10.27.2011

kindly disregard this completely incoherent rambling.

yesterday i was lamenting - and oh do i love me some lamenting - that my depression often rears its ugly head in the form of anger, and i fear that that particular symptom is especially damaging to my children.
and yesterday was bad. yesterday my son said he was "scared of me when i yell like that and make that scary face." i looked in the mirror to see my scary face, which was a very, very bad idea.
so when i woke up blue this morning, it was quite a relief. blue i can do. blue i can fake my way through. i indulge in the illusion that because i don't actively entertain the idea of offing myself, somehow how blue is under my command.
blue began this morning as a very pretty, self-indulgent shade of indigo.
it was cold. it was dark. it was raining. it was a perfect day for blue.
i put on a disingenuous smile and got the kids up & ready. anna had to put on her costume for her preschool halloween party, which nicely complimented my complete inability to enjoy something thoroughly enjoyable, as she was tickled pink and ridiculously cute and all that. i was less-than-usually annoyed with the "ouch your pulling!" whine that begins before i open the drawer with the brush in it, and was grateful for numbness.
blue settled in nicely on the cold, wet drive to drop anna off in spring grove. i was devising a plan. call off sick from work (i can proudly say this is the first time i've called off for depression with this particular employer. i coughed a lot during the call. kindly disregard, lone co-worker allowed this peek into my life) i was thinking of complimentary blue music to listen to on the way home. (ended up going with Ben Folds, which was an excellent choice) i was thinking of maybe watching Moulin Rouge, or What Dreams May Come, or Dead Poet Society, or some other movie guaranteed to turn on the water works. perhaps Sopie's Choice is available On Demand? i was, quite frankly, really looking forward to it.
on the way home, though, a detour - quite literally. an suv turned over on its roof on moulstown road. the following realizations unfolded, in this order:
1. i said a small prayer for the folks in the car. which is bizarre, as i'm not a Christian, and haven't "prayed" in the traditional sense since, maybe, early middle-school. is it weird that, in hind-sight, i fear this might be some sort of red flag?
2. wow i completely forgot to get freaked out about driving in the rain, particularly on moulstown, as i have every time since totalling my car (on that road, in the rain) last fall.
3. shit they're making me turn right and i don't know how to get home from there. this is such a pretty road. jigsaw-puzzle-picture road. all yellows & oranges. woods. red barns. stone houses. i want a stone house! i wonder if i'll ever have a stone house? would i be happy in a stone house? hogwash. attachment. ridiculous. i'll be happy when i develop the wherewithal to put into practice my steadfast belief that i am in control of my own happiness...
4. um...i should probably be feeling some sort of, i don't know, gratitude? that i'm alive and well and not in that suv? some inkling that that could have just as easily been me and how awful would that be?
the problem is...okay. the really very scary problem is that i couldn't muster that. i didn't necessarily wholly adopt the warm, welcoming idea that "well, shit, they won't have to worry about anything anymore". but i felt it there, sort of in a far corner of my brain, starting to gel, and put the kibosh on it before it had the chance to fully come to fruition. sort of a...pre-thought, that i stopped mid-melding. which i must say i enjoy a particular knack at doing. always have. if you stop yourself somewhere between sensing it and actually giving it an internal voice, then it doesn't really count. we all know that.
my pretty indigo was transmogrifying into a deep, midnight-y, ultra-marinish, harder-to-escape color. (this is where i went in search of the right term, which still escapes me: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Shades_of_blue)
the bulk of my blue day was fairly disappointing. did some work, because, well, i just can't not do some work. allowed myself to get lost on Huffington Post, completely avoiding my melancholy, when what i really wanted to do was revel in it. even rearranged my dresser which is oddly energetic for this mood, brought little solace, and which i still don't completely understand.
but then i got to pick to sam up from school, and because i didn't have the cd in my car that he wanted to listen to, and because, well, he's sam, i enjoyed a berating of "i hate you"s and "i wish you weren't my mommy"s that managed to get me back on track. my little guy. thank you. i was looking for a broken heart all day...
the drive back from sam's after-school-thursday gig was just an almost orgasmic outpouring of tears, complimented beautifully by 'Still Fighting It' and 'Fred Jones Pt. 2'. (please, if you need a good cry: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnU3zuqncwo) but then, you know, i had to pick up anna, and she was all exited about her party, and i had to, you know, feed her & bathe her and stuff. and then the ex showed up with sam, who he apparently fed halloween candy to for dinner, which annoyingly pre-empted the gratifying spiral into self-hating internal dialogue that i can usually count on his presence to inspire.
and now they're asleep. i told them a story about goblins and squinkees and candy. sam cried because he felt bad about telling me (again, at bedtime) that he hates me.
random thoughts that flashed in my mind today:





  • its possible i do my kids more harm than good


  • work will eventually figure out that i'm totally half-assing it


  • no way the electric bill gets paid on time

  • you are getting ridiculously fat. like, freshman year, second semester fat


  • you really can't afford this $6.99 bottle of wine, which is funny & sad

  • you have no real reason to be sad, you selfish, selfish bitch


  • you're not good at much. you're not even good at being depressed


  • you shouldn't post another blog so soon, you are emotionally exhausting your friends. how can they not be sick of you? i'm sick of you.
guy will be home soon, and damn it if he won't make me smile. a girl just can't enjoy a proper downward spiral with all these fucking distractions.
i may need to try again tomorrow.

