Christmas is my favorite time of the year. I love family gatherings and doing the traditional things that I grew up doing and passed onto my kids. I love hanging out in our pj’s and watching Christmas movies. I love the services at church leading up to Christmas. I love watching snow fall and hoping for a white Christmas (OK, I don’t really get my hopes up for that one down here). I love Christmas music. I love watching when people open gifts that I’ve chosen for them. We’re going to Maine to be with my extended family this Christmas, which I am really looking forward to. I will admit that Christmas has lost some of its luster since my grandparents all passed away, but it is still a time of family and togetherness, which is my idea of heaven on earth. Seriously, people, this is the one month of the year that I generally feel like I am walking on clouds and nothing can burst that bubble- except for this year.
This year, I have felt my anxiety creeping back in, followed closely by it’s friend, depression. I find myself shaking, getting weak in the knees, and breathing fast- and then fighting the feeling to toss my cookies (of which I’ve eaten many). The two are always on the periphery, but I have been mostly successful at beating them back for the last year or two. Sadly, they’ve been winning out the last couple of weeks. This afternoon, when I finally managed to pull myself off the couch and into the shower, I seriously could not stop shaking and had to sit down. That tells me it is time to process things, figure them out, and try to let them go. I’m exhausted and cannot keep everything bottled up any more.
As an aside, I had something scheduled every day last week- Ryan’s therapy on Monday, mine (and a wrestling meet) on Tuesday, a meeting at school on Wednesday and Thursday, and Ryan’s practice on Friday. When I saw that, I thought I was going to be sick, so I cancelled the only thing I could- my therapist appointment. In hindsight, which always presents itself with such clarity, dammit, that was not such a great idea. Anyway, onto the boulder that is sitting on my chest.
I am worried about my kids. I’ve got one who threw away her career and degrees to move back in (girlfriend and dog in tow) with her parents and work two retail jobs. To be fair, she is working to become a police officer because she wants to make a difference in people’s lives- and she is genuinely happy. It is an admirable profession, for sure- but CMPD??? I feel like she is signing her death certificate. I come from an LEO family, and I am damn proud of it! However, I know the dangers that are faced- and those dangers grow exponentially every day. So, there’s that brick weighing on me now. I have another child who is suffering from an eating disorder that I am afraid is going to rob her of her health and wellness- and leave her already low esteem sitting somewhere around basement level. She is very successful in her career and loved by all who meet her, though I don’t think she realizes it. I’ve got a third child who spent time in the psych ward this summer because he has 3 different mental illnesses that he fights EVERY SINGLE DAY. Even though all my kids grew up in the church, none of them want anything to do with it now. Another parenting fail in an ever-growing list. Honestly, I get jealous of those just starting this parenting journey because they are starting fresh. I’ve learned some things on this parenting journey that I would definitely do differently. This was the first year I didn’t send a photo Christmas card. Know why? My middle child didn’t want her picture taken. I was going to write a Christmas letter about our happenings this year, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. What would I say? My choices were either to lie or not send one…so y’all got Peanuts instead. Who can’t use a little Snoopy and Charlie Brown love??
I feel like a phony. I am very good at putting on my happy face and going about life like it’s a bowl full of cherries. Everything in my life is going according to plan! Of course I know what I’m doing! I have tons of friends I go out and do things with! I love looking like the Pillsbury Dough Boy! I am happy, happy, happy! In fact, I have very little going according to plan, I never feel like I know what I’m doing, my friends are all too busy to do anything, and I am getting back to the point where I’d rather not leave the house. In fact, I ordered my husband’s Christmas stocking stuffers online so I didn’t have to go out and shop today. I just can’t go by myself right now.
I’m currently fat. Not chubby…FAT in all caps. I’ve gained 40 pounds since I went on antidepressants two years ago. Talk about depressing! Oh, the irony. I have cute clothes in my closet that I can no longer wear. The fatter I get, the more I can’t stand myself, the more I just want to lay around and be alone, and the more I eat. So, here we are. I fully expect the scale to start moaning the next time I step on it. I wouldn’t blame it.
I am anxious about going to Maine. I am anxious about bringing 3 nutty dogs into my parents’ calm and orderly existence. I am anxious about our family eating them out of house and home. I am anxious about how my son will act and what he’ll say. I am anxious about what family who hasn’t seen us in a while are going to think. I’m anxious about the weather on the drive up. I’m anxious about leaving a kid behind. I am anxious about her driving up a few days later, due to work. I am anxious about school, too. I am anxious about the class holiday party on Friday. I am anxious about the kids’ getting their gifts made for their parents. I am anxious about an upcoming schedule change. I am anxious about upcoming testing. I am anxious about my recent honor and not representing my school well. I’m anxious that I can’t kick this anxiety to the curb and my favorite month is slipping by without my enjoying it fully. Here’s the kicker, which sums of what it’s like living with anxiety perfectly: I’m anxious that my anxiety (and poor eating habits) are going to give me a literal heart attack and kill me! Though heaven is going to be magnificent, I am not wanting to go there, yet. UGH!!!
I also feel guilty. I feel guilty for not reaching out to my far-flung friends more. I feel guilty for my pity party when I have a friend whose kid is battling brain cancer, a friend celebrating another Christmas without his teenage daughter who died in a car accident, and another going through a divorce. My kids are all healthy, more or less. My husband and I are a team and love each other dearly. The fact that he hasn’t run screaming for the hills yet means he will likely stick around. I feel guilty that I feel guilty because, let’s face it, no one asks for mental illness- and I work damn hard to not let it affect my life as much as possible. I also feel guilty that I’ve passed it onto my kids. My therapist asked me last time I was there if I blamed my parents that I am the way I am. Honestly, I do not. I had a very happy childhood that I wouldn’t trade for anything- and my brother came out normal (relatively speaking, of course…ha!). I feel we gave our kids a very happy childhood, as well- so why do I feel guilty about the issues they face? Because that’s how my brain rolls. Some days are better than others.
This is the time of year when I start to take stock and think about how I can do things better for my family, my friends, my class, and myself next year. I want to get out from under this boulder I’m currently under. I want to get healthy. I want to be able to do things I used to be able to do. I want to be a better wife and mother. I want to be a better friend. I want to be a better human being. I want to grow my relationship to God, who I feel is more than a little disappointed that I can’t seem to draw closer to Him. I want to find what makes ME happy. I’m just not sure how to accomplish all that. I have 34 hours in the car in the coming weeks to come up with a plan of some sort, which makes me anxious. I am also anxious that next year is an odd year. My grandmother, father-in-law, and dog all died in 2011. My grandmother and grandfather died in 2013. My other grandfather died in 2015. We survived 2017 with only a near mental breakdown (mine). I’m scared to see what 2019 brings. I’m not kidding; it’s like I hold my breath all year long when it’s an odd year. Another one of my lovely quirks.
Wow! This is a total downer. I’m sorry. I usually try to inject humor in my postings, but I’m just not feeling it. I’m tired. I would like to ask for your prayers. Hopefully, the trip north will solve what ails me, and I’ll start the new year refreshed and back in control of my two nemeses. I sincerely wish all that managed to get through this drivel a very merry Christmas and a most joyous new year!