myjourneyback.org

  On June 29, 2019, I boarded a plane that took me halfway around the world from my friends, family, and familiar routines (aka my comfort zone) – and I didn’t return until the wee hours of July 17th. It was a long- and at times arduous- journey (this line sounds like something out of a novel, sorry- but it’s true) and there were days I really had to force myself out of bed and slap a smile on my face.  However, I don’t feel I am overstating things when I say it was a life changing experience for me.  I saw and did things that I’ve only read (or dreamed) about.   I was committed to the full experience…namely because I had no choice given the fact that my return ticket was pretty much set in stone. 💁‍♀️  Left to my own devices, I probably would have flown home after a week- and missed some pretty amazing adventures.  In the vein of David Letterman, here are the top 10 things I learned that will change how I move forward.

1. I am stronger than I ever imagined and can, indeed, handle things on my own.  I mean, I made it through Chinese security at the airport!  That’s a rather intimidating process for someone who suffers from both generalized and social  anxiety disorders!  Seriously, though, there were little things that happened along the way that would normally cause me to turn inward and away from others (or throw up in my mouth while trying not to hyperventilate), but I stood tall and managed by myself with barely a hiccup.  For example, I accidentally took a service elevator up to the 18th floor of the first hotel we stayed at on our very first night there.  I stepped out into a creepy stairwell and realized- as the door to the elevator closed behind me- that I didn’t have a key to access my floor.  For most people, this is no big deal; for me, it means hyperventilating and feeling like I’m going to vomit on a typical day.  On that day, I turned to the elevator, pushed the down button 487 times, and prayed that I wouldn’t get mugged as I waited for it to come back up while gulping deep breaths.  I then endured curious looks from the service people on the ride down.  They were whispering to each other- likely about the crazy American- as I stood with my face turning 10 different shades of red, waving, and breathing deeply while waiting to arrive back on the first floor- where I promptly ran to the lobby and boarded the normal elevator.  I chuckled to myself on the ride up because, well,  leave it to me- BUT also because I handled it without a full fledged panic attack.  I could feel it starting, but was able to breathe myself through it, where I might have instead held it in long enough to get to a room, close the door, and then break down into hysterics.  I even joked about it with my roommate when I finally arrived at her door.  To her credit, she was starting to get worried that I somehow got lost.  (She would soon learn that that would not be an unlikely occurrence on this trip because my sense of direction ranks right up there with my cooking skills…but I digress).  As I have fought to get my mental health back on the upswing, I have struggled to believe in myself in any capacity.  I often would not go anywhere without my husband or a friend- even to places I’m familiar with.  I have, more recently, often stepped out of the comfort zone to try different things that I knew would help me- advocating for my needs and trying to be the real me (no masks) around those I’m comfortable with- and I’ve been mostly successful.  However, my comfort zone was always close by, and I would often retreat to it at the first sign of feeling overwhelmed.  Also my tribe understands me and my struggles, so it’s easier to let it all hang out, if you will.  I mean, they haven’t run away, yet.  On this trip, though, I was often surrounded by people I didn’t know well 24/7 and my comfort zone was half a world away.  I had to learn to cope in other ways, lest my traveling companions all think I was a lunatic!  To do this, I would lie down with my eyes closed to decompress and process stuff, take short walks by myself to blow off steam, pray, and just breathe.  Lo and behold, it worked! Not only was I able to keep it together, I enjoyed myself, for the most part.  I really didn’t know I had it in me!  All these strategies I’ve been reading about and learning in therapy really do work!  Who knew?  I am woman.  Hear me roar!

2. Real living occurs when you step outside your comfort zone. Never, in a million years, would I have thought I would stick my feet into a tank of live fish so they could nibble off the dead skin- but I did it. On a side note, did you ever to stop to think about the people who came up with these kinds of ideas?  Not sure if I’d call them brilliant or crazy!  🤔. Anyway, not only did I do it, but once I relaxed and could see they weren’t doing any harm, I enjoyed it!  My roommate, who was also one of my teammates in school, really didn’t think I’d do it.    I also put on waders, waded through a mucky pond, and caught a fish with my bare hands. Granted, it was dead, which made the catching easier, but I held that sucker in my hands long enough for a picture (Don’t be fooled- I was screaming on the inside).  I danced- up on stage- four or five times while on the trip!  I don’t dance (for good reason, ask those with me who can attest), but I did it for the kids- and I had a blast!  Hell, I went on a trip to China for 19 days against my better judgement, but I cannot possibly be more grateful for the experience! I am ready to LIVE more outside that comfort zone!!  I have regained my sense of adventure because that’s where all the fun is!  If I chicken out of anything, you are all welcome to remind me of this!

3.  Let yourself be vulnerable-really, it will be ok!  Actually, it’ll be wonderful!   I still worry about being enough (of anything), but I have come to realize that I am far from alone in this.  By sharing my struggles through this blog, I’ve come to find that women I’ve long admired for their strength and confidence are really just very good actresses.  We are all struggling to hide our struggles.  It’s exhausting!  I’ve often talked about the masks I wear in order to be accepted by people- different masks for different groups/people- and how it is so emotionally draining.  In fact, I lost my real self somewhere along the way (who knew I’d find her in a country half way around the world?!?) .  What if we all stopped acting and felt free to share our true selves?  I think most people are kind, supportive, and loving at heart; we all just get so caught up in society’s message to always be successful- or at least act like you are.   On this trip, I had too much other stuff going on in my head to put on my usual masks.  I just had to be me or I probably would have lost my s&$t- and you know what?  It was ok!  I found a group of women who totally got me and who had my back.  I am so immensely grateful and hopeful that we will stay in touch.  We had a lot of laughs.  Did I connect with everyone?  No.  There were a handful of people who made be uncomfortable- probably because of the dialogue that runs through my head about being judged or maybe because they were putting on a mask- but I just rolled with it. Not everyone is your peep-and that is totally normal.   Just be you and love on the ones who love you back!  Those are your tribe!  Be vulnerable and help others to remove their masks.  I’ve made friends on this trip that I’d never have made without opening myself up- and my world is a brighter place because of them.  It is hard at first because that voice in your head can be unrelenting, but it’s so worth the risk.  Be your beautiful self!  God made only one of you for a reason and the only way you can follow the path He set for you is if you are true to the person He created!

4.  Getting off social media is a beautiful thing!  The internet was spotty, at best, over there.  When I could get on, I quickly uploaded pictures to FB so I’d have room for more on my phone and to talk to my family.  I didn’t really have time to scroll or check the news.  Instead, I was kept busy teaching,  socializing, exploring the area, trying not to get lost on the metro, and taking culture classes- and that was way more fun!  Don’t get me wrong, I love to keep up with everyone on FB, but I would also often mindlessly scroll.  I LOVED all the culture classes and learning new skills- even though I stunk at most of them (clay 💩 emoji, anyone?).  It was the process that I enjoyed.  It is actually quite relaxing to work with clay, make prints, etc.   Therefore, I’m going to start crafting more- whether it’s Chinese cultural crafting or trying some of the gazillion ideas I’ve pinned on Pinterest.  I vow to be less passive and more active.  Im thinking of trying yoga next week.  That ought t be interesting!  🤣

5.  This world is an amazing place- go and explore it!  I love to people watch; it is just interesting to me to see people go about their day and how they interact with others and the world around them.  We have many DLI teachers from South America in our school district, and a number of them were on the trip with me.  After watching and listening, I am struck by the beauty they see all around them.  Not just one person, but all the people I was watching (not in a creepy, stalker kind of way, but in a “how do they have such joy de vive” kind of way).  It must be a cultural thing.  They all just soak life in and enjoy it without any expectation.  They are very present in the moment- and dang, they are all amazing dancers!  I want to be more like that.  One of them once told me to stop looking at everything in black or white; enjoy the many colors all around you!   Words of wisdom right there!  I saw it in action on our trip.  The Chinese people I interacted with were, for the most part, very gracious and accepting of our being there.   They seemed to interact with each other more, rather than just going about their business.  My take away?  I need to be more present in each moment and be more active in the world around me.

6.  To build on number five, this trip has caused me to take a good, hard look at my own culture.  Let’s start with what the heck is it?  What traditions/crafts/beliefs were handed down for generations that stopped somewhere along the way- or I was just too stubborn to listen to as a kid?  I wish my grandparents were alive so I could ask them.  Are these family traditions or cultural traditions or both?  How can we bring some of those back?  What traditions do we have as a country that we would share with people visiting from another country?  Since we were founded by immigrants, there are different things that are valued by different parts of the country.  Wouldn’t it be fun to explore that?  I’ve learned to love sweet tea down here in the south, as well as some phrases that crack me up (for example, the phrase “Oh bless” is often used when you’ve done something dumb).  I just think life in America used to be a wholly different and beautiful thing before we became so attached to technology and money.  Am I the only one who thinks about these things?  In my defense, it was a long trip back from China and I had lots of time to think!  I know I am looking at China with rose colored glasses, but that was the side we were shown- and I loved it!  I’m not sure I love where our country is at now, but perhaps I haven’t been looking for the beauty of it!  That’s something I hope to explore further.

7.  As I mentioned in a FB post earlier, I have learned a whole new appreciation for the rights I am given as an American citizen.  I can express my opinions freely (though polite discourse is sometimes lost), listen to the news freely, explore social media freely, have dependable internet, change my phone number without formally registering it through the government, travel around this country without having to carry my passport, and the list goes on.  My children are guaranteed the right to an education- and they don’t have to register through the government and carry a card proving they are citizens.  I understand the language and am understood here.  I can find my own church as a citizen and have my own beliefs according to the government (though I know some of my most cherished friends, also American citizens, don’t feel comfortable expressing that right- but that’s another discussion).  Did you know that our group had a government worker assigned to monitor us as we toured China until we were turned over to the school that we taught at (we were then their responsibility)?  That is scary to me.  I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath to a degree until we arrived back on American soil.  Only then did I really feel unconditionally safe. Wow!