10.26.2011

a minimalistic approach

Maybe i just need to start small.
Today, for instance, i really wanted to go for a run. Okay, not go for a run so much as feel good, later, about having gone for a run. But i knew it wasn't in the cards; i simply did not have it in me to sweat today. Instead of my usual lunch break though - a nap or Huffington Post - i took the dog for a walk. A decent one, too - a good mile at least, moderate pace. Got warm enough to lose the jacket, but didn't get out of breath. And while i don't feel as good about myself as i would if i'd gone for a run, i feel a lot better about myself than i would if i'd napped. As a bonus, it was fairly easy and enjoyable so i feel there's a good chance i'll do it again tomorrow.
Perhaps i can bring this approach to the rest of my life? Lose the all-or-nothing modus operandi that inevitably leaves me reeking of failure?
I'm already pretty good at "scraping by" or doing the bare minimum at work. Luckily for me, my bare minimum in that particular arena is pretty damn good. So i'm covered there.
I've stayed on top of tackling housework this way as well lately - a load of laundry here, a sink of dishes there...beats the hell outta spending 2 days cleaning what i've essentially allowed to become a shithole. (though i really do need to address the closet/dresser situation - sick to death of living out of laundry baskets)
Where else can i apply this? My biggest challenge, and the one with the weightiest consequences by far, is parenting. How could i apply this there?
It seems anathema to say i'm shooting for being "a good enough mom", but waking up every morning and setting the bar at "i won't raise my voice today" is not serving me well. By noon (at the latest) i've blown it, and inevitably feel like my chances at being "a good mom" that day are shot. Its generally downhill from there...
The thing is, you know - our kids, they deserve perfect parents. Why would we strive to be anything less?
Why? Because its unattainable. And because beating your head against that particular brick wall will only serve to make you more frustrated and more prone to lose your temper, now that you've piled certain failure on to your parenting to-do list.
And, while i can't say with any certainty whether i truly believe this or its just a handy rationalization, i have a sneaking suspicion that the children of perfect parents, if such a thing existed, would grow up to be assholes. I mean, think of the lessons you've learned second-hand from the mistakes your parents have made.
This is all well & good in theory, but didn't bring me much comfort last night as i realized my neighbors actually heard me say to my son, through gritted teeth, after seven meltdowns about trick or treating, "would you please just pretend to be a kid who likes free candy long enough for me to take this stupid picture?!"
So i don't know. Maybe there's some forgiveness there that needs to take place. Maybe i - dare i say "we"? - need to forgive ourselves, from time to time, for not being perfect parents. And maybe smaller, more attainable goals would help me boost my confidence a bit, be a little more comfortable in my "mom suit".
Am i seriously considering lower my standards as a parent?

10.22.2011

hi i'll be your psycho-girlfriend this evening...

So i try to keep up with this Depression issue. Read the studies (and by studies i mean blogs referencing studies)...keep my finger on the pulse, so to speak. And i've heard talk of paranoia rearing its ugly head, conveniently allowing me to feel a little LESS fucked up than some folks out there...
Then tonight: paranoia, albeit totally understandable paranoia. (that makes sense in my head! cause i'm nuts!)
Without betraying the juicy details i'm saving for my memoir, today my guy went golfing with my soon-to-be-ex-husband (its SO much cheaper to just keep calling him that). Trust me, the nuance with which this particular Three's Company storyline materialized is not that interesting. Suffice it to say, it just...is.
Now we all get along amazingly well and spend probably an inordinate amount of time together. And I won't comment on that except to say that it has by and large eliminated the "loyalty complex" that often plagues sons when hanging with mom's new beau, so its a good thing.
This afternoon, I snapped. I learned that despite my best efforts to be the uber-cool laid-back girlfriend i like to think of myself as, there is, in fact, a tiny little psycho inside of me.
At 2:00 i hoped they were all getting along well. At 3:00 i wondered what they could possibly be talking about? By 4:00 i wondered how much beer was involved, and by 5:00 i was pretty well convinced than my guy had learned some here-to-fore unrealized truth about me that set him running to the hills.
Now, I could've been talked down at this point, so i texted no less than 7 of my best friends in hopes of a distraction conversation. life, and my timing, being what they are...i got a few wholly-appreciated responses that none the less only managed to distract my spiraling mind for a few moments.
The imaginary conversations gelling in my head were of mythic, if Seinfeldian, proportions.
All is well. Man is home and happy for it, having had a fun day but missed me. Truly the best one could hope for from such an afternoon.
I am doing my "look in from outside dance" and spending copious amounts of time on WebMD and AOL Health. Stumbled across this golden nugget: "Depression and Paranoia may appear together. When they do, they are often signs of serious psychotic illness such as Schizophrenia, bipolar disorder (also called manic depression) or psychotic depression."
eh....fuck it. Pretty sure it'll be fine. In any case, i'll look further back to find some time-tested wisdom (a generation, anyway). From the Desiderata: "Don't trouble yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born from fatigue and loneliness."

