I had a good night sleep last night and I believe there are a couple of reasons for that. One would be, this process that is letting my struggles out into the light. I was speaking to a very dear friend last night and she told me that opening up and putting it down, may be the best thing I have done for myself in a long time. She told me that keeping these things in my head, in the dark, they get big and scary really fast. Once I start grabbing thoughts, dragging them out, shaking the dust off, and putting the pieces together I can see them better. I am making them a whole thought (by putting them down out here in space), so I can then start to see the edges and outlines. I can see them and sort them when they are not all jumbled up in my head. Then slowly this one thought is not as big as it first appeared in the dark. It becomes something to work on, chisel away at, and maybe with the right attitude even control one day. Well, she said some amazing thing like that.
Another reason for some good sleep might be that I have many loved ones in my life who care about me. I am able to step outside of myself today and see that they worry about me all the time. I know that they believe very strongly that by the power of prayer and positive language I will not stay lost. I know that even though I am struggling their convection can give me strength when I can hold on to it. I have a Dad that tells me all the time, "#1. Don't sweat the small stuff & #2. It's all small stuff."
That gets me to my title today. That could be the definition of depression in my world. I get so lost in the stuff.
It kinda looks like this: I get up late yesterday. (pebble) I have no energy because I am tired, because I stayed up late the night before. I stayed up late because I am stuck in my head and can't sleep. (circle #1) I don't do much of anything and survive until nap time. (small accomplishment) We take a nap. We wake up. The little man is cranky because I don't know why. (more pebbles) The teenager has been working on me for over a week and will be riding the bus home today even though it only benefits her. So we load up and drive the 6 miles to the bus stop instead of the 10 miles to school 45 minuets later in the day to pick her up. (frustration at circle #2) Little man won't stay in his car seat. (fight) Then we holler and bounce all over the cab of the truck while we wait for the bus. (getting claustrophobic) Teenager opens the door and climbs in and before the door shuts she is working on me about the next thing she just has to have. (arrggg) Buckle Little man back in his seat because we have to go to town. (brace for the fight, and people) Teenager shifts focus to something that cost money almost at once and has a following immediately. (tag team, great) At this point I am running on E. There is nothing in the tank and no reserve. I will not make it through this day with out wounding or being wounded, most likely both. The landslide has started and it appears at this point it may remain minor. Take care of business in town and are headed to pick up Middle man and the whole side of the mountain comes down. Honey says, "we can do that right, it is not a big deal?" Totally defeated I answer in my small voice, " yes, if that is what we need to do." But I remember saying that there were very specific circumstances that needed to be meet to make that work and that is not even close to what I told you I needed. (when is what I say important?) We are in a free fall. He takes note of the small voice and asks that I explain. I do but the damage is done. We change the plans but I still feel completely worthless, and unheard. (small thing fixed by speaking up, still circling the drain) Now I have all the kids and I'm neck deep before we make it home. I am hurt, I lash out because no one is hearing me and hurt others, the guilt of it all starts to crush and there are still two hours to bed time.
How can I know something as simple as #2 it is all small stuff, and be buried alive by the same small stuff? How can I see the house does not clean it's self, and be completely leveled when I try to clean it up? How do I get so claustrophobic that I have panic attacks that require medication, but I am a pack rat that must have my stuff around me? None of it makes sense. Nothing about where I live in my head is logical. Once the circles start spinning and I feel locked in, there is nothing that can keep me from crashing. We live through this on a daily basis at my house. Of course some days are better than others but the opposite is true as well. When it is a bad day it can get worse.
I gave my husband a circle to represent my Love. It has no beginning and no end, it is unbreakable. How can something so special and big and honest and beautiful also be malicious? I flinch as the circles start flying in from the abyss. As they slide over my head and to my waist, I start the constant motion to keep them moving because if they all stop at the same time I don't get out of bed for days. So I stand here quietly concentrating on keeping them going and everyone wants to know why I am tired? If I get distracted for even one second it all comes crashing down. The really bad days are when no matter what I do they crash down anyway.
I would like to see my struggles turn from circles to a tug-of-war rope. That way as I get past a struggle it will be behind me and be something I can lean on when I need to dig in for the really tough challenges. I could keep moving down the rope, moving forward. I would learn what I need to from a struggle then it becomes part of the base I can brace against as I keep moving. Instead of these circles that never begin because they never end. Even when they fall down around me I have to pick them all up and get them moving again to move forward. I very rarely am able to leave one behind. Even more rarely am I able to break one. They just pile up and are always heavy because I have to carry them all instead of being able to coil them nicely behind me.
I want to Live My Life not just be in it.
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Good days
It is funny. I started writing and just wanted to put some random struggles out into the world. As I look over what I have written so far I find myself wanting to know more about the author. Do you have good days and what do they look like, I want to ask. Oh, I realize, I do have good days, sometimes just moments. Sometimes, my best moments of the day are when I see I made it through without hurting anyone seriously through action or the lack thereof.