8.  This body is not made for jet lag of those proportions.  Twelve hours is flipping your whole day and night around- and that is a hard thing to overcome- especially on the way back, which I don’t quite understand.

9.  Not all police officers are created equal.  I walked into a police department and used my good ol’ Google Translate to explain that my dad is a retired police officer and he collects patches- did they have one I could have or buy?  The answer was a curt shake of the head and a no- so we left.  Only then, we decided to walk back in and ask if I could have a selfie with them and the police logo.  No, no, they don’t do that.  No smiles or anything.  We went out a second time…and decided not to go back in.  Though I did get a quick selfie earlier with another police officer at a park…only I didn’t ask and I was there and gone before he knew what hit him.  Not sure if this is ripped from the page of a book entitled, “ How to End Up in a Chinese Prison”, but I didn’t stick around to find out.

10.  Squatty potties are not for me because I do not have that kind of flexibility or thigh power.  Nor am I rich enough to replace the shoes I’d have to throw away due to the sticky floor and the splash factor.  The first thing I did when I got home were to throw my shoes into the washing machines because  🤢.

My trip to China was the experience of a life time!  There were so many amazing people and things to see!  It makes me want to start traveling more and gave me a can-do spirit.  In fact, I have not felt this strong and empowered in a long time!  My advice to end is that it is ok to slow down and take the time to smell the roses; your responsibilities will still be there when you’re done- and they’ll seem more palatable.  Seize the day…and make sure to take God along as the copilot!   ❤

 

I’ve started this entry a million times in my head over the past two months…and then about ten times as I’ve sat down to actually write it.  How do I put down all that is always swirling around in my head?  How much do I write for myself and how much for others?  How much do I say?  How much do I leave out?  One thing I have told myself since I hit rock bottom two years ago was that I was done pretending to be something I am not.  I am done hiding.  While that is not always the case in my day to day living (still working on that) , I am going to keep that promise to myself in my blog.  After all, I started it for me.  I started it to sort out my thoughts.  I decided to share it because I really hope that my journey can help others.  There is such a stigma around mental illness, yet so many people struggle.  I think there need to be more conversations, more authenticity, more connection.

Depression and anxiety mean different things to different people.  They both ebb and flow- but never really go away for those who are afflicted.   No matter how much therapy you do or how many pills you throw at them, they are always there to some degree.  Some days, weeks, months are better than others.  Always, they are an undercurrent in your day to day life; you just keep fighting the good fight.  I don’t think that those who don’t suffer from one (or both, as is my case) can really understand that.  I think those lucky enough to have wonderful mental health just think we need to see the therapist more, take more meds, get over ourselves.  Trust me when I say that I  wish it were that easy.  When this whole journey started (or, really, came to a head), I thought it would be that easy.  I thought I would follow all the rules (cause that’s what I do), educate myself, and do what my doctor said and all would return to “normal”- society’s idea of normal.

For me, these days, depression looks like apathy.  I don’t get overly excited about anything.  I don’t feel things like I used to.  I’m not happy, but I’m not really sad.   It’s like the world is gray.  I don’t connect like I used to.  I don’t reach out to friends or even my family.  Really, I just want to be left alone.   I want to escape- and escape for me comes in the form of reading or naps.  I am constantly tired, but can’t seem to sleep soundly or get enough of it-ever.  I hate the way I look, but am not up for doing anything to change it.   I just am here, moving through life because that is what I need to do.    That is what I am expected to do.  I’m currently in a valley with things, and that will happen.  It is what it is.  The problem is that I can’t remember not feeling like this.  I think the apathy is what ebbs and flows- not the depression.  Currently, the flow is strong.

Anxiety for me these days looks like it always does- worrying about what the world thinks of me and how I am impacting it (either negatively or positively).  It makes me want to come home at the end of the work day and just hide so I can take off my mask and just be.  Anxiety for me is worrying that I’m not meeting everyone’s needs.  That I am not doing my job to the best of my abilities and always looking to do more so I can prove my worthiness.  Anxiety is worrying about change.  The school year is coming to an end, which means summer arrives soon.  What will I do with my son so that he doesn’t sit around and marinate in his own anxiety and depression (and OCD, which is an added weight around his neck)?  What will I do to not be a dismal failure when I teach in China?  I am changing grade levels next year (not by choice).  What do I need to do to prepare for that?  How can I get a head start on learning all that is going to be new so that I don’t feel so overwhelmed in August?  How can I balance that with my need to take a break from work and focus on my family and me?  How can I get outside of my own head so that I can enjoy my family and friends and not be a burden?  And then….as I worry about these things….I grab a book or take a nap and just escape for the time being because I don’t have the answers to all these worries- and I am exhausted trying to find them- but I feel like they are coming.

I often wonder when this all started- this being my tangle with anxiety and depression.  The thing is, I have no idea.  I’ve always been anxious.  I have worried since I was a child about things that most people- especially children-don’t give 2 thoughts to.  When I had kids, the worries seemed to skyrocket.  How can I keep them safe in this dangerous world and help them to grow up to be good and happy people?  I have always second guessed myself.  I have always cared what people think and tried to be, as I mentioned in my last blog, who they all wanted me to be.  I have struggled with my weight my whole life.  I remember as a child, when I (looking back at pictures) was as thin as a rail and a family member called me bubble butt.  I laughed it off, but I remember.  In my yearbook senior year, someone took it to sign it.  When it was returned, it had the word cow written with an arrow pointing to me that someone had written and tried to erase.  I was a 3 sport athlete, so I didn’t think I was anyone’s definition of fat, but I took that to heart.  When I was pregnant with my first child, everyone marveled at how much weight I gained- even my doctor.  Another hole in my bucket of self-worth.  Over the years, I’ve gotten skinny and then fat- and everything in between.  It’s been a vicious cycle.  I look at skinny people and wonder why I can’t control myself when it comes to food.  I listen to people talk about their healthy eating and want to scream because it is not that easy for me.   It’s always going to be a struggle.  I’m never going to be society’s idea of perfect.  I have scoliosis, am missing my big toe nails, have bags under my eyes that I could hold my luggage for China in , and am told almost weekly in one manner or another that I have resting bitch face.  It is what it is.  See, apathy is not always bad.  Ha!

Perfectionism in our society is seen as a great thing.  It has always been what has propelled me forward in life.  My family was not going to be disappointed in me!   No sir!  As an adult, I don’t want to disappoint the people depending on me, so I constantly seek to improve…but to what end?  Let me tell you something.  This year, I was the teacher of the year for my school and moved onto district level competition.   That involved all kinds of anxiety inducing things, but I pushed my feelings aside and gave it my all.  I made it to the top ten out of 2,500 teachers.  That is like being in the top .03 % of teachers here- pretty awesome, huh?  But I didn’t win…and that is all that I could focus on.  I failed.  I was not perfect because the perfect teacher won.  I let people down.  I was embarrassed to go to school the next day.  I just let it all fall away like it never happened.  Society pushes this idea of perfection being the golden standard, being number one, but I think it is leading us down the wrong path.  We push our children to be perfect in the eyes of society.  They should all behave in a certain way, learn in a certain way, participate in this sport and that club to boost their resume, take the hardest classes, and build that resume with straight A’s, community service, and church attendance.  We should all strive to do our best in our jobs so we can be the best.  We should be the best daughter, son, spouse, friend, etc. because our society teaches us that only the best are worthy.  Only the best succeed.  Only the best become wealthy and powerful- and the wealthy and powerful are the ones who will change the world (for good or bad).   People all feel that pressure, whether they admit it or not.  We all curate our social media to put our best face forward.   We think about what we’ll say and how we’ll say it so we come across in the way that we think society wants us to come across.  If someone struggles with an addiction or job loss or poverty or a chronic illness or whatever, society sees them as weak.   I’m here to say that society is WRONG!  The incidences of depression, anxiety, and suicide are skyrocketing.  Parents tell their kids to follow their dreams and do what they love…but what they are really saying is be successful by society’s standards.  At some point, we have to step back, take a good hard look, and do something about it.  I cannot seem to cut myself any slack, but I am actively working to give that to my children.  My son doesn’t want to go to college; he wants to be a firefighter.  This is not the vision I had for him, propelled by society’s expectations, so it has been a hard pill to swallow- but you know what?  He won’t be saddled with thousands of dollars in school debt, he’ll be helping people, and he will be happy.  What more can I ask for?  My oldest gave up the career that she has a master’s degree in because she wasn’t happy and hopes to be a police officer like her grandfather and uncle.  Am I happy with this decision?  No.  I am scared for her safety and for her future  because she IS saddled with student debt….and we all know police officers are not paid their worth.  However, I am trying to be happy with the fact that she is happy.   My middle child is following the path we had envisioned for her, but I’m not sure she is particularly happy.  Perfection, you see, is unattainable.  You’ll never have the perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect spouse (though mine is literally a saint in the making), the perfect body- it’s just not possible.  Yet, that is the message from society.   Kate Fagan, in her book What Made Maddy Run, asked a very important question:  How much of our happiness is fueled by society’s validation of our choices?  I need to stop seeking validation; I just haven’t figured out how.

These days, I feel like I am just going through the motions when I have to and looking for my escape when I don’t.  Thankfully, I can compartmentalize so when I am at work, I can focus on the babies in front of me and do the best I can by them.  When they leave, though, everything comes crashing back in.  I close my door and listen as my colleagues joke around and gab.  I don’t have it in me to join.  I attend staff meetings on how to make ourselves better and leave feeling like I will never be good enough.  I attend to emails that ask more of me, as if I am not already giving all that I have.   By the end of the day, I have nothing left to give- not to myself and not to my family- and that leaves me feeling like a failure.

My husband wants to go hiking tomorrow.  It is insanely hot (like the depths of hell hot), but he assures me it will be cooler in the mountains. (probably like the rim of hell, but I digress).    I don’t really care to go.  I’d rather sit at home and read.  However, in doing so, I pull farther and farther away from the very people that I love and who keep me sane.  That’s my depression speaking, so I will make myself go and make myself have a good time- but it would be nice if it could just genuinely happen.