10.06.2011

On my non-existent 10-year anniversary...

I would've preferred not to wake up to a text this morning, from my soon-to-be-ex-husband, wishing me a Happy Anniversary.

10 years ago today, I was preparing my wedding. The florist was setting up, the cake was being delivered, I was having my hair done. I gotta say...I was pretty psyched (and not just from the breakfast mimosas). Instead of preparing for my wedding, though, turns out I should've been preparing for my marriage.

What a bitter-sweet day today is. I feel border-line guilty about this, but you know what? I had a gorgeous wedding. It was a beautiful day. I looked amazing. I was surrounded by family and friends, some of whom I haven't seen since. Is it weird that I remember my wedding so fondly, given it was the start of an unsuccessful marriage? And just how tacky would it be to display a pic of me on that day? Cause let's face it, I'll likely never look that good again...

At the same time, the sentiment of that day falls flat in my memory. Words said, promises made... I've spent many the hour of alone-time wondering: did I mean the words when I said them, then allowed life and time to change my mind? Or were they hollow from the get-go? Did the path veer off course, or was it the wrong path to begin with? Today, predictably, brings those questions to mind again (though it feels like well-traveled ground).

I'm trying t determine the value of answering those questions now. I'm a true believer in learning from mistakes. It seems perfectly sensible that I might make better decisions in my relationships moving forward if I can cultivate some lessons from the ghosts of relationships past. But then, I've already moved forward (with an amazingly loving man) and dwelling feels like... holding back. I imagine if I were dating (okay, living with) me, I probably wouldn't be too happy about me spending much time dissecting my previous marriage.

In a perfect world, these are questions I would've asked and answered previous to moving on. Timing seldom being perfect, Love presented itself to me before I had the chance to work through all that. And Love, the kind of Love I have now...well, you really need to grab it when you have the chance, perfect timing or not.

I guess I'm seeking...finality. Completion. I want to close this chapter of my life, confident that won't have to open that book again.

Unfortunately for me, finality runs a minimum $1000.00 retainer these days...

10.02.2011

our mirrors

Do you ever give any thought to the quantity and quality of the mirrors you look into?
We can spend unlimited energy and time trying to know ourselves (if your narcissism approaches mine, really - unlimited energy & time) but do we ever approach any kind of objective assessment? No, we don't. So we rely on mirrors.
Our parents, our friends, our children, our lovers. These are our true mirrors. How do they see us? How do they experience us? How much import do we award these mirrors, and how accurate are they?
I've spent some time, as of late, putting myself in the shoes of my trusted mirrors, trying to see what they see. As...difficult, and let's say, well, painful as this exercise can be...surely there's a lesson of value there. But the results are so diverse, and so...filtered.
FIRST let me say - an honest mirror is worth its weight in gold. Flattering or not, there is no one in your life of as much value as your honest mirror.
My mirrors are varied any many.
My father, I think, while proud, probably views me as somewhat...impulsive. Lacking a plan. Certainly lacking a budget (as i am). There are things I could do better at.
My mother, I fear, thinks I am a bit superior. Big for my britches, in a way, much the way I think of my daughter, often.
My ex. He finds me lazy, a poor housekeeper, and probably a bit of a know-it-all.
My friends.
My friends are varied. I have one that thinks I sold out. I have one that thinks I should sell out and haven't yet. And, I recently learned, I have one that thinks Depression is a little bit of bullshit, and an excuse for my lazy approach to life. This was a...difficult realization. It was difficult because, like most people, I assumed the fact that this person was my friend meant they thought I was pretty, well, fucking cool. Why else would they waste their time on me?
I sat with this a bit. I went through the usual process, anger, denial, resentment, acceptance, what have you. I came out on the other side. Well, not really...I'm on way to coming out on the other side. But I learned something important already.
Those friends that support every choice you make; they're great. They're necessary. They build you up.
Those friends that risk your friendship to speak hard truths to you, knowing you may revolt and leave them (i have a few)...they're great too. They may tear you down, but that's just as important. They're brave. And they should be valued.
Its like...conservatives watching Fox and liberals watching MSNBC. You can't surround yourself solely with people who validate the opinions you already hold. If you do... you're not growing. And, you know, painful or not - growing is important. Its everything, really.
I was recently a less-than-flattering mirror for a friend. I looked for very supportive and loving ways to communicate it. It was...a struggle. I am spending a lot of time, today, hoping it didn't cost me a friend.
But...I've come to believe that there is no higher calling than honesty. That regardless of fall out, of the practical consequences, we're here, ultimately, to learn from one another. To grow. To move forward. When we can do that together - that is the ideal. When we can't, we should still be grateful for the growth. Growing pains and all.