depression – My Forties Reboot

Staycation Wake Up

So, I wrote a staycation post back at the end of June about how stressed I was and how I really wanted and needed a vacation. I had never needed one so badly. I wrote about all the things I wanted and planned to do, but of course didn’t and mostly rested instead.

To give some perspective, in the last year or so, I have dealt with the remnants of covid crap, work stress, a lot of overtime, the death of my grandfather, the approval and purchase process of buying my own home, my dad having a heart attack and multiple heart related hospital visits, my parents getting covid and almost losing my dad, my middle son’s school schedule, a minor bout of covid (for the second time), demo of my upstairs to replace the flooring, every piece of which was defective and required ordering new stuff, and spending money I didn’t really have, a car accident and managing my depression and dealing with my son’s and preparing for my middle son to graduate and go off to college. There has been a lot going on.

I was enjoying my staycation, doing very little, when, On June 30th I woke up to a hell of a surprise. The right side of my face didn’t feel right, kind of like when you go to the dentist, get shot up with a bunch of Novacaine and your face starts to wake up. It felt cold and I couldn’t move my right side facial muscles. My first thought was Bell’s Palsy because my sister had it a few months prior, and my symptoms were the same. The scary part of that is that a stroke can start out with those symptoms. I didn’t think I had a stroke because other than the facial muscles, I felt okay. I did have pain behind my ear and experienced some mild dizziness when I tried to get out of bed that morning. My 18 year old was pretty concerned and insisted that I should go get it checked out. My co-workers/friends were also very concerned and told me to go to the doc. So, begrudgingly, I went.

I went to an urgent care type of clinic since they take walk-ins. The PA took one look at my face and told me she couldn’t diagnose me (don’t have the proper imaging equipment) and that I needed to go to the ER right away. She offered to call me an ambulance. I had driven there, and the hospital was about 2 miles away, so I opted to drive. When I arrived at the hospital, they were waiting for me and whisked me back to examine me and rule out a stroke. There was a team within about 2 minutes that went to work preparing me for an MRI. It was a little surreal to have that whirlwind of activity going on around me. The doc was pretty sure it was Bell’s Palsy but they did an MRI anyway just to be safe, and that confirmed the diagnosis. They immediately started me on prednisone, and I was able to go home.

I started researching Bell’s Palsy and found that stress can activate a dormant virus and the inflammation from that can mess with the facial nerve, causing temporary paralysis of one side of the face. It could take two weeks to start to see gradual improvement which is just about exactly how long it took. And gradual it has been. As the muscles started to work, I went through ear pain, pain behind the ear, and excruciating pain in my right eye. As the muscles start to communicate with the nerve again, it can create some “discomfort”. I felt like there was a sharp spike in my eye–it hurt to open it, it hurt to close it (I tried to hold it closed since the lid would not close yet) and eye drops wouldn’t touch the pain. I ended up having to call in sick at work–the only time in the process that I did. My facial muscles are still weak. It is most noticeable when I eat because I cann0t use my mouth and lip muscles the way I need to to clear the food from a fork or spoon, and I cannot whistle anymore. My hearing is like listening to someone speak through water. That is getting better, but it is not back to normal and may not ever be.

The whole experience was a bit of a wake-up call. My work/life balance was crap. I wasn’t taking care of myself the way I needed to. I have been tired all the time and I put on weight. I wasn’t taking my medication the way I needed to. So much was wrong, and it could have been so much worse. A stroke could have been devastating. Bell’s Palsy was certainly not comfortable, and it was definitely inconvenient, but I am thankful that is what it was. I can see how important taking care of myself really is and I have been taking some small steps to improve my situation–Eating better, eating less and moving more. I still love Coke Zero and that will take a lot more effort to ditch, but for now, I will keep taking small steps that benefit my health. I have a long way to go, but I am on my way.

Depression is a Lying B*tch

Warmer weather of coming summer is upon us and I have mixed feelings about that. I love warmer weather, but I prefer the comfort of hoodies and jeans. I prefer the coverage of hoodies and jeans. I see women my size and larger rocking their confidence in the same things fit women wear and they look stunning. Sexy. But I can’t bear to look at myself in those things. I can’t bear to imagine myself in those things. Know why? Because life can be a bit of a bitch and Depression is a lying