Where is God in all this?  Honestly, I think He is nudging me to share my story more- the good, the bad, and the ugly.  I think He is clarifying things in my head and helping me to see that it’s not all on me.  Society must share some of the blame.  I am feeling pushed to share the message with teens especially that life is too short to try to fit society’s idea of success.  You get one shot at this.  Truly do what makes you happy and positively impacts this world.  Help others.  Don’t make yourself miserable trying to meet some unattainable standard.  Be you.  God made you just the way He wanted you to be.   You have a purpose; lean into it.  I really think my purpose in life is to help people to meet their potential.  I work to do that in my job every day, but I think God is calling me to do more now.   I’m trying to figure out how.  Society is just now starting to  take mental health seriously, but there is still a serious stigma.  I want people to know that there is NOTHING wrong with asking for and receiving help.  It doesn’t make you weak; it makes you strong.  Suffering from mental illness doesn’t make you weak; in fact, I think we are some of the strongest people out there because we fight battles daily that most people know nothing about.  I know, you are all probably thinking that I need to listen to my message myself.  The thing is, I do.  I do feel better in my own skin.  I am happy with the person I am.  I may not be some people’s idea of good enough (and that is where I struggle, still), but I think I am making a positive impact in the world around me.  Let me tell you something that happened a couple of weeks ago.  A friend from high school that I haven’t talked to since then reconnected with me on Facebook.  She said to me, “You know, the one thing that I remember about you is that you were always nice to everyone.”  That made me cry….seriously.  THAT is what is important in life- that you are are kind and helpful to everyone, regardless of any qualifying measure.  I do that.   I extend kindness and empathy to everyone- and that alone makes me worthy.  I don’t have all the answers and I will struggle until the day I die, probably-  but that is ok because I am going to be alright, and I hope to help others be, as well.

Things have settled down a bit inside my head, so I’ve been able to compartmentalize my anxiety for the most part.  Are there days I still struggle to get out of bed?  Yes- but they are fewer and far between.  So, yay!  That’s good news!   Ryan is still doing well and the girls both seem happy.  Life is good- but the struggle, as always, is real.

I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching of late.  I told my therapist that I think I’m having an existential crisis…again.  Really, I don’t think I ever resolved the first one, so let’s just call this a continuation.  I’ve been reading a lot (which I do anyway- but especially when trying to figure something out) and relying on my faith to try to get a handle on why I’m becoming a recluse and why I can’t ever get to the place where I don’t give two flips about what others think of me.  God loves me and made me just the way I am- so why can’t I love myself?  I know I’m not a bad person.  In fact, I love being by myself.   I can just be me- whoever that is.  I don’t have to try to please anyone.  I’m pretty sure I would be perfectly happy living on a deserted island with the occasional visitor- as long as said island had no snakes or other creepy crawlers and lots of garden space.  After lots of reflection, I’ve come up with three main reasons; here they are.

Reason#1:  I’m always trying to be what I think others want or expect me to be- and I need validation that I’m doing it right by everyone.  I just realized the other day in a conversation with someone why this is.  I’m always listening to what people say about others and taking mental notes not to exhibit that trait around this person.  For example, in my conversation, someone was telling me the other day that so-and-so is always asking questions about their personal life.  To me, that seems like a caring friend.  To this person, they were being nosy- so I made a mental note to not ask too many questions about this person’s personal life.  I overheard in a meeting last week, “so and so always thinks they have all the answers.”  Mental note:  Act like you don’t know something- even if you do- with those people.  I once had someone tell me that they were disgusted by the cleanliness of another friend’s house- so now I make sure my house is spotless whenever they come.    You get the idea.    I’m always listening and taking mental notes so I can be the person everyone wants people to be…though it’s never the same person…so that’s a little tricky.  No wonder I’m always tired.  I think that’s why I so love working with young children- they are honest in their assessment of you and don’t hide it.  I had a child tell me last week that my hair was looking “kind of grayish- but it still looks good.”  🤣   They make me laugh daily.

Reason #2:  I am fat.  I’m not saying fat is bad by any means because if you’re happy in your skin, then I’m happy for you.   I am desperately unhappy in my skin.  Nothing fits right.  I’d probably keel over if I attempted a 5k.  I always look like a stuffed sausage.   Even when I think I look decent, I see pictures of myself- or a video (my absolute favorite- ha!) and think to myself that I’m never leaving the house again!  Of course I have to, so I do…but some days the struggle is REAL, people!  Also, I’ve decided, after seeing video and pictures, that short hair is not for me- I have a flat spot on my head and cowlicks everywhere!  But…that’s another conversation.  Anyway, it’s been two years since I went on antidepressants.  The first year, I maintained my weight fairly well because I was exercising and it was a very low dose- just enough to keep me from rolling every conversation through my head over and over to make sure I didn’t say or do something stupid.  A year ago this month, I tore a ligament in my ankle and couldn’t exercise for two months. A full pity party ensued.  I have always turned to food to deal with my emotions.  When you do that and don’t exercise, you start to feel like garbage- and then you start spending more and more time on the couch.  My physician recommended doubling my dose last summer because the dark days were becoming more frequent and my anxiety was through the roof!  Long story short…I’ve gained 40 pounds.  I’m heavier than I’ve ever been in my whole life.  Talk about depressing!  Oh, the irony!  It’s not lost on me!  I’m so frustrated with myself because I can’t kick myself into gear to start exercising.  I am just wanting to sit on the couch and lose myself in sleep, a book, or Pinterest.  I have no will power when it comes to sweets, so I’ve decided to give them up for Lent- again.  Relating my need for sweets to Jesus’s sacrifice is pathetic, I know, but it makes me able to avoid them.  It’s not easy, but I would NEVER slip up on that!  Anyway, I would like to think weight isn’t an issue with anyone because it’s not anyone’s body but your own- but people can be so mean!  I think this is the biggest reason why I don’t want to leave the house by myself to go anywhere but work.

Reason #3:  My job as a full time mom is winding down.  I’ve been a mom since I was 19.  Almost 27 years later, my youngest is a sophomore in high school.  If you’ve ever lived with a teenager, you know that they think you know nothing and are put on this earth simply to nag them.  That would, of course, be inaccurate…but try telling them that!  Anyway, I digress.  I am not sure what to do with myself with this newfound freedom.  I’ve always been the helicopter parent (which is bad…don’t do that…see previous posts) whose whole life revolves around her children and family.  Now the children are off doing their own things.  I should be excited- and I’ll probably get there at some point, but right now it scares me!

So,  where does this leave me?  Well, a lot of what I’ve been reading says, to paraphrase, to just be yourself and those who you need around you will stay; the others will go, but they weren’t true friends anyway.  Listen to God, follow his teachings, and life will all work out.  Sounds simple enough- people do it every day!  It scares the bejeebies out of me!   Sometimes being me inadvertently hurts others, which I did with a colleague a month or so ago when I let my anxiety cloud my thinking. I owned it eventually, but I still feel like garbage about it.   Anyway,  is my true self who I am when I’m by myself without a care in the world?  When I can sing off-tune, read to my little heart’s content, when I dream of saving the world- one dog and one kid at a time?   When I eat noodles with butter and milk for dinner because I’m just in the mood?  When my hair is standing on end, I have no make up on, and wearing leggings with a t-shirt trying to do a headstand in my bedroom?  (That didn’t end well for one of our dogs- but maybe if I tried it on the flat spot on my head…). I’m really not the serious stick in the mud people think I am- though my anxiety makes me come across that way, I know.    As for my faith,  I’m always second guessing myself when it comes to hearing God.  Is that really Him or my own voice?  Also, the book group I’ve been doing at church and a guest speaker I went to see makes it seem that it’s a choice I’m making.  Mental illness is the direct result of chemical imbalances in your body.  None of it is my fault!  I did not choose anxiety and depression; they chose me.  So, I’ve backed up a bit and decided to do things on my own terms.  I will turn to God more and lay my problems at His feet.  I’ve decided that by doing that and listening to His word and doing a better job trying to follow it, I can get His help- but not blame myself for the days I struggle.  I’ve also started to dabble in essential oils and want to start eating cleaner.  I need more time to figure all this out, but I’m hoping I can cut my medicine in half by the end of this year.  Also, I’ve been seeing my therapist regularly.  Overall, I’d say I’m in a good place.  I still have some things I’m working on, but I have a direction and a plan.  After all, we are all works in progress.

As always, I share my thoughts to help me sort things out in my head (where it’s like an 8 lane highway in both directions during rush hour- all…the…time) and also to help others.  My biggest take away this time is to be yourself and let the cards fall as they may.- within reason, of course.  I mean, if you’re an axe murderer, don’t be yourself; be a monk, instead!   Seriously, know that there will always be struggles, but God will always have your back, as will your real friends- the ones who truly care about you.  Blessings as we usher in spring…I hope!

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!

 

When I get especially stressed out, I get something called PVC’s where my heart beat speeds up and gets into a funky rhythm.  I feel this weird sort of pressure in my chest, like a butterfly is fluttering around in there- and a strange sensation kind of makes me light-headed for a second or two.  These incidents usually last for less than a minute and then they pass.  When it first happened, I thought I was having a heart attack and spent a night in the ER hooked up to all kinds of machines.  It was interesting to see the spikes and be able to tell the nurse they were coming just before they showed up on the monitor.  At least I knew it wasn’t all in my head!  After wearing a heart monitor for 24 hours and visiting a cardiologist, it was determined that they were nothing to worry about.  Apparently many people get them at times, but not everyone notices.  I was told I am overly sensitive to them.  Over sensitive- story of my life.  Anyway, I have been having them more and more regularly, which tells me that I need this storm I find myself in to pass; I’m getting tired! Last night, it all just hit me- hard.  I wanted to throw up- and I felt that way again this morning.  So, here I am- laying it all out so I can process this mess before my heart bursts- or I hurl the contents of my breakfast and lunch; either one of which would be bad.   :/

Ryan has his good days and his bad.  Over the past month, there have been more good days than bad, so we thought maybe the medication switch (which we did a month ago) was finally kicking in.  However, this weekend, he has been down in the dumps- again.  He won’t listen to reason and rarely leaves his room.  I know there are going to be ups and downs- boy, do I know that- but it is hard to watch someone you love with every beat of your heart to suffer them, as well.  We don’t dare to leave him alone right now- or send him on the school bus.  As a result, Mark and I have shifted our schedules around to accommodate taking him to and from school.  Thankfully, our oldest has moved back from Florida, so she can help with things right now- but still; it’s stressful!  I check my phone throughout the day, hoping there is no call from his school or text from him asking me to come and get him because he’s having a panic attack that he just can’t get under control.  We are holding our breath that the new meds are still building up and trying to regulate the moods.  Until then, we watch, wait, and pray.