I got to spend the day with all three of my kids, away from the house, doing something fun this past Sunday. I stood in the lines to get the things that we needed. I took the small one to the bathroom while leaving the older two behind. I watched as the middle child went to the bathroom on his own and came back. I had a good day and the kids had fun. Alone these things may not seem like a big deal, but to me and my family they are. I have not done anything like that without my husband almost ever.
I am not comfortable with large crowds. I get claustrophobic and panic. I can when I have too, but the quicker I can get out of that situation the better for everyone. The really weird thing is I would rather be a face in the crowd than be close enough that someone might see my hurts. I prefer the larger church (yes I church when I can) where I am just a face. Sure there is light conversation with the teachers in the kids rooms but it is much to busy for more than a "Hi, good to see you again." At the small church I am afraid that people will want to get to know me and there will be more people in my to worry about letting down or hurting. So I run in, drop the kids off, (oh, get this) sit in the front, and run out when it's over. So taking the kids to any event without my social husband to hide behind is hard for me.
I watch him in awe. He shines most of the time. His light has it's own magnetic pull. I am amazed everyday that this man is with me, even the good ones. He can talk to anyone and everyone. He can laugh until he is gasping for air at the drop of a hat. Well, the drop of a thought would be more accurate. The best part is he does! He laughs, I mean really laughs at things because he can see the humor. I think that is so cool. I wish I could see the movie screen in his head all the time. Our family knows, if he starts, you just have to wait until he can breath again to find out what struck him as funny because there is no telling.
I watch my kids play together and I feel warm. I look outside in awe of what God can do. I see colors. I would talk about the smells of things I love but I can't smell.
I always think in those moments why can't this be enough for me? My dad used to tell me, "someday you are going to have to be happy with what you have," but I am still looking over the fence wondering. Not what is over there because I know. I am in a good place. I have smart (maybe too smart) and healthy kids, a wonderful man to walk through life with, I even have some good stories about how I got to where I am. Those are the things that matter but now when I look of the fence and wonder I wonder about how they do it. Yes, Dad, I hear you. We are all ducks. Calm on the surface and paddling like hell underneath. Then I wonder, what makes it so hard for me to keep paddling?
Well I feel good about this entry. I will go to bed tonight not as angry or hurt and maybe a little less lost. I like being able to look at this and see all the positive in there. Maybe someday soon I can look up to find I am living my life and not just in it.
Hope, nice warm hope.
I got to spend the day with all three of my kids, away from the house, doing something fun this past Sunday. I stood in the lines to get the things that we needed. I took the small one to the bathroom while leaving the older two behind. I watched as the middle child went to the bathroom on his own and came back. I had a good day and the kids had fun. Alone these things may not seem like a big deal, but to me and my family they are. I have not done anything like that without my husband almost ever.
I am not comfortable with large crowds. I get claustrophobic and panic. I can when I have too, but the quicker I can get out of that situation the better for everyone. The really weird thing is I would rather be a face in the crowd than be close enough that someone might see my hurts. I prefer the larger church (yes I church when I can) where I am just a face. Sure there is light conversation with the teachers in the kids rooms but it is much to busy for more than a "Hi, good to see you again." At the small church I am afraid that people will want to get to know me and there will be more people in my to worry about letting down or hurting. So I run in, drop the kids off, (oh, get this) sit in the front, and run out when it's over. So taking the kids to any event without my social husband to hide behind is hard for me.
I watch him in awe. He shines most of the time. His light has it's own magnetic pull. I am amazed everyday that this man is with me, even the good ones. He can talk to anyone and everyone. He can laugh until he is gasping for air at the drop of a hat. Well, the drop of a thought would be more accurate. The best part is he does! He laughs, I mean really laughs at things because he can see the humor. I think that is so cool. I wish I could see the movie screen in his head all the time. Our family knows, if he starts, you just have to wait until he can breath again to find out what struck him as funny because there is no telling.
I watch my kids play together and I feel warm. I look outside in awe of what God can do. I see colors. I would talk about the smells of things I love but I can't smell.
I always think in those moments why can't this be enough for me? My dad used to tell me, "someday you are going to have to be happy with what you have," but I am still looking over the fence wondering. Not what is over there because I know. I am in a good place. I have smart (maybe too smart) and healthy kids, a wonderful man to walk through life with, I even have some good stories about how I got to where I am. Those are the things that matter but now when I look of the fence and wonder I wonder about how they do it. Yes, Dad, I hear you. We are all ducks. Calm on the surface and paddling like hell underneath. Then I wonder, what makes it so hard for me to keep paddling?
Well I feel good about this entry. I will go to bed tonight not as angry or hurt and maybe a little less lost. I like being able to look at this and see all the positive in there. Maybe someday soon I can look up to find I am living my life and not just in it.
Hope, nice warm hope.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Why Wont You Listen?
I speak english.
I even speak clearly most of the time.
