Endings

I wasn’t really in the mood to write tonight.  I just sat down to check email.  And then, just a few words from a friend triggered a reflective, sentimental, and peaceful feeling in me.  And of all things, that feeling is about endings.

It’s the start of back-to- school time around here and that is a beginning.  New beginnings, or even repetitive beginnings, can trigger those butterflies in the tummy, those sweaty palms, and the uncertain anxiety.  After that initial response, however, beginnings are generally regarded as good stress.  It’s how we move forward, how we grow.  Beginnings leave us with a positive image and connotation.  I think of new friends, new challenges, new opportunities, of firsts with my loving hubby and my kids, of all the places I would have never been without a beginning.

Tonight’s email was from a friend facing an ending.  A loved one is in hospice care and will not be with us on this earth much longer.  And aware of that, they struggle.  They struggle with how to balance the joy of a long, fruitful life with the reality of the infant this man is now.  The face the cold, hard job of taking care of someone that by nature, and position as father and grandfather and his other roles, was here to take care of them.

And I grieve for them.  For their upcoming loss, for the difficulty involved in watching it, for the logistics of trying to be many places at once, for the hesitation we all feel in knowing what to say or do or how to talk about this all.  I share my thoughts and prayers as support for them, as they support each other and complete the basic challenge of getting through another day like this and another, and another…And then enters guilt!  Just because we humans get tired and stressed and exhausted from the struggle – it doesn’t mean we wish that loved one wasn’t here.  No God, please don’t misunderstand – that’s not what we meant at all.  In an eyes-half-open moment while changing an adult’s diaper at 3 am and seeing him in pain – our reluctance wasn’t a wish for it to be over!  It’s just human nature.  The most fundamental and basic of human feelings and emotions – and a reminder that the only way to survive times such as these are by the Grace of God.

I have fortunately lost very few people that I had a close relationship with.  But fortunately (oddly enough I mean that), my work has put me in a place to have many experiences with death and dying.  I’ve come to find a beauty in it – a rhythm, or a peace if you will.  I’ve had the privilege of sitting vigil with families in the midst of saying good bye.  I really do mean privilege.  They’ve shared their most private, most difficult, and most hurtful moments with me, as a nurse, as a caregiver.  My position brought me into those situations.  The connection I felt in my heart has left me with a huge respect for endings and for assisting people, as I am able, to experience that ending in the most helpful and most healthy way possible.

I’ve watched cancer kids rejoice that one more vacation was accomplished before the disease took over – or a graduation, or the start of kindergarten.  I’ve seen families start to process their time with their children as a GIFT – a gift of all the days and hours they’ve had – instead of having life stolen from them.  I’ve wrapped up babies who’s little hearts have stopped beating and let mommies and daddies hold them until they can feel their goodbye are complete enough to make the next step.  I’ve been present when we tell parents a baby so young, born so early,  just couldn’t survive, and we are amazed it survived those first 48 hours – and it must have been because he knew what wonderful parents he had.  I can still hear a deep, strong voice reading the Bible to his 24 week gestation son in his last hours.  We all drew strength from that voice – especially the baby.  His vital signs changed when his Daddy read to him, and hung on a little longer while they had that time together.

On a personal note, those experiences like the ones above, prepared me for a couple of my own.  I’ve talked to a Youth Group on the night of the death of one of their own, about how we will still celebrate graduation – and Adam’s life – and how we will celebrate those last great moments with him and for him as we move ahead and keep him alive in us.  And, most preciously, I’ve bent down and kissed my grandmother while she took her last breaths.  As I kissed her, and hugged her, I told her that I owed so much of what I had become to her and the wonderful, beautiful things she had taught me to do and to be.  I put my tiny baby son up next to her and let him lay in the hospital bed with her.  I had watched my daughters just hours before bring her a photo for Mother’s Day and sing a song they had learned at preschool for her.  She told them she loved them, and they, having the honor of knowing their Mamaw Jackson, told her and loved her also.  She was buried with that photo.

I will never say I enjoy the experience of death – but I cannot say that I fear it.  I revel in it’s beauty and in the peace that comes after we fully love and fully engage ourselves and fully connect.  And in that most primitive of connections, we, God’s people, share also the ending, with help and strength from Him and through those he has placed with us.

The Funk is Out – the Funk is On!

My blog stats and my recent posts reflect the chaos of my life.  I’m just getting little blibs in between the life treadmill I seem to be on.  But it is happy chaos, the chaos of positive change, of better times, of getting rid of the Funk! 

For those of you that read or have read regularly, you know about my recent depression, termed by some of my loyal readers as “the Funk.”  You’ve encouraged me, joined me, commiserated with me, and rejoiced with me as I’ve gone through these recent months of de-funking.  (Note:  you must be very careful when typing that word many times 🙂 

I am now proud to say that FUNK is out the door and we are now moving and grooving and getting our own new Funk on as we adjust to job and schedule changes.  It’s fast.  It’s furious.  And we Houks are rising to the challenge.  When I can sit down to think and type more at the same time, I’ll share the color-coded schedule, the flexible Houkhouse helper we’ve hired, and the crazy way we’ve managed Steve’s new 1.5  hour commute or Out of Town (whichever you choose to call it) training schedule for his new job along with my nightshift work.  Add to that about 4 Pampered Chef shows, some Stampin up workshops, upcoming Medieval Day and volunteering at school, teaching some community classes, transporting for cheerleading clinic/try-outs, upcoming May Fest,  on-call at the birthing center, plus everyday life as an almost single-parent for the next month or so… and what you’ve got is a modern day miracle that the card house hasn’t fallen.  Talk about bringing you out of a depression.  Who has time for depression? 

My energy to keep going is fueled by some even better f-words: faith, family, and friends.

My faith had to get bitterly honest as we struggled to make ends meet and hubby looked so hard for a job.  As I’ve proven many times before, I had to get so broken to really be able to give control over to God.  I’m not good at just handing it.  I just have to become so tired and worn and almost mad that I finally just function so little that I’m giving control over by doing nothing.  Really nothing.  Sitting in a depressed funk.  Finally telling God I’m not sure he’s reallyl listening and it’s getting just a tad hard to have the faith I’d like to have.  Honest prayer.  Hard, hard words to say out loud.  Lots of tears.  Then, when I’ve really released my death grip on the control, God swoops in(or really he doesn’t have to swoop, he’s was there all along) and takes the reins.  Some may say my doubt was faith diminishing.  I will argue any day that it’s these kinds of experiences that are faith building.  God has once again taken care of us in so many ways, and so much more than we can imagine or deserve.  You better believe I’ve got faith.  I’m going to try just keeping the grip on the faith, and not so much on the control.  I’ll let you know how that goes.

Friends, including you online pals, have prayed for us, loved us, supported us, and made sure the Houk ship didn’t sink.  Through that friend network, Steve ended up with too many jobs at one point (how refreshing), and we ended up with what we’ve called the “Houkhouse Helper” to get us through working nights, early mornings, out of town trips, and the whole she-bang.  The good news is I never had to look far.  It’s kind of like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz – it was there all the time.  We’ve found that when you really love and are really loved back and have a fundamental value that believes God’s people must help take care of each other, the possibilities are endless. 

My family is my saving grace.  This family we have created is the heart of the issue.  It’s the core of what we do here on earth.  It’s the number one priority and goal and all the rest has to cascade down from there.  And preferrably, cascade down in a nice order with good attitudes and a do-able schedule, remembering all the while that God has given us the great big job of taking care of these wonderful creatures he let us give birth to and maintaining and nurturing the blessing and charge he gave us called a marriage.  Big, big jobs.  Important enough to keep the trash cans and vacuuming looking small and the overall mission looking large.  That’s the way it should be. 

My family has held me up most by doing nothing special other than sharing our lives together.  Some of my favorite recent memories are ones I want to share: 

• Brady wet the bed last night.  I didn’t even feel like screaming.  He actually was sleeping with Keely and he wet on her.  Oops.  Even she didn’t scream too loud or too long.  When they got up at 3:30 am, I was just excited to see them.  In a time of rushed schedules, I was thankful for a minute or two to see those little faces and be able to help.  Everyone got cleaned, kept warm, and we climbed into a new bed to snuggle.  Brady didn’t want to share me, but he settled for super-gluing himself to me, nose to nose, until he went back to sleep.  I managed to sneak a hand out and Kee fell asleep holding my hand. 
• Mar’s trying out for cheerleader.  She’s growing up, and growing beautiful right before my eyes.  While practicing tonight, two goofy little boys thought they would take their shirts off and then practice, too.  Throw in the dog and you’ve got a three-ring circus in the front yard.  The neighbors loved it.  I laughed and smiled a lot.
• “Mommy, you ‘da best Mommy in the worwld.”  All that for fixing grilled cheeses and a visit to the public library.  Ahh, greatness.
• Two little boys together= ridiculous silliness.  Uncontrollable giggling, about nothing.  Just try being grumpy. 
• Brady asked me to dance and the song was “Fergilicious” (I think).  He didn’t want to just groove a little.  He wanted me down by him, holding on to each other.  I complied and showed some of my best moves.  It turned into a family dance party.  Mar was embarrassed, Keely impressed, and the boys – just silly snakes as always.  For the record, this Momma can still dance – even though her 12 year old might beg to differ.

And many, many more reminders of how lucky and blessed we truly are.  More to do now and more to share later. 

Quick Words

I’ve got a whole list of ideas of things to sit down and write about – but this post is not one of those.  This is a simple “I’m Okay” post to let my concerned and extremely caring fellow bloggers know that I haven’t posted in a few days for a really good reason – spending too much time getting back on our feet.  Ahh, relief.  The end of the funk is near.  Light at the end of the tunnel.  Sunny skies are starting to look sunny again.  I’m not spending all my time playing webkinz. 

Steve accepted a job offer he really wanted on Friday afternoon and went to get all the specifics rolling today.  I just got up after working my night shift, so I’ll have more details on that later.  HALLELUJAH!  He had also been working at some wonderful part-time opportunities, so we’ve been progressing steadily for a few weeks now. 

Our tax return came!  My home-based businesses really help out so it was a big return by our standards and it allowed us to get caught up! 

Brady remains potty-trained.  Harper hasn’t cried at kindergarten in weeks.  Keely’s working on her anger, maybe making some improvements, but has the largest heart you’ve ever seen regardless.  Marlee is still very pre-teen, but TALKS to us easily.  I mean really talks.  Tells us what is going on, what worries her, shares her feelings, etc.  Something’s going right there. 

Work is great.  I have a new primary baby I’ll refer to as J-bug (her mom gave me permission to do that).  She just crossed the 3 pound line at 5 weeks old.  She’s precious and my work with her and her sweet family is very rewarding, sometimes quite challenging. 

So I have no complaints, only blessings.  Progress.  As in the past, it has taken me completely handing over control to God to get here.  And I don’t hand it over easily.  He basically has to pry it out of my hands for me to really see that I have to be willing to be faithful and open to possibilities I might not have considered.  Once again hope and grace have swooped in and made us realize how absolutely loved and blessed we are. 

Our friend who attempted suicide a few weeks ago (see Truth Hurts) tried it again last week.  He didn’t succeed, but his family is tearing apart.  His marriage can’t survive this one.  Folks we love are in crisis.  They need our prayers and attention. 

For all of you who shared your struggles too, perhaps my slow, steady progress and those crucial baby steps can remind you that we are all in this together and that there are brighter times ahead. 

The Houkhouse now moves forward to use our flexibility and creativity again to accomodate new schedules, a new job, an new routine, and new challenges, struggles, and blessings together.  I couldn’t pick a great group of folks to share it with. 

Baby Steps

Knowing I’m a mom, one might imagine this post is about some sweet little memory of my precious kiddos learning to take their first steps.  Think again.  This post is about mental health – a topic that in my lifetime has become more accepted and easier to talk about over the years.  Specifically, this post is about our attempts to acheive and sustain good, stable mental health in the hectic chaos in which we live. 

One of my oldie-but-goodie favorite movies is What About Bob? starring Bill Murray and Richard Dreyfuss.  In a nutshell (please pardon the pun) , it’s about a crazy psych patient who turns the tables and drives his succesful and arrogant psychiatrist right off the deep end.  One of the basic parts of the plot is Dr. Leo Marvin’s (Dreyfuss) new best-seller entitled Baby Steps, which he “gives” to the obsessive-compulsive barely functional Bob (Murray) for guidance.  He, of course, gives it to him at the billable charge of $29.95, which I’m positive that insurance didn’t cover even then. 

It’s a comedy and it’s hilarious.  Bob Wiley grasps at any attempt for therapy that he can and hangs on for dear life.  Therefore, he begins “baby stepping” through life.  He baby steps out the office door, down the elevator, and even on a bus to chase the good doctor on his family vacation.  The storyline is made to be laughable, but the over-simplistic concept of baby steps has offered me some personal assistance this week. 

I shared recently with hubby that the key to a healthy mental outlook for me seems to be staying caught up.  That is, keeping up with deadlines, housework, appointments, dinner, baths, and other basic life functions.  Once I get a little behind, I’m prone to let it bother me.  A little further behind and I start shutting down.  Instead of thinking “Yikes!  I better not let things pile up anymore,” I start attempting to ignore them.  I walk around rooms that have laundry piled up.  I close the door to the dirty bathroom.  I just become kind of incapable of jumping in there to fix it.  So, I get overwhelmed, depressed, and in a bit of the funk I’ve been recently exploring. 

That’s how I get there.  Now…how do I get out?  On Friday, I was awake and functional for a total of about 4-5 hours that day.  The entire day!  That’s from about 7am until 8am Saturday morning.  Simply not acceptable.  I don’t have the luxury of enough time to get it all done in a regular day, and definitely not to sit and wallow in it.  I’ve been open about it.  I’ve shared with my hubby and my friends/support network.  I’ve blogged about it and really, I’ve faced it.  Next step – change it – freaking do something about it, girl!  Okay, so I’ve kicked my ownself in the butt now. 

It was early, early Saturday morning that I thought about the Bob movie.  It made me chuckle.  Then, it made me think.  Why couldn’t something that simple help?  It was certainly worth a try. 

While lying on the couch watching TV Land reruns, I started thinking of what baby steps would work for me.  Trying not to avoid the obvious, the giant (and I do mean giant) stack of laundry literally facing me was probably a good starting point.  I had asked Steve to move it all to one place so we could at least see what we were facing.  A trip to the dining room to add to those loads to those in the den, plus a fresh one from the dryer, suddenly yielded a mound of somewhere between 7-10 loads of clean clothes.  CLEAN!  I know it sounds crazy.  I should rejoice at clean clothes, but the scoop is that if they aren’t folded almost immediately, then they pile up also and they really aren’t much good even if clean in a big mountain.  Digging to the bottom of a mountain for clean underwear is not healthy functioning and does not support sound mental health. 

I remembered a quality comment to my recent post from my blogging buddy Joni , which I’ve quoted before, but is good enough to quote again:

 ”I would have days where I’d literally wake up and negotiate myself out of bed. I’d think, “ok, in the next 60 seconds, all I have to do is put my feet on the floor. For the next 60 seconds, all I have to do is get up and go to the bathroom.” And step by step I could get going.” 

Putting Joni and Dr. Leo Marvin’s advice together, I took on the character of Bob and came up with a baby step to get me off that couch.  10 pieces of laundry folded would be a baby step.  Just 10 pieces.  It was a start, a baby step.  I actually folded 12.  It became kind of a game.  Socks, if matched, did, in fact, count as 2 pieces.  Washclothes and little items counted, too.  If I just pulled the 10 off the top of the stack, I’d get a random enough sample that plenty of little tiny “freebies” were included.  I did that first 12 and had a Diet Coke.  I came back and did 15 more pieces.  10 was my goal, again, but 15 was exceeding expectations.  The adrenaline was starting to move a little.  Now the stack of clean laundry actually looked like a stack.  I decided to focus on that clean stack and only pull from the mound, not dwell on or analyze it.  Baby steps.  I even used that corny phrase Bob Wiley did and repeated “baby stepping through the laundry” as my sort of mantra for this project.  I took a rest, I did some computer time, and in between each I made myself fold 10 or more pieces of laundry.  Three-fourths of the laundry got completed with my baby-stepping.  When Steve awakened to find that much done, his eagerness to help out increased and it was soon all folded.  We have yet to put it away, but we did get all the kids packed and off to see the grandparents with CLEAN laundry.  We’ll baby step through putting it away later tonight. 

Former youth-groupers and dear, dear friends (read:family) Kate, visitor from the North (Boston), and Ariel, my writing advisor, came for dinner last night.  We all talked a little about our own mental health and what we do when we are down.  We shared awesome chuckles about my Bob baby-stepping method and then we all proceeded to try it the rest of the night, until we put the actual movie on for viewing.  We baby-stepped those dishes to the kitchen, baby-stepped the food into the fridge, and planned our baby-steps for this week.  While it may be true that misery loves company, I think it’s more true that people just long for the companionship of good friends.  Figuring out how we can embrace, share, and conquer our own individual struggles is an end result of that kind of friendship. 

And I continue baby-stepping through today with my regards to Bob Wiley and my good friends.  I just baby-stepped turning on the dryer and unloading the dishwasher before I allowed myself this blog time.  When the dryer goes off, I’ll have 10 new pieces to fold and yet another baby step will hopefully keep me going. 

 

Overwhelming Support and Other Natural Anti-Depressants

Wow friends, thanks for the insight, the ideas, and the support you all offered through those comments to my last post.   My wheels have been starting to turn very slowly, and writing that post was as therapeutic as it gets.   I started typing comments to address what I learned and gained from your comments and I found I  had too much to say, so I decided to just go ahead and post my rambling thoughts here.   I’ve inserted some of the comments I’m responding to. 

I love the way you all related in such a personal way. like this:

 “You know, I was doing okay until I got to the bottom of your post but when I read “Hubby … It must be hard to have your biggest fan be such a pain in the butt sometimes. I have un-dying faith in you …-.” That’s when the tears came! UGH! I can so relate to that statement. I know that I’m a pain in the butt to my husband sometimes (maybe a lot of the time?!?!) and we’ve been through some very bad times but just like you said, I love him so much and wouldn’t trade my life with him and my kids for anything”

 Well, we are in good company, because I cried writing the post, and it started a nice long cry that makes you need an eye-makeup artist by the next morning.  That’s okay.  It was good.   It was needed.  Hubby read it and it helped him understand me.  I must agree with momlovesbeingathome who wrote that comment.  Admitting that weakness when I need to support him the most was a really difficult piece of that post.  That is when I really lost it – when I realized I just wasn’t capable of being the support I wished I was. 

Joni – thanks for sharing those ideas about functioning. 

 “I would have days where I’d literally wake up and negotiate myself out of bed. I’d think, “ok, in the next 60 seconds, all I have to do is put my feet on the floor. For the next 60 seconds, all I have to do is get up and go to the bathroom.” And step by step I could get going.”

Those very specific examples made me relate to an even more difficult time and brought back some more memories and tears – but healthy ones.  Those thoughts initiated a conversation between Steve and I and both of us remembering, “we’ve been through worse”. 

I appreciate all the prayers and hopefulness tremendously. In all your individual ways, you offered love, camaraderie, support, personal insight, inspiration, even a compliment or two, and concrete ideas.  I love it – thanks. 

 “Writing is a great start, getting out and breathing some fresh air. Wake up in the morning and create your day, visulaize what you want to happen. Find someone else in a funk and cheer them up, can’t stay in a funk when you have to cheer someone else up”— tobeme

“I too am going through a rough time as well, a lot of things you wrote hit close to home for me. I just pray that soon I can see a sunny sky! I will be praying for you as well!” — lifelemons

“As always, you have provided me with great clairity and inspiration. Perhaps you can find comfort and support knowing how much you always inspire and help me. I dedicated my post today to you.” — onehappymom

For those of you that are currently in a “funk” like the one I’m giving it my all to get out of, or those of you that are facing life challenges as well, gosh, I appreciate you being so open.  I love this blog thing and now we do have a group that can help hold each other up.  There’s strength in numbers and I’ll think of and pray for you as you have so generously offered to do for me.

“Things often look bleek. But remember TOMOROW is another day.  ”         — turtlesbirds

” Here is to your husband getting the right job at the right time – the job he is meant to have – and to you being able to turn the corner on this funk.”      — mamadoggylove

And, dragonmommie – I am certainly nursing myself tonight as you suggested.

” I do not try to deny it is happening. I plan the time for myself to be depressed, if that makes any sense. I will spend a weekend or a few days at the most to nurse myself… when I can feel sorry for myself. I think we need that time to step back from life”

 I’m going to get out of the house and play a little bunco with other females.  You are so, so right that we have to take time out.  If not, the time in becomes much less effective. 

And, one last thought regarding Joni‘s words about raw prayer: 

” This sounds trite but prayer helps me. But it has to be raw genuine thoughts. Not the shoulda’s. You know the kind “God I’m scared we won’t be provided for but I know I should be grateful…” When I come clean to God in prayer, my ability to trust him grows. Don’t know how that works. I’ve actually said I didn’t trust that he would provide even though I’ve seen it before. And then asked for more faith or a glimpse of what He’s planning for peace of mind. “

WOW – that was deep and so painfully truthful.  I’ve kept my “Suzy Sunshine” act up, even with my prayer.  Not last night — after reading your post, I realized I haven’t even allowed myself to go to those raw, even ugly thoughts with God.  But it is soooo cleansing to admit that.  To say, “God, I’m trying to believe and have faith here and so far there’s nothing!  ”  Being that honest – woah.  I went to sleep with those kinds of prayers last night and I have to tell you, I woke up with a brighter outlook.  Today was a new today, and tomorrow is another brand new one, too. 

Peace, love, blessings, gratitude, and the strength to hold up through working it all out to you all.

Where Have I Been?

Where have I been?  What an interesting question.  This was the question posed to me by a newly-found blogging buddy,  Mamadoggylove, when leaving a comment on my site.  And for that comment, I owe her a thank you.  She made me think, and I appreciate it.  She was kind enough to say she missed reading about my family.  Quite frankly, I’ve missed writing about them. 

So, where have I been? 

Tired?  Yes, but that’s usual. 

Overwhelmed?  Maybe. 

A bit depressed?  Perhaps. 

Back in 1996, during my several year stint in nursing management, I attended a fantastic seminar on leadership.  The speaker referred to a scenario in which, with the million things at any one time occupying one’s mind, the individual just “zones out”, so to speak.  He alluded to this happening during significant conversations, meetings, and other such times that were utterly inconvenient.  He advocated an approach of being very straightforward and basically stating, “I was gone there for a moment.  Here’s where I’ve been (if known), and now I’m back.”  Small world, I just did a quick search and found him on the internet.  He’s a pretty big speaker  it seems.  His name is Ben Bissell and I have never forgotten the above and all other kinds of leadership advice he presented.  Check him out if ever you should have the chance.   If anyone knows anyone that wants to offer me even a fraction of what he makes to come and present, you can bet I’d be all over it. 

So, heeding his advice, I’m here to say “I’ve been gone. ” Not really sure where.  In some sort of vague fog.  It’s the fog where wonderful, happy, beautiful things in life are going on all around, but there’s still this gnawing going on in me.  It’s the irony of watching my kids and the joy and energy they hold, and knowing I should be nothing short of thrilled, yet all the while, still bothered.  It reminds me of the post partum blues. 

Steve’s job search is weighing heavy on all of us.  Probably, most significantly on him, but certainly on me as well.  A friend at work said the other night, “I’m sure you could use a break.”  That may be true, but I don’t have any complaints.  I’m not really working extra.  I still love my job.  I’m right now on my 7 days in a row off that constitute my normal schedule.  But maybe it’s just the pressure, the knowing, the understanding that the money’s gone before it ever even arrives. 

Steve’s job currently is finding a job.  It could be a full-time job — too bad it doesn’t pay.  It seems that most companies now have a minimum of a 2-3 tiered interview process – some 4!  Add in between that online or written assessments, intelligence and personality tests, and the 1/2 day type “retreats” where they put him through various or group interviews, scenarios, and learning experiences.  It feels like you have to promise them a first-born child just to get an entry level job.  And although my first-born is a sassy adolescent right now, we’ve decided to keep them all.  🙂 

A few weeks ago, we were certain he had the perfect job.  He was through 3 interviews, a written assessment, a test resembling the SAT, and an hour’s worth of some test revolving around arranging “I’d rather…” statements.  They had even given him a start date.  We were gearing up to send him to Atlanta for training.  I was ready for it.  Even energized.  I had a plan mentally put together and I was all ready to put it into place.  And then, the call didn’t come.  And then the letter came.  Something about “selecting other candidates.”  In several weeks of interviewing, this job was the one he and I both felt the best about.  It was the best fit, and one I could see him excelling at.  Receiving that rejection was a blow.  It wasn’t just the job, it was the fact that our gut instincts seemed to be askew.  It really kind of messed with our reality and made us re-think our ability to accurately judge situations.  It took a chunk of our optimism. 

So, I find myself sitting here at home doing nothing.  Or worrying, or sleeping when I should be awake and vice-versa, or some combination of the above.  I find myself getting high scores on Webkinz World.  And while my kids appreciate the Webkinz cash, it’s a real sign something is off when your kids are fighting with you for computer time with their game.  The only real cooking I’ve done in a couple of weeks is that same salad I posted about last.  And I LOVE cooking. 

 In the past, if Steve and I were at home together, it was rare, and usually could be some sort of enjoyable day.  Now, we are in each other’s way.  Sharing one computer.  Micro-managing the extreme lack of funds we have.  We are tired of bumping into each other in the hallway.  It’s not quality time.  It’s frustrating time.  It’s “We’re aware that something is amiss” time.  Okay, who will change that next yucky diaper and did you move the load of laundry over, etc, etc, etc?  Routine, monotony, basic function.  Survival. 

I obsess about the phone ringing and it being a yes or no about the next interview.  I just answered 3 calls while typing this post.  One was from a potential employer.  I turned around to call Steve on his cell phone and couldn’t remember his cell phone number.  Did I mention another red flag that my functioning might not be up to par?  I wrote a post a few weeks ago about getting it together and I’m a little scared to go back and evaluate how many of the signs I meet right now to prove that life is a tad (if not more) out of balance. 

And so, here’s where I am.  Right here.  I’m right here trying really hard to keep my chin up.  I looking around and knowing I should feel blessed and feeling guilty when I give in to it and feel overcome with it all.  I’m tired of robbing Peter to pay Paul from the bank account and wondering when we can afford discount haircuts and prescription co-pays.  (If you happen to be one of my family members reading this – NO we aren’t going to lose the house or have to sell the kids and we don’t want to borrow money, yada, yada.)  I’m just venting. 

Today, I’ve decided to come out fighting, at least a little.  I at least decided to deal with my writer’s block.  It wasn’t really writer’s block, though, it was more like Function Block.  There was plenty to write about.  I just didn’t want to do it.  And so sitting here right now typing is a start.  I found a few other “starts” to which I wish to pay tribute:

• Once again thanks to mamdoggylove, whose concern through a comment kicked my butt right back into wanting to write something.
• My little Brady has been the little man rising to the occasion, taking care of us all, but especially his Mommy.  The kisses I have gotten have been too numerous to count.
• Stampin’ – ah, stampin.  Everyone needs a good hobby and a stress relief.  Thanks Andi for having a Stamp Camp I could attend.  And thanks to Kaytee, Deb, and Pam – some stampin’ buddies who always make me smile.  We all need time away and friends that make us smile.  These stampin’ projects are about the most productive thing I’ve done in a few weeks!  (oh yeah, and that damn green salad that is the only thing I’ve seemed to turn out of my kitchen 🙂 .  If you don’t know stampin’, just click and visit.  If you are local, we can stamp together – just let me know.  And if not, find a demonstrator in your area. 
• An odd, mixed blessing.  A recent interaction with a former employer attempted to open up some old wounds.  I was hurt deeply and the stability of my family threatened by this person.  The good news:  I only thought about picking the scab off this injury. I refused to let that wound re-open and instead, used it as a needed confirmation that I have the power to make decisions in my life that work best to support my faith and my family and my functioning.  I didn’t enjoy the interaction, but do appreciate the reminder.  It’s also a validation that my current place is much happier and that good friends are there to support you when needed.  TR, JB, and KC, plus all my new-found friends in my new unit – thanks simply for your presence in my life.
• Sunshine and warmer weather – oh how I’ve needed you! 
• My kids love me no matter how dysfunctional I am or how much time I take away from their computer.  Their ability to step-up when needed is amazing.
• And hubby.  Hubby who is making every effort and working so hard to get things settled so he can support his family.  It must be hard to have your biggest fan be such a pain in the butt sometimes.  I have un-dying faith in you – I just need to get myself together.  I wish I had more strength to offer right now, but I still would pick this life with you over and over again.  God could give me no greater gift on this earth than you and our children.

I’d love to hear from some of you all what kinds of things work for you when you are fighting the depression with all you’ve got.  Maybe something we share can benefit one another, so please, do tell. 

I’ll close today with a quote that continues to hang by my computer and a hope and prayer that we can all remember this when needed. 

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens;  but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us. “

       — Helen Keller