As you can imagine, this has added a whole new level of stress to our house.  In fact, in church today, the pastor was talking about how the bible doesn’t really tell us what heaven or hell looks like- and my husband whispered to me, “He should come to our house to see what hell looks like.”  I could only nod because it seems accurate.  I feel like you can cut the tension with a knife.  We all walk on eggshells.  Mark and I aren’t necessarily in agreement with how to handle things with Ryan- because we really have no idea!  We also pretend that all is fine in front of the kids, which is exhausting in and of itself.  I told him today that I would prefer to be at work than at home these days.

I feel like two different people.  At school, I am happy and having fun.  I enjoy talking with colleagues and meeting the needs of my students.  I try not to judge anyone and to accept everyone where they are at.  Everyone is fighting their own battles; I don’t want to add to them.  At home, though, I definitely become more quiet and withdrawn.  I have time to slow down and think about things.    I think about how we got to this place.  I think about what I have done wrong.  I think about the fact that I am fat and unhappy with how I look and feel- yet have not done anything about it.  Then I think that my always thinking this way is probably what gave two of my three kids issues with food.  Then I feel guilty for taking this time for myself because I am pulling away from my family- but my family is currently driving me nuts.  And around and around it goes.  Last night ended in tears.  Tears of sadness that I can’t reach my son; he used to be my little buddy, and now he looks at me like he would look at gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.  Tears of guilt- I have not doubt that I am to blame for many of his issues.  Tears of loneliness.  Tears of frustration- with myself, my son, my husband, God.

In church today, the pastor was saying that if you don’t trust in God then you don’t believe he is righteous.  How can He always be right, yet we don’t put our full trust in Him?  Are we calling Him a liar?  I am trying really, really, really hard to trust Him.  To trust that we are going through this storm for a reason and good will come of it.  To trust that we will come out of this stronger people and a stronger family.  Sometimes, it is hard to trust Him, though.  An area senior in high school died this morning after suffering a cardiac arrest during a cross country meet yesterday.  How does good come from that??  Cancer strikes young children and takes them from their families before they even start school.  Again, what good comes from that??  People are being kidnapped and/or murdered on a regular basis.  Where is the good??  Depression and anxiety cause children to kill themselves at ever increasing rates.  How can any good come from that??  I’m not calling God a liar.  I do believe He is righteous and we are not meant to understand things right now- but we will when we are called home.  My head knows this; my heart wants to.  Then I feel guilty for not trusting Him completely.  *Sigh*

I know what I need to do.  I need to be positive with Ryan and stop nagging or asking questions.  I need to work out and eat well.  I need to spend more time in God’s word.  I need to connect with my family more.  I need to connect with people in general more.  I need to trust that all this is for a reason, things will get better, and we will all come out of this stronger in the end.  But then, there is that little voice that quietly asks, “but what if things don’t get better- and what if we can’t stay strong long enough to see the end?”  What then?

There are times I really wish we had not left Maine.  Maybe Ryan would have been ok going to the middle school with his bullies- because he would also have had his friends.  Maybe it wasn’t about being good enough; it was about being present and enjoying those around me without fear of being judged.  Maybe I should have looked for another job in the area.  But here is the thing.  I love the school I work at now.  I love the people and the atmosphere.  I love not having to deal with snow for months on end.  I love having the ability to go and do just about anything without traveling for hours or having to buy plane tickets.  I love our church.   I love seeing Mark’s side of the family more and feeling like we actually know them, know them- not just know of them.  I miss my people, though.  I miss my family and childhood friends who know about all my ugliness and still stick around.  I miss apple picking on a crisp fall day.  I miss snowfall on Christmas morning.  I miss summers where you don’t sweat going to the mailbox.  I miss crisp runs on a fall afternoon.  I miss home- but I’d miss our lives here if we moved away.  Maybe I can just invent a time machine, go back about 15 years, and push pause.  Life was much simpler then- and much more enjoyable… and I wouldn’t know what I would be missing from NC.  We were called to come down here.  I don’t know why, but I know we were.  I guess I just need to be patient and work on that trust issue.  I get homesick every fall; I have no idea why- it just happens.  Can you tell?

I am having to really fight back at the voices in my head whenever I’m not at work.  I have a hard time being in the present because I keep digging into the past to figure out what I did wrong so I can right those things moving forward.  I also keep looking to the future to try and get an idea of how things will play out.  Home right now is full of trying to save Ryan from himself while also keeping my head above water with life happening all around.  You’d think 26 years into this parenting gig that I would know what I am doing, but teenage boys are a breed unlike anything I’ve ever dealt with before!  We try to gauge what is teenage boy stuff and what is the OCD/anxiety/depression stuff in our dealings with Ryan- and that is very hard to do!   I am dancing mightily in a monsoon and am getting nowhere fast.   Maybe, though, that is the point.  Maybe the lesson here is that the past is over and done.  The future is beyond my control.  Look at the present and try to find the joy in the present moment.  It’s there.  It has to be.  We all woke up this morning and were given another day.  Be present.  Enjoy this life and those in it.  Be the light for others.  Everyone is fighting a battle we know nothing about.  Give them grace- and save some for yourself!

*I know this is all over the place, but I feel better than when I started.  🙂  This always helps me to organize my thoughts and get things into perspective.    Though I write this mostly for myself, I share it in the hopes it helps others in some small way.

 

 

I’m a hot mess and so is my family.   How’s that for a start?  Since June 13th, I have been living in a nightmare of sorts.  Actually, it’s been going on for longer, but that’s when the summer from Hell officially kicked off.   This is going to come as a shock to some, if not most, but I think, in the end, there is a lesson for us all.   Let me back up and share my son’s story with you (with his permission, of course).  My son has been struggling with depression, anxiety, and OCD for a few months now (sound familar?).    He started on an SSRI (same one as me, higher dose)  to help with all 3 after the therapist visits alone weren’t doing the trick in November.    <Insert serious feelings of blame/shame here>  When school got out, his psychiatrist felt that he really should try Zoloft, as that has been proven to work better with the OCD, while still helping with the anxiety and depressive feelings.  Since it was summer and she’s the professional, we decided to give it a try.  BIGGEST MISTAKE EVER!!!  Literally, within two weeks time, my son was a shell of his former self, rarely leaving bed, shuffling like a 90 year old when he did, and feeling exhausted from trying to fight off the suicidal thoughts.  Let me just pause here to add my two cents.  I GET IT.  I get why Kate Spade, who had seemingly everything- including a family, killed herself.  Same with Anthony Bourdain and the countless others who have decided that life was just too difficult to keep going.  I GET IT.  Do you know why?  Because it is exhausting.  It is exhausting getting out of bed every day to face another day of pretending you are fine when you totally are not.  It is exhausting to face another day of wondering if people see through the facade and think you are totally nuts.  It is exhausting replaying conversations and interactions to check, recheck, and recheck again for the nuances you might have missed.  It is exhausting to know that you will have to get your sh*t  together so that you don’t take your family down into the rabbit hole with you because your moods affect others.  It is exhausting to push all your anxious, depressed, self-defeating thoughts aside so that you can do your job every day to the best of your abilities.   It is exhausting to always be trying to shake “this” and get back to your “normal” self.  It is just EXHAUSTING.  So, I get it.  They weren’t thinking it was selfish to do what they did; they probably thought they were doing others a favor, as well as themselves.  In the end, of course, it WAS selfish.  They are now at peace, but they’ve left behind families that are shattered.  That, to me, is selfish- and I feel like I can say that because I GET IT. So…back to my son.   His therapist met with him on June 27th for his regularly scheduled meeting.  I shared my concerns with her first that he definitely had gotten worse; he didn’t want to leave his bed.  She met with him and told me that he needed to see his psychiatrist ASAP and get off the Zoloft.  I called the psychiatrist, but couldn’t get in until the following day.  I was sent home on suicide watch- seriously, that is what they called it.  That was one of the most terrifying moments of my life.  Neither my husband nor I slept; we listened, watched, and prayed for the appointment to get here without incident.  The next day, we met with the psychiatrist and were directed to the ER, where our 14 year old son was admitted to the behavioral health ward, AKA the psych ward.

That was the worst day of my life, hands down- and I’ve had some pretty horrible times.   Shell-shocked doesn’t even begin to describe it.  My husband and I didn’t even talk on the ride home from the hospital (7 hours later).  We didn’t know what to say.  The question that kept popping into my head was, “How did we get here?”  We have two older kids.  One had issues with cutting in high school, but we thought that was because she came out as gay and was dealing with all that comes with that (not that this was a healthy way of dealing, but we got the why).  She also didn’t necessarily transition well, but is getting better.  She is now a very successful, very stable, very happy person.  The other has anxiety, but she also has Tourette’s Syndrome, and those go hand in hand.  She, too, is now very successful, stable, and happy.  So where did we go wrong?  As you know, when I am sucker punched with something like this, I start reading- a lot.  I read blogs.  I read articles online.  I read books.  I enter into a hole and read all I can about what is bothering me until I think I have answers.  My husband knows not to bother me; he also knows I will keep him up to date with my findings, should he want to hear them…and sometimes even if he doesn’t want to.   I read a lot about how genetics plays a HUGE role in mental illness.  OK.  I’ve learned, over time, that my family tree has more than a few nuts in the branches (me included- I don’t really think we’re nuts-or even crazy, but I am trying to keep a heavy topic light, so nuts it is!).   My husband’s family is the same way.  In fact, I am sure there are many of you out there with family members who struggle in some way (diagnosed or not).  Think of the family member who drives you crazy with some of their tendencies or fears (OCD or anxiety, anyone?)- or their moodiness.  Do you have family who struggle with substance abuse?  They are likely self-medicating.   Anyway…so my kids are genetically screwed in some regards- not all, just some.   OK.  I can’t control the genetics, so that part is totally not my doing.  Sometimes, when you go through a hormonal change (hello puberty and menopause), chemicals in your brain can get out of whack.  For most people, those imbalances are manageable, though not entirely pleasant (I’m on my third teenager…I KNOW THINGS); for others, for some reason, they go entirely off kilter and need professional help to get everything back in balance. OK…I was feeling better about things down in my rabbit hole of research.  Things were looking more and more like a bad hand, if you will- not something my husband or I did.  Then our son told us, on one visit to see him in the looney bin (his words, not ours- he tends to have the same type of self-deprecating sense of humor that I do), that we were always making decisions for him and running his life- and he needed us to back off a little.  Well…when your child is in the psych ward is when Mama Bear is on the prowl and advocating left and right, so this wasn’t a great time to tell me that, but he had a point.  Then, a doctor/therapist/social worker/psychiatrist (I lost track in the days he was in the hospital, as we were constantly talking to someone in the hopes of better helping our son) asked us if we thought we were helicopter parents.  I said that I was, for sure.  I even might have said it somewhat proudly (after all, my kids are my babies and I only want what is best for them, so I am constantly trying to point them in the right directions, especially if I see them about to make a choice that they’ll regret).  The professional told me that kids with helicopter parents tend to have a sense of worthlessness because they have never been allowed to make their own mistakes and suffer the consequences; they don’t trust themselves.  I listened, then went home and researched.  Sure enough, I screwed up my kid!  He is the baby, so I babied him.  He went to school at the school where I taught, so I went to bat for him over everything.  I was busy raising three kids, so I didn’t take the time to teach him to do the same chores I taught the girls; it was easier and faster to do it myself.  He got bullied; Mama Bear roared loud and proud.   If someone was kidnapped 5 states over- even it if was 15 years ago, my kids weren’t allowed out by themselves.  You get it, I was the poster child for helicopter parents.  I’ve always been a perfectionist, so I perfected that…to the detriment of my kids.   I know, I know…my family and friends have told me it is not my fault; it runs in the family, he has raging hormones, blah…blah…blah.  I cannot control some things, that is true.  I could control this, had I known.  I was a helicopter parent because I wanted my kids to be happy, well-adjusted, and safe- and not on the side of some milk carton (showing my age here).  Instead, my kid ended up in the psych ward.  Learn from this, people!!

So, once I established how he got there, I needed to do two things.  First, I needed to figure out how I could start turning the ship around and start giving my son more freedom and more independence while leading him (with the help of more professionals than I have close friends…I kid you not) back from the abyss.  Second, I needed to figure out how to not keep kicking myself for landing him there in the first place.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right?  Riiigghhhttt…..

1. We are getting there.  After a few days, our son was discharged from the hospital, completely off the Zoloft.  As it turns out, my father-in-law didn’t tolerate that, either- and for many of the same reasons; when I shared this with the hospital, he was weened off and that made a HUGE difference.  I am researching ways to help him, carting him to appts, and educating myself about the medications that might be helpful.  I am checking in, but not hovering or even directing.   I am reading, reading, reading about teen depression (sad fact…1 in 8 teens suffers from depression in some form or another).  We are monitoring his diet and making the necessary changes.  We felt helpless when he was admitted to the hospital, but we feel empowered now- and so does he (I think…I hope).

2. This has been a little harder.  I know that my parenting style is not only to blame for where we are.  Genetics, teen hormones, prior bullying (5  years in elementary school, one in high school adds up according to the many specialists we’ve talked to), and the transition to high school all played a part.  Did parenting?  Yup.  Is there anything we can do about the first 14 years?  Nope.  I could keep beating myself up (it was mostly me, not my husband), but even I know that won’t change a damn thing.  Do I have my moments?  Yup.  My husband can vouch for that.  But that isn’t going to help anyone, so I pull up my big girl panties and strut into the next appointment, knowing that I am doing all that I can for my kid,  just as I always have- though with my helicopter wings clipped.

So, our son is doing better!  I still have nights where I cannot sleep.  Some of that is just plain worry.   Other times, I will lay in bed with my mind going a million miles a minute.  That is the anxiety.  I almost laughed at myself last night, somewhere around 2am, because it’s like my anxiety has ADHD; I bounce from thought to thought to thought and can’t even be anxious about one freaking thing long enough to come up with possible solutions.  For example, I cannot, for the life of me, grow in my relationship to God.  I can’t.  I pray, I read the bible, I go to church, I follow biblical websites.  I even attended a 13 week small group.  Still, there is radio silence.  I don’t hear Him, I don’t feel Him, nada.  So, then I circle back to what the Hell is wrong with me?!?  Then my brain skips ahead to one of my kids and what I can do to help (if they ask…and only if I think they really need the help…I have clipped those wings- I promise).  Then it skips ahead to true friendships and why I have very few.  Then it skips ahead to money.  Insurance, while very helpful, is still leaving us with lots of medical bills.  Also, there are things our son needs that aren’t covered, so we are going to foot the bill.  Money will be tight.  Then our AC decided this would be a fine time to spring a leak and get some new, very expensive bling.  If my poor husband doesn’t have a coronary within the next year, I’ll be shocked.  Then I go back to how I can’t seem to shake the blues (no idea why- ha), but I think it is more than just all the stuff we are currently rolling through; I just can’t seem to find joy in things anymore- except for reading, and I am beginning to think that that might be an escape for me, something I’m using to ignore the world.  Another thought that pings around in my brain at 2am is that I wish I could see myself as others do… or maybe I shouldn’t wish that.  I really don’t know; that could be a scary thing.  But then I would know.  I value honestly above all else; I just want to know where I stand.  Or maybe I don’t.  Maybe how I view myself in the social arena is how others do- in which case, yeah….maybe you shouldn’t tell me!  LOL!  Those are the thoughts.  They are what they are.   Clearly, we have a lot on our plate and, clearly, I am still dealing with some stuff not related to all that we are currently going through, but I see growth!  I see growth because I really am trying to find solutions, if things would just slow down long enough for me to grasp them.

One more thing that pings around in there (apparently, I have lots of room up there) is Why?  Why me?  Why my son?  Why us?  I know, there are a lot of people going through things- some things that are absolutely devastating.  I read about a family that recently lost two young children in a house fire, with their third child burned over 70% of their body.  I have a friend whose child is fighting a horrible battle with brain cancer.  Here’s the thing, though.  Mental illness can also be both devastating and deadly.  My husband and I honestly thought we might lose our son.  He had a plan  and a weapon and was just waiting for a time.   There are people who function perfectly well with it.  I would say that I do, for the most part.  I am good at my job and can departmentalize things.  Do I wish I were happier?  Yes.  Do I think I will deal with this forever?  Yes.  Will it get better?  I don’t know.  This might be as good as it gets for me, and I can live with that.  Will it get worse?  Probably at times.  Will my son get better?  I sure hope so.  Will he deal with this forever?  Likely, in some form or other.  Could this alphabet soup of mental illness be terminal?  Sadly, Kate Spade showed us that it could.  So, I do sometimes have my pity party, but then life, thankfully, goes on.  I don’t know why God lets bad things happen to good people.  I have to trust He has a plan and it is all part of the plan.  Because I am a problem solver, I have to ask how my issues and my son’s issues could possibly be part of the plan.  How is suffering a good part of the plan?  Jesus suffered.  God suffered when he sacrificed Jesus.  He never promised no suffering; he promised comfort through the suffering.  My comfort is this:  He has a plan.  This is part of the plan.  Maybe He wants to me to share my/our story to take away the stigma of mental health.  It is an illness, just like diabetes or cancer or the flu.  That’s why I am sharing all this.  I don’t necessarily want you all up in my business, but if I can help others through this, it is worth it.  By sharing my son’s story, maybe I can shake some parents awake to what might be going on under their noses- and save a life.  I will tell you, looking back, my husband and I see lots of red flags that we missed- and I SUFFER FROM THE SAME ILLNESSES, YET I MISSED THEM IN MY KID!!!!!  Maybe that is not why we are going through all this.  Maybe He wants to bring me closer to Him or He wants to show me something else.  Guess what else I have learned this summer?  Sometimes, parents are really just doing the best that they can given their circumstances.  More times than I care to admit, I have vented to my husband about this parent or that parent and how if they would just look over their kids’ homework or read with them for five minutes or get them to school on time or whatever, the child would blah, blah, blah.  You know what, they are likely doing the best they can.  Those parents trying to come here from other countries are probably doing what they think is best for their kids.  Everyone is dealing with things that we don’t know about- EVERYONE.   This summer has caused me to reflect and see things in a different light.  Maybe that is why He has brought us to our knees ( and we are on our knees right now, trust me).  I don’t know.  It’s ok, though.   We will be persevere. We will trust the One who put us here.   We will have bumps in the road.  We will face things that test us in every way.  We will have successes and failures.  We will laugh and we will cry.  When I want to ask why, I will try to think why not?

When I started this post, I said that my family and I were a hot mess.  After writing (and clearing my head), I see that we are not.  We are human, and we are doing the best we can to live this life we have been given as gracefully, humbly, and productively as possible.  It is, for sure, a blessing- even if we are currently dancing in amongst the storm clouds.  This too, shall pass.

 

This has been a rough month, and I am pretty sure I’m losing my ever-loving mind.  I apologize, in advance, if this is all over the place; I really need to just get all the thoughts that are swirling around in my head under control- and the way I do that is through writing.  So, buckle up because here goes…

            Things I’ve Learned On My Journey This Past Month

Lesson 1:  Even if you are feeling fantastic, leaving you and your therapist with nothing to talk about, you still need to go…regularly.

I decided back in February that life was going swimmingly (and it was), so there was no need to visit my therapist.  It freed up time in my calendar (yay!) and left a space on her couch for someone who needed it more (that was my rationale, at least).  As it turns out, that was a bad idea!  Life has thrown some curve balls and I’ve been hit in the head one too many times. I finally called a couple of weeks ago to schedule an appointment, and she told me she was getting ready to have surgery and would be out for six weeks.  She gave me the name of a colleague, but I’m not really digging the idea of spilling my guts to yet another perfect stranger…so I am trying to handle this all on my own (that’s going so well, as you can see).    Because the therapist is not available, I’ve been keeping everything in.  My husband can only stand to hear about my woes so often before his head explodes, and my friends don’t need to be with someone who is all negative all the time….which leaves me having internal conversations between myself and mean girl (see below).  As you can imagine, that has not been going so well.  I’ll be the first person on my therapist’s schedule when she gets back!

Lesson 2:  Stop listening to the mean girl in your head and start listening to those around you.

I have done some things that have caused my self-esteem to once more hit the basement level.  The first thing I did was stop seeing the therapist- see above.  The next thing was to start comparing myself to everyone again.  I know this is wrong and sends me wanting to hide from the world, but it happened- and it is hard to take myself out of that particular tailspin on my own.  I have gained weight since tearing the ligament in my ankle in February/March- and the more I gain, the worse I feel, and the more I eat and stay in my house.  It’s a vicious cycle, really.   I also got a $19 hair cut recently, which, if you are a woman, is a HUGE no-no.  Seriously, I think my son could have done a better job with the weed whacker.   Anyway, roll all of this stuff together, and the mean girl gets the penthouse in my brain.  She is shouting things all day, every day- and I am listening.  Which, in turn, makes me want to stay home.  I  admire those people who don’t give a flip about what others think about them;  I SO want to be one of those people- I just can’t seem to get there.

Lesson 3:  The second you are cleared to work out again, do it because the longer you wait, the harder it will be.

I used to get up every morning at 4:15 four days a week to exercise.  I would then run with my husband on the weekend.  I did this because I am toast by the afternoon and want to get it out of the way.  When I hurt my ankle, I got out of that routine and got fat.  That made me less motivated to work-out.  I am holding out until summer vacation (a week from Wednesday) to start back up.  I feel like garbage mentally and physically- and I know working out will help.  It is just a matter of climbing back up on that horse- and I figure the easiest way to do that is to start at, oh, 8 in the morning when I eventually meander out of bed (rather than 4:15).

Lesson 4:  There is no thing as a budget haircut.

See above…enough said.

Lesson 5:  Even when you don’t feel like it, reach out and interact with those around you because keeping to yourself will only make things that much worse!

I don’t feel like doing anything with anyone.  I just want to be left alone.  I want to go to work with my happy face on, do my job, love on my students, and come home.  Then, I want to crawl onto the couch and read, away from all noise and people.  Nothing excites me.  I find the world to  be a loud, unpredictable place, and I just don’t want to deal right now.   That is only making things worse, of course.  My brain has returned to being a scary place, and being by myself gives me too much time to think about that.  So, I am making the effort to play games at night, go golfing, and talk with friends.  I am trying to reach out, even though it is not what I want to do currently.

Speaking of reading, I read a book this weekend called Come Matter Here by Hannah Brencher- and it was like she was inside my brain!  It was very comforting to read her story, as it mostly mirrors my own (except for the young twenty-something part)!  It talks about her struggle with anxiety and depression- and how she is trying to grow stronger in her faith.  I felt like I was talking with my best friend.  She gets it!  She gets me!  I am taking some pages out of her book to try to right this ship that is quickly taking on water.   If  you know of someone who suffers from these things, I would really suggest reading it!

Where that does that currently leave me?  A mess…that’s where it leaves me.  First of all, I practically was in the fetal position this weekend at the thought of going to a catered birthday party- and I had to fight back the tears when I first walked into the house- then I found my peeps and was fine.   I had to do some deep breathing and take my back-up pills to stem a panic attack this morning.   I have been keeping to myself at work and putting on the happy face because I don’t want to EVER use these diagnoses as an excuse, make people uncomfortable, or drive people away with my constant worries, thoughts, fears.  After all, everyone has their own stuff to deal with.  However, I put out an email to my team today to just let them know that things are not going swimmingly, so if I am not myself, it is me and not them.  I got lots of kind words back- and you know what I thought?  Oh my gosh, people are going to think I’m fishing for compliments.  Nope- I just sometimes don’t have the energy to put on the smiley face and pretend all is well, and I needed them to know that.  I am also eating like a crazed person- and then feeling guilty.  I do it on the sly so that no one knows, which I am sure is a sign of some bigger issue.  Like I said, it is leaving me a complete mess.

On top of all this other stuff, I feel guilty for feeling this way.  When I first was diagnosed, I thought to myself that I will just do what I need to do to get better- and I did .  However, this is something that I’ll likely be dealing with for the rest of my life.  It is not my fault, and I am not wallowing in it; I’m dealing the best I can.  It is a chemical imbalance- and my hormones, I think, are getting in on the party and wreaking more havoc.  I keep telling myself that I am blessed beyond compare and always have been, so WTH?!?  However, it’s a hilly ride.  I’m currently in one of those valleys where I have to take care of me and do what I can to ride out- and I will ride it out.   I often think back to how I used to be, how I used to think.  I don’t know what flipped the switch, but I miss those days.  I am sure my friends and family do, too.  Please know that I am trying- I really, really am.  I just ask that you be patient in the meantime.  Please know that if I don’t call, it has nothing to do with you.  If I seem grumpy, it’s me and not you.  I’m trying to remain happy and upbeat- and I am usually successful, but I am struggling right now.  Please understand that.  Please be kind to everyone because you never know what people are struggling with underneath the surface- and if you are suffering, please talk to someone!  It does help.  Maybe get a revolving door of someones so that you don’t wear out your welcome.  🙂  Thanks for letting me vent.

 

The title says it all!  I am currently in the position where I am constantly having to remind myself that I’m an adult and can’t just hide in the corner, curled up in the fetal position- though that is very much what I would like to do most days.  That or run away.  I’m not picky; I think either one would do.  Where to begin…  Life kind of went off the rails for a bit in and around November.  My son was having a hard time with peers bullying him on the bus and at school- along with the normal transition to high school.  I won’t go into all the gory details, but I will just say that he now has half the alphabet in diagnoses- and they all circle around anxiety.  When you deal with it yourself, it stinks- but seeing your child have to deal is a whole new level of awful.   He is doing better, but it has been a long, sometimes painful, road for everyone.  About a month after he was diagnosed, one of our daughters also went on medication for anxiety.  This has been expected since she was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome in fifth grade because anxiety goes hand in hand with that- but the timing wasn’t great.  My husband jokes that we should turn the  M&M dispenser I inherited from my grandparents into a Lexipro dispenser.  That would be better for my waistline, I suppose- but I’ll get to that in a bit.

I wasn’t going to share any of this because my kids don’t need their business put out there for the world to see- and because I didn’t want people judging them (or, let’s be honest, me).  However, there is nothing to be ashamed of- and that is what I have drilled into their heads!  Also, I asked them.    This is no different than being diagnosed with a chronic physical illness like diabetes.  It all comes down to a chemical imbalance.  That is what I have told my kids and what my rational self believes- because it is true.  My irrational self, however, is having a REALLY hard time with all this.  The biggest thing I’ve been chewing on is this:  What the hell did we do wrong???  We have always prided ourselves on having well-behaved, polite, seemingly happy children.  I thought I hid my anxiety reasonably well from them, but now I wonder.  Growing up watching me worry about EVERYTHING has, I am sure, caused  many of these issues.   How can you grow up with a neurotic mother and not become a little neurotic yourself?  Then I start comparing myself and my kids to my friends and their kids, to  my brother and his kids.    That is a slippery slope, for sure.  I know this, but I can’t help myself.  Needless to say, this has led me to feeling like a failure on the parenting front currently.  That is a lot of baggage to carry- though I am happy to report that all the kids are successful; they just stress out more than the average bear- a lot more, as it turns out.

Just as things were starting to stabilize on the home front, I was running with my husband on a trail in March and tore a ligament in my ankle- three weeks before we were supposed to run a half marathon that we had trained for weeks for.  You want to talk about depressing!!!  I was in a boot and on crutches for two weeks, then a boot for two weeks, and then a brace for two more weeks.  Have you ever had to teach on crutches?  It stinks- especially when your school is huge with multiple buildings and long hallways.  Being the type A, neurotic person that I am, I followed the doctor’s directions to a T- and it still isn’t right! The one thing I didn’t do that he suggested was go to the gym and ride a stationary bike regularly.  I did it once and was so uncomfortable that I never went back.  I only like to go to the gym in the summer at odd times of the day when I know there won’t be a lot of people there- and the ones that are there are in their 70’s.   I just feel fat and frumpy next to all these 30 something, halter-top wearing, toned and bronzed goddesses.  Seriously, why do they even need to go to the gym?!?  Don’t answer that.  I just recently have started doing body weight things and running on the treadmill at home again, but my ankle still swells afterwards and feels weird.  Anyway, I am a stress eater; this and the issues with my kids have been stressful.  Needless to say, it has not been pretty.  I estimate that I’ve put on twenty pounds since I injured myself at the beginning of March.  TWENTY pounds, y’all!!   That’s like 10 pounds a month, or 2.5ish pounds a week.  It is unbelievable- and still I eat.  I hate myself for doing it and hate the way I look- and still I eat.  The worse I feel, the more I want to eat and the less I want to work out- and the less I want to leave my house.   As I sit here typing this, it sounds ridiculous.  I KNOW it sounds ridiculous- and yet my irrational self tends to take over when things are not going well.   Has anyone besides my husband picked up on this?  I don’t think so; I am back to putting on my happy facade and then retreating to my house as soon as possible.  It is exhausting.

Speaking of exhausting, I am tired all….the…time.  I can go to bed at 8pm, wake up at 8am, and still feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.  I really thought something was physically wrong with me until I really gave it some thought (because I am not going near any doctor’s office where I have to step on a scale unless a limb actually falls off!!).  It is because I am lugging around extra weight, not exercising, and giving everyone my “life is great” version of things (because no one likes a negative Nelly).

Mark and I have been part of a small group at church for a few months now (since October, maybe?).  My goal was to grow in my relationship to God.  Let me tell you; that did NOT happen!  I want to grow-and I’m trying to grow- but I can’t seem to get there.  The more I learned, the more I felt I was doing this whole thing wrong- and the more disconnected I felt.  At times, I was pretty sure a lightening bolt from the sky was going to strike me.   It’s pretty sad when you can feel like a failure at your relationship with God, but here I stand.  I’m going to keep working at it, and I know it will get better.  (See, my rational self reemerges from time to time).

The month of May for a teacher is kind of like swimming in the middle of the ocean with jeans  and a sweatshirt dragging you down while sharks circle, waiting to take the first bite.  The kids are starting to lose their minds.  There is testing, testing, testing….which, because the kids are starting to lose their minds, doesn’t always go as one would hope- but which the state uses to decide whether or not you are an effective teacher (no pressure there).   We are trying to hold last minute meetings, gather materials for student cumulative folders, and finish up our last global unit.  This year, we have the added stress of being redistricted, which means we are losing some kids- and staff!   That also means, some people will be teaching different grade levels next year.   On top of this, I’ve been having an issue with a colleague.  I don’t want to get into it, but let’s just say one thing I have learned in this journey- and have not forgotten- is that I need to surround myself with genuine people.  I don’t want to be around someone who is negative or talking out of both sides of their mouths.  I don’t need to be worrying about what she is saying about me when I’m not there.  As the lady says in the youtube video, “Nobody ain’t got time for that!”

I haven’t been to my therapist since January- can you tell?  I was doing so well!  I had learned to turn the negative voice in my head off, let stressful thoughts just drift by (or at least not implant themselves), and I was feeling strong mentally and physically.  I was trying harder to live in the moment and was enjoying myself.  I had an appointment scheduled for sometime in April, but I had to cancel it because my daughter rescued a dog off the side of the highway and we had to take her to the vet.  That has a happy ending (hint:  we have two dogs now), but it has not been a cake walk.  I have yet to reschedule, but that is on my to-list.  We will talk about getting myself back to my happy place and what to do next time when life throws a curve ball- and it hits you smack in the face.

That is kind of where I am right now.  I am hanging on for dear life by my fingertips, trying to do what I need to do and not lose my ever-loving mind in the process- or any semblance of a waist.  I’m keeping my eye on the prize:  summer vacation.  That will take a lot of stress away on many fronts- and it will allow me to better take care of myself.  Sometimes, I get mad at myself because there are people facing SO MUCH WORSE- and I’m blubbering on about seemingly inconsequential things.  However, I can feel myself sliding back into that “darker” place where it’s a struggle to leave my house- and writing it out helps me to regain perspective.   I am always going to have to deal with anxiety; I have resigned myself to that fact.  However, depression will not win; I will fight tooth and nail to enjoy this blessed life I have been given!  Thank you all for your support and understanding…or at least tolerance.  🙂

I have big plans for this year!  I’m going to try to get out there, make connections, grow stronger in my faith, be my authentic self and not give a flip what others think!  Sounds great, right?  It is!  It will be- except for maybe that last part! First for the positives…

I’ve started journaling, which I really enjoy.  It’s creative, helps me think things through, and keep me organized- when I do it.  My word for the year is grateful, and I’m grateful for so many things!  I have been blessed my entire life and continue to be, so I thought writing about all the things I’m grateful for every day would keep depression and anxiety at bay.  The problem is,  I’m grateful for my bed y’all- and sometimes I’d rather enjoy that than write, so I need to come up with a way that doesn’t make journaling feel like a chore some days.  It’s a process, and I just started, so I know I’ll figure it out.

Since I’ve started this journey in March, I’ve done a lot of thinking (when one is diagnosed with a mental illness or two, it causes one to reflect…ALOT), sharing, and reaching out.  I have discovered that I am surrounded DAILY by people who get me…ok, maybe not completely, but then we’d all be crazy- ha!…but at least like or love me for me and support me when I need it.  That has been an amazing thing to realize.  I mean, I knew my family would always love and support me, but I was worried about everyone else- and that was part of my problem.  So, if you are worried, reach out to others, share your authentic self, and see what happens.  I promise, you will be blessed beyond your wildest dreams.  Really!  I had no idea that 1. So many (and I mean SO MANY) people feel just like me and 2. So many people would support me on the roller coaster ride WHO AREN’T EVEN MY FAMILY!  Seriously, they CAN run away and not only choose not to, but they come closer.  I get teary-eyed just writing that.  😍

I’ve been reading some books on learning to love yourself and harnessing your uniqueness.  I also read a book about a lady who also has anxiety and depression, along with a myriad of other things- and that made me laugh out loud constantly and realize I could be worse.  It’s called Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson.  You should read it, really…but not in a public place because she is hilarious and you will laugh out loud.  I was on a plane when I started reading and had to stop because people kept looking at me funny- and you know how I am about that.  Anyway, I digress.  Where was I?  Right…lots of thinking.  I’ve decided I do like who I am.  Yes, I am very quirky and that can be irritating, I will admit.  But, I genuinely care about everyone.   I want to help everyone- and I mean everyone.   I am a good friend. Once you’re my friend, you will always be my friend.  Another aside here:   I’ve grown in that area, I will admit, over the past 5 years or so.  I lost a friend a few years ago because I was quick to anger and not so quick to forgive- and though we’ve made amends, it’ll never be the same- and I will regret that until the day I die.  So, don’t do that, people!  Learn from my mistake.  Basically, my heart is full when I can make someone’s day better.  Confession (again):  I didn’t used to be that way.  I used to be so negative!  Not to others- that would just be mean, but about others.  I would gossip and complain and see only the bad in people.  I’ve worked REALLY had to not be that person.  I see myself as a positive person, for the most part.  I’ll say it again.   I like me (usually…I still have some hang-ups), so I’ve come a long way since March.  I’m one who always thinks there is always room for growth, so I will keep growing!

I’m also growing spiritually, which I’m so grateful for and know is making me a better person.  I didn’t grow up in a church, per se, but I was never discouraged either.  I would sometimes tag along with friends or my grandmother.  I had a working knowledge, but was sometimes embarrassed that I couldn’t contribute in conversations in any meaningful way.  My husband and I have been dipping our toes in since we got married.  We jumped in up to our knees when we lived in NH, but the retreated a bit after a bad experience with a church  in Maine.  Once we moved here, we started searching again and after many, many awkward visits have found a place that feels like home.  We are back in up to our knees and wading deeper little by little.  I’ve been reading the Bible, trying to listen to what God is saying, and attending small group (which is uber anxiety producing…like, off the charts, but I’m pushing through because it helps me think and sort things and grow).  I feel myself growing closer to God, and that makes me happy and calm…er…calmer.

So, that is where I am right now.  I feel great, am surrounded by love and support, am growing as a person, and feel confident- when surrounded by my tribe, my peeps, my people.  Now for the less than positive:

I wanted to crawl in a hole this weekend, y’all, and not come out!  This is going to sound dumb, but I suffer from anxiety and I’m pretty sure that’s the basis for that diagnosis- when you freak about stupid things, so bare with me.  First, I innocently commented on someone’s political post, saying I diasagree with Trump and rolling back DACA and CHIP (because I dislike politics and instead try to look at things through a humanitarian lens). Most people on that thread disagreed and gave reasons.  Civil discourse, I loved it!  Then some person who doesn’t  even know me said I was racist and got all on my case.  I referred to Maine as “all white Maine,”(which, statistically it is ) in an effort to explain why I think we need DACA (I can see the diversity more in the south and thus the need).  Even when I said I was a Mainer- and always will be- she continued.  I stopped responding, though I noticed she directed something at me again today.  ANYWAY- that made me sad and anxious.  Why would someone think that about me?  Should I apologize?  Am I a snob, as she insinuated?  I kept thinking this all day until I finally wrote a private message to the person who’s comment I replied on and apologized.  They were fine and had no idea what I was apologizing for, but it still bothers me!  Ugh!  Lesson learned:  just stay away from politics and try to make the world a better place in other, more tangible- and less volatile- ways.  Your PSA for today.  Moving on…Then, I had to go ask my son’s wrestling coach- in person- to excuse him from the last half hour of practice on Monday for a prior commitment- and the guy is scary. I mean, he never smiles and gives lots of directives and just intimidates the pants off me- and he talks right up in your face.  I like my space, people.  If I back up when we’re talking, it’s because you are in my bbble and making me uncomfortable!  So, I’m explaining to him, tripping over my words, sweating, and walking backwards because he won’t take a hint!  And then I ended up emailing him later to explain again- when I could think clearly and sound like the 45 year old confident woman I am…or at least pretend to be.  Then today, we went to a membership meeting at church.  We were in a room with the pastor, 4 other couples, and 3 people- most of which we didn’t know- and we were expected to share out- twice!  I spent the whole time wringing my hands and praying that I wouldn’t have to share anything more than my name.  Next week, we get to stand up in front of the whole congregation, so that’ll be fun.  Not!  I may need to take the back- up to my happy pill and my happy pill.  😂.  Kidding…not kidding.

Clearly, I still have my issues.  LOL!  Depression has not taken hold in a awhile, but the general feeling will sometimes start to descend out of the blue (seriously- for no reason I can ascertain), but I can usually push it back.  If I can’t, I just retreat a bit, give myself a pep talk, and carry on- and that usually works.  It’s the anxiety that kicks my butt- and I know it!  I try not to put myself in a position to have it start up, but I also don’t want to become a hermit.  So, I I’ll keep connecting with those who “get” me, and keep working on not caring about what others think.  2018 will be the year I not only crack my shell, but I kick it to the curb!  Blessings to you all!  ❤️

I love this time of the year!  The holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years) have always been a time to get together with family and just revel in the love and acceptance that family provides.  Growing up, we used to go to my grandparents’ houses and celebrate with them and all the cousins, aunts, and uncles you could ever want.  It was just amazing!  The cousins would all be playing (and sneaking sweets) while the adults all scrambled to get the food on the table, clean up, and then sit around and talk.  As a kid, I certainly looked forward to those times, but I don’t think I ever appreciated them as much as I do now.  The reason being that now, we don’t have those raucous celebrations because the grandparents have passed, the cousins have scattered across the country, and my parents and aunts and uncles just don’t gather like they used to.   Heck, I don’t even live in the same area code as my parents, brother and family, and one of my daughters.  It is just hard.   I miss the olden days, when everyone was still here and nearby.  If I could turn back the clock to when my kids were, oh, 1, 9, and 12- and freeze it there- I would do it in a heartbeat.  I am excited, though.  My girls are coming south for Christmas, so my little family of five will be whole again in just 2 more days.  Woo hoo!  I am already planning peanut butter ball making, gingerbread man making, the annual watching of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, and a drive around to look at the lights.  We are also visiting my husband’s family for a couple of days- and there is a lot them-so the chaos will be nice; that is what holidays are all about!   So, these festivities have got me in a great mood- that and a two week vacation from work!

Overall, things have been going well, more or less.  I am, generally speaking, happy.   My mother-in-law commented that I seem happier than she has seen me in a while.  That is a good thing.  I am not always feeling on the verge of tears- another good thing.  I am really working hard (and it is hard for me) to not freak out about things and to let them roll.  I am trying not to analyze things people say and do in an effort to see if I said or did something wrong to cause it (sometimes with more success than others).  I am trying to find a space daily when I am just trying to focus on my breathing and blessings and then on God’s peace.   Some days, I can achieve a level of peace before bed and other days, I cannot.  I am sure that is not so very different from other people.  Some days are great and others are not; that is life.

Sometimes, though, anxiety sneaks up on me and bites me in butt.  Sometimes it is social anxiety and sometimes it is generalized anxiety.  A couple of weekends ago, my husband and I were going to go Christmas shopping.  I was super excited and was playing Christmas music while I got ready.  First, though, we had to go pick up our Christmas cards.  We got to the place and they couldn’t find them.  After 3 different customer service reps, they located the cards, we paid, and left.  Next, we decided, since we had Ryan, to go to the eye glass place to buy some new glasses (I need some and Ryan thinks he does).  We were hoping to use the BOGO deal to get his new glasses (for the hour a day he doesn’t wear his contacts…but I digress).   We went in and there were only 2 other people.  I looked around for what seemed like forever and finally found a pair I liked.  By then, the place was packed.  I finally sat down with a person to start the whole fitting process.  I forgot my insurance card, so she yelled over to someone to ask if they could google my company, informing everyone that I had forgotten my card.  Embarrassing.  Then, I asked about the BOGO deal.  Again, she yelled across the store to inquire about whether or not it was best to go with that deal or through insurance.  Then she said she had to look up my policy.  I told her I would.  She then asked if she could go ring out another customer.  Long story short- I left.  I was feeling uncomfortable and on the verge of tears, so I told her we’d come back when I had my card and quickly walked out the door.  Suddenly, I felt so defeated.  I just sat there while my husband backed out- and then burst into tears.  Needless to say,  I no longer was in the mood to shop.  I don’t know if I was just horrified that she kept yelling across the store, causing everyone to look at me, embarrassed that I was the idiot who forgot her card, or frustrated that nothing was going right.  I have no idea.  I just know that I wanted to go home and regroup.

The next day,  all was well, so I screwed up the courage to invite some friends over to my house for a girls only night out.  Full disclosure:  I’ve never done that before as an adult- EVER.  Sure, we’ve had friends over before, but they have always been husbands and wives (and kids) together.  That always feels safer to me.    I can’t explain why; it just does.  I will never understand how my brother can be the life of any party, my parents are social butterflies, and I am a social wallflower.  Anyway, so I invited 9 people.  It was spur of the moment (just 6 days away), during the holiday season, because I’ve always wanted to do this but never had the nerve- and I kept going back and forth for a couple of weeks before finally hitting send.  Immediately, 2 people told me they couldn’t come.  Then a third…then a fourth…then a fifth.  Holy Hell!!  This felt like being back in high school and being shunned by the popular kids.  Rationally, I knew it was because it was during the busy holiday season and I waited too long to make a decision- but my irrational self told me people were just being nice with their reasons and it was because I am nice enough to talk to at work and all, but duller than a used penny outside of work.  I had a good cry then, too- and told myself that I was NEVER doing that again.   I kind of just wanted to crawl into a hole and forget I ever asked.  In the end, four people came, and I think we had a good time.  I enjoyed listening to everyone’s stories and laughing with them.  It was fun, but nerve wracking.  The whole time I was wondering if they were having fun, were enjoying the food, were wishing the time would go by faster.  This is how my mind works.   It is oh-so-frustrating.  Will I do something like that again?  Not sure at this moment, to be honest.

Then there is the constant battle about what those who know me think.  Do I come across as friendly?  Positive?   Fun to be around?  Or do I come across as a Debbie Downer?   I have no idea.  I try to remain positive (at least outwardly) and be a blessing (however small) to those whose paths I cross.  I just hope the rest will take care of itself.   A friend told me the other day that someone else said that I always “tell it like it is” and that is what they like about me.  While that sounds nice, I have spend the past 24 hours wondering if I am really like that- and how that could possibly be a good thing.  I always try to be careful with people’s feelings and with what I say.   I know I am passionate about my work- and do speak out all the time when I really feel strongly about a topic there- but only because I am advocating for my students.  I don’t feel l am outspoken, otherwise…but maybe I am.  When I think of outspoken, I think of someone who demands attention and just says whatever pops into their head- regardless of how it might make others feel.  So, then I was thinking that I really need to be less vocal at work because I don’t want to be that person- and really make sure I listen more and talk less in social situations (though, I hate the awkward lull in conversation…).  My therapist would tell me to just be me- and those who like me, like me.  However, don’t you think it is always good to try to improve oneself?  I do.

Another social anxiety moment:  I am a keeper of secrets.  If someone tells me something in confidence,  I don’t repeat it.  If it is personal, I don’t repeat it.  I am a firm believer in the golden rule, and I have been burned before with people sharing things I have said in confidence- so I don’t do it (I also don’t say things that I wouldn’t want the world to know…just in case).  The other night, we had friends over and were joking around.  I started to say something that I meant as a joke, but it was almost all the way out when I realized it probably would be best if I didn’t say it.  Too late.  Everyone chuckled and the night rolled on.  We all had a great time.    I kid you not- I woke up at 3:30 that morning thinking about that moment in time; even though no none seemed bothered it, it bothered me.  As soon as I got up the next morning, I texted an apology.  Growing up, I would often say stupid things and then have to pull my foot out of my mouth.  As an adult, I try very hard to think before speaking…but sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain.  Then, it took my friend an entire day to respond- and I was thinking the whole time that she was incredibly angry and was trying to figure out a nice way to tell me I was an ass.  As it turns out, her husband had her phone and she didn’t see it until late in the day.  By then, I had worked myself into a tither.  Lesson here?  Trust your friendships a little more- and drink less wine.

I still carry other weird anxieties with me.  For example, I hate walking the dog in our neighborhood because I am always afraid people are judging me…or my dog…or both.  I do not think so highly of myself that I think everyone wants to stop what they’re doing to watch me saunter by, by any means.  I just get this pit in my stomach without any explanation.  I can’t wait to get onto the wooded trails, where I am generally by myself.  Then, of course, I have anxiety about being in the woods by myself because, let’s face it, my dog is really a chicken in a dog suit- but it is better than being in the neighborhood.

Looking back over this post, I apologize if it is all over the place.  I really use this as an opportunity to let out my thoughts and insecurities, analyze them, and then come up with a plan to more forward.  The major theme in this one is anxiety- mostly social.  I guess that is what I still struggle with the most.  I always feel like a train wreck socially.  I say things that sound stupid and spend the next 5 minutes kicking myself mentally.  I can be too quiet and no fun.  I am UNCOMFORTABLE in large settings.  I spend a lot of time watching others and admiring the ease with which they interact at large functions.  I am definitely much more chill (believe it or not) about my daily interactions than I used to be,  but I still have a ways to go!  a

Where does all this leave me?  I always do some heavy duty thinking as the new year approaches.  I see it as an opportunity to take a step (or three) to improve my happiness and well-being.    I took a personality test not long ago.  As it turns out, I am an ISFJ- introverted sensing feeling judging ( or introverted sensing with extraverted feeling).  WTH, right?  So, I am heading to the bookstore shortly to buy a book to further explore this.  I think it will be interesting to see what my strengths and weaknesses are and how to nurture them- and use them in a way that benefits those around me while helping me to stay in balance better.  Here are my current goals for the new year:

1. Lose the 20 pounds I have gained since this whole mess started last March.  I stress eat and need to find healthier ways to deal with that.  One way is to sign up for a half marathon to get me back in my running shoes (check!).  I keep getting emails telling me how many days are left until the race (we’re at 88).  That stresses me out, BUT every cookie I eat is more poundage I have to carry for 13 miles, so there is that for a deterrant.  I’m also thinking about yoga.

2.Figure out what my personality type means and how I can nurture it in a way that helps me and those around me.

3.Continue to work on putting myself out there in the hopes that I can squash this social anxiety at some point.

4.Cherish those who are in my life more and be more vocal about it. There are many, many people who come and go in life.  I’m starting to realize that even though life gets in the way, you need to stay connected- and build more connections.  Connections are important and vital to your well-being.

I know I will have more as the new year approaches and I’ve really had time to think and ponder….but life is about to get busy.  I wanted to sort through my current thoughts so that I can make room for fun and family!  I am planning to lay low these next couple of days to recharge and be ready!

Wishing you all a very merry Christmas and the happiest of new years!  I hope 2018 is all that you dream it will be!