I tell others that I want things, that I need things, even what I expect from them. I answer the questions that are asked of me. Why does no one hear or understand me? As we go through the year I hear my loved ones speak of things they wish to see or have. I make a note and when it is possible I can get those things for them. I worry about the things I want to to for others. I often put myself last to put others first. I try not to look around and say, "Which of you are doing that for me because I am having a hard time seeing it?" I know my perception is off, I know that you may be advertising in neon and I just don't see, and I ask those questions because I want to speak your language. See, I understand we all speak different love langages. Which simply means we all think different things are important in different ways depending on how we were taught. I want to know what the things are that you do that you feel I just brush aside. I feel brushed aside all the time, by everyone.
Example: (just one from today alone)
Mother: Please pick up the livingroom, take out the cat litter, wash your hands, eat dinner, shower, then load the dishwasher.
Son: Guess what I did at school today........
Mother: That is very nice, cool (or whatever applies) Now could you get started for me?
The 8 year old promptly turns to his 3 year old brother and says come on as they take off through the house. After waiting 20 mins, to give the brothers time to play, Mom reminds Son that he has chores he is expected to do. So he picks up a sock and zeros in on the TV.
Now up to this point I am Ok as long as the mess in the house has not sent me into a closterphobic panic attack. From here on out however, it gets insane quick. I am screaming at my 8 year old son and a 15 min job morphs into a 2 1/2 hours marathon. How long can I not do what she has asked of me before she quits pestering me? I know that is what he is thinking because it is a crap shoot as to what kind of day I am having. More than once he gets away with just not doing because I just don't have the energy to fight.
I am sitting here thinking, hurting, begging for help with no one to ask because of this. I started the entry for today about the Good Days. But here I am again, just struggling!
When my daughter was around two, I explained to my husband that you must pick your battles. You have to know what fights are worth having. The problem I have now is that everything is a battle. I have to prove to everyone all the time that I am willing to stand my ground and stand up for myself. I must prove to the 3 year old that I mean it when I say nap time. I have to prove to the 8 year old that I really want him to do what I ask. I have to prove to the 13 year old that I am watching and she can't just run over everyone. I have to prove to the 36 year old that I have a brain.
Only I do not have the strength to fight all those battles everyday, all day long. The longer I am stuck in this place the harder it is to battle. I still remember the time when I could handle my children all the way to bed time. Why am I not important enough for you to listen too. Any of you, all of you, sometimes I NEED you to listen to me because I can not fight today. I don't want to have to prove myself. I don't want to have to explain everything. I don't want to defend myself against you because you don't understand why I can not defend myself and it really does not matter how common sence you think it is.
I speak english and I know that the rest of you do as well because I taught most of you.
I even speak clearly most of the time.
I tell others that I want things, that I need things, even what I expect from them. I answer the questions that are asked of me. Why does no one hear or understand me? As we go through the year I hear my loved ones speak of things they wish to see or have. I make a note and when it is possible I can get those things for them. I worry about the things I want to to for others. I often put myself last to put others first. I try not to look around and say, "Which of you are doing that for me because I am having a hard time seeing it?" I know my perception is off, I know that you may be advertising in neon and I just don't see, and I ask those questions because I want to speak your language. See, I understand we all speak different love langages. Which simply means we all think different things are important in different ways depending on how we were taught. I want to know what the things are that you do that you feel I just brush aside. I feel brushed aside all the time, by everyone.
Example: (just one from today alone)
Mother: Please pick up the livingroom, take out the cat litter, wash your hands, eat dinner, shower, then load the dishwasher.
Son: Guess what I did at school today........
Mother: That is very nice, cool (or whatever applies) Now could you get started for me?
The 8 year old promptly turns to his 3 year old brother and says come on as they take off through the house. After waiting 20 mins, to give the brothers time to play, Mom reminds Son that he has chores he is expected to do. So he picks up a sock and zeros in on the TV.
Now up to this point I am Ok as long as the mess in the house has not sent me into a closterphobic panic attack. From here on out however, it gets insane quick. I am screaming at my 8 year old son and a 15 min job morphs into a 2 1/2 hours marathon. How long can I not do what she has asked of me before she quits pestering me? I know that is what he is thinking because it is a crap shoot as to what kind of day I am having. More than once he gets away with just not doing because I just don't have the energy to fight.
I am sitting here thinking, hurting, begging for help with no one to ask because of this. I started the entry for today about the Good Days. But here I am again, just struggling!
When my daughter was around two, I explained to my husband that you must pick your battles. You have to know what fights are worth having. The problem I have now is that everything is a battle. I have to prove to everyone all the time that I am willing to stand my ground and stand up for myself. I must prove to the 3 year old that I mean it when I say nap time. I have to prove to the 8 year old that I really want him to do what I ask. I have to prove to the 13 year old that I am watching and she can't just run over everyone. I have to prove to the 36 year old that I have a brain.
Only I do not have the strength to fight all those battles everyday, all day long. The longer I am stuck in this place the harder it is to battle. I still remember the time when I could handle my children all the way to bed time. Why am I not important enough for you to listen too. Any of you, all of you, sometimes I NEED you to listen to me because I can not fight today. I don't want to have to prove myself. I don't want to have to explain everything. I don't want to defend myself against you because you don't understand why I can not defend myself and it really does not matter how common sence you think it is.
I speak english and I know that the rest of you do as well because I taught most of you.
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