June 18, 2008

I don't care if it's half full or empty, I'm just glad I have a cup

Things that make me feel good:
  • Wearing spring dresses and skirts
  • Kurt's smile when he sees me in the spring dresses and skirts
  • Keeping up in a tough exercise class even though I'm worn out and drenched in sweat
  • The weight on my body of a child sleeping in complete trust within my arms
  • Coloring, writing and reading, sometimes all at once.
  • That first moment of potential and excitement that flows over me when I step inside a library and know that my holds are in!
  • Receiving handwritten letters and cards in the mail- so much better than email!
  • Sending cards, too. Just taking a moment out of everything to surprise someone with some heartfelt appreciation
  • Listening to relaxing quiet music
  • Clean sheets when I go to bed at night
  • Family walks on summer evenings

June 16, 2008

Rainy Day Blues

It's June. It should be sunny and breezy and the air should be filled with the hanging scent of over-ripe blossoms and...

Well. "Should" gets me just about nowhere, so I suppose I'll just toss that out the window, right into the foggy, rainy, cold day that it is. It's Colorado, folks, what can I say? We like our weather capricious here, you never know what you're going to see when you open your eyes in the morning.

In that sense, I feel a strong affinity with this unpredictable weather, having been decidedly unpredictable myself in the recent past months. As for this week, I've been blue. Melancholy. Dreary. Glum. Morose. Gloomy. (I believe I've mentioned in the past that I have a thesaurus and I'm not afraid to use it.)

All morning, I grumbled at the gray skies outside, hissing under my breath, "This is not helping me! Go away! I need some sunshine, dammit! Don't make me come out there and... and... and... OK, I don't know what I'd do, but it'd be rough, mister, so don't make me come out there! I want my June-tastic rays of light and I want them NOW!"

Of course, talking to myself, however discreetly, in a public coffee shop doesn't exactly win me any sanity medals. Not that I'm looking for approval, but it'd be nice if maybe the whole coffeehouse community and all their cousins didn't find out how far from normal I actually fall most days.

There's all sorts of clinical definitions and qualifications and minimizations that the doctors like to use to describe me, but I'll sum it up for you a little more simply than that. I'm moody, y'all. I am downright erratic. We can take a positive view and call me whimsical, though on the other side of that coin, there's always aberrant.

In the past few months, I've been so unpredictable we had to start keeping a chart, seriously, a mood chart for the docs to hem and haw over. Doctors are very good at Hemming and Hawwing. And most of them love charts.

I knew I had finally found the right doctor when he, *gasp*, didn't even want to see my chart! His clinical mumbo-jumbo was practically understandable, even to little 'ol me, and his revolutionary treatment plan just about had me jumping for joy (if I had been feeling any joy, which I wasn't, but there was a definite scent of relief in the air). The plan? Get this poor girl off the pills that make her wacky, and get her onto ONE MEDICATION that will help her even out into average mid-life-stay-at-home-mom wackiness. You know, the acceptable kind.

The up side to all this is that my very, very, very rapid and unpleasant mood swings are slowing down. The down side? Well... I think I mentioned earlier? I feel blue, have for days now. I'm worn out and easily overcome and occasionally start crying at just about the weirdest moments possible.

BUT. There has to be a qualifier, right? I don't like it when I write these long depressing no-hope-life-sucks posts. Hate that. So, my qualifier is this: I am gloomy and weepy, yes, but I am not hopeless, I am not desperate, I am not lost. And, for me, that's really saying something. This little depression of mine right now is like a pathetic Yorkie compared to the Big Black Dog that was haunting my every step recently. Things are getting less extreme as my brain struggles for middle ground. That makes me feel hopeful. Weepy and gloomy and exhausted, but hopeful.

This mood will pass, just as this foggy, rainy day will lift, and then I'll feel better. And each time, the better parts will last longer and longer and eventually, God-willing and the creek don't rise, I will be (drum roll, please...) ME again. Maybe I'll even get to define "normal", won't that be fun? I haven't been it for so long that I think I'll need a whole new set of parameters should I ever get to it again.

So for now, I'm hanging in, hanging on to my Kleenex box, doing the simple chores that occupy my mind but require little effort (like posting on the blog, hahaha!), making sure my kids are safe and sound, (and reminding myself that this full-day daycare situation is helpful, necessary, and temporary, even though it feels terrible). I'm drinking decaf in the hopes that the flavor alone will kick in some Pavlovian endorphin rush to pull me out of this funk or at least wake me up a little.

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day- preferably a day where I have vast wells of energy and good intention to carry me through your wet-and-clamminess with a smile on my face.

Please?

June 11, 2008

Home

I never really miss my home until I have to be away from it for a long while. I get cabin fever a lot, wanting to go out, be somewhere else, see other people, do other things, break the mold. Turns out, no where else is half as nice and no one else is anywhere close to as great as my family. I'm saying it now, out loud to the wild world of the internets for all to hear and see: there will be no more unplanned departures away from this life that I love and the people in it.

Time to start over. Again.




June 03, 2008

The Hourglass

It's so unpredictable living in my own head. I feel like an hourglass, spilling sand, and I never know if I am filling up or emptying out until something flips me over.

Today I got flipped, who know why or by what. The goodwill, positive thoughts and hopefulness of the past few days where just one side filling up and now.... FLIP. I'm empty. I almost cracked, I really did.

After I dropped the girls at school I had a vast and nearly uncontrollable urge to go home and be alone, possibly in the closet in the dark ("with Clark", hahaa... thanks, Dr. Seuss). So I took my magic happy pill, my emergency happy pill, drove to the coffee shop and sat it out in public.

That's my worst fear, really, that I'll have a screaming meltdown in front of the whole world and everyone will stare and no one will understand (I don't even understand, right?) and someone will call the police or something. The fire department? Get that girl out of that crazy tree?

So I sat. I typed. I talked online to a friend and tried like hell to laugh it off, find the funny, GET OVER IT. When the crying shakiness wouldn't stay at bay I called a friend with experience in these things, cried a little in a public forum, and now I am feeling better. It's sort of like when you have to throw up and you HATE throwing up so you try and try not to... but then eventually you do and you always feel better afterwards even though it was gross and awful.

So now I'm a bit better. Not positive and excited and hopeful, no. More exhausted and diminished and frustrated and even a little bitter. But not on the edge. And my friend is coming to have a coffee with me and we will talk and understand each other and hopefully that will push some sand more quickly though the glass, filling me up again.