-indulgence?

I was feeling mighty sorry for myself this morning. Filled with sadness and there were so many tears.
Nothing I did eased me.
This thought plagued me: I’m so tired of feeling sad and sorry for myself.

I’m tired of winter. I’m tired of feeling like hell all the time. Will I ever heal?
I’m failing at finding a job. I’m not keeping up with the house. I’m just a pathetic puddle of whininess and I can’t seem to snap myself out of it!

The weather is finally turning. It’s in the 70s today. I brought all the back porch furniture up from the basement and set it up. Filled the fountain and am now sitting out here listening to the water sounds and The Pierces.
20160308_152014.jpg

Thing 2 and I were texting this morning during my sadness. She was kind and reassuring. (I guess today it was her turn to be the Mommy.)
I thanked her and she replied: Of course, Momma ❤ you’re always there for me and I’m here for you. I love you ❤ you’re awesome, don’t lose sight of that because things are crappy.

A bit later I really lost patience with myself and sent this: Shame on me all weepy and whiny when I think about (the young man) being sick and what (that family) is going through I want to slap myself.

She came back with this: Hey now, don’t do that to yourself. Everyone has stuff going on. Yes, their shit is really big and really stinky right now but that doesn’t mean that your shit isn’t any easier or less important. It’s the biggest thing in your world right now so you can’t compare it.

Me: Why are you so wise? How? You truly amaze me.

Thing 2: I may not know a lot about everything but I do know a little bit about a lot of things. And that is something I have always told everyone and will always stick in my head, because that is the truest thing. So feel bad for them and love them, but do not feel guilty because you are “better off” but still feeling bad for yourself.

Me: Thank you! My God, you are amazing!

Thing 2: I try? I don’t see what the big deal is, it just makes sense to me.

Me: It makes total sense. It’s a wisdom that most people your age don’t possess. I have always known you are special. But sometimes you do something that goes beyond.

Thing 2: I am flattered. Thank you.

How does she have that wisdom?
How does she know that it’s OK for me to be miserable even though people I love have worse things to be miserable about?

I wasn’t even excited about the washer and dryer coming. I cannot stress how important it is to note that.
I took pics when they were delivered.
I wrote a blog post about it.
Even though these new machines are a great and wonderful gift, and even though I’ve used them with gusto this afternoon, I have little joy. The underlying sadness is digging in it’s heels.

It’s time for this to stop, it’s gone on too long. I’m beginning to wonder if I can snap out of it. How long before patience becomes self-indulgence?
Perhaps I need one of two things. The first being a swift spiritual kick to the head. The second is to breathe new air. (That’s one of my favorite phrases my friend and mentor says.)
I don’t know. I’m breathing breezy porch air right now…think that’ll help?

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

‘normal’ again

Today was the first day I felt ‘normal’ since the day my dad died. It was interesting to me, because YBW and I were sitting on the sofa and being goofy, kind of tickling and giggling and snuggling in front of the TV and in that moment I felt it. I felt ‘normal’…like myself. I was lying half across YBW I looked up and, a bit choked up, I said: I feel normal today, thank you.

I was asked how I was doing Wednesday by a friend who was over for dinner. I said: I’m so damn tired. I’ve been tired since the beginning of May. I don’t know if it is grief or depression or I’m just tired, but I’m sick half to death of it.
He understood. (He’s the dad of my little student who’s mother died in March.)

Today, I don’t feel tired. I feel like myself again.
I’m savvy enough to realize I’ll feel that particular kind of tired again, but I trust the ‘normal’ is here to stay.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Blog at WordPress.com.

Pointless Overthinking

Understanding myself and the world I live in.

Water for Camels

Encouragement and Development for Social Workers and Those with a Mission of Helping Others

Anxiety The Bitch

We are present in the millions, yet we remain unheard

J. A. Allen

Scribbles on Cocktail Napkins

Mistakes & Adventures

What I've always wanted

Persevere

By Dan Sims

In A Messy World

I live in a world of fantasy, so keep your reality away from me.

Living In the Sweet Spot

"You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present." Jan Glidewell

Waking up on the Wrong Side of 50

Navigating the second half of my life

Sawblades In Your Walkman

effervescing with muchness

Must Be This Tall To Ride

I'm a single dad documenting his journey. A guy trying to walk a higher path. And messing up. A lot.

OSCAR HOKEAH

Kiowa & Cherokee

ChrissyAdventures

Everyday is an Adventure. Embrace it

Kana Wanders

Life in Kana-text (er... CONtext)

Spring into Summer

finding my voice and speaking my truth

witlessdatingafterfifty

Relationships reveal our hearts.

JackCollier7

An Englishman, walking the Warrior's Path towards Ultimate Truth.

%d bloggers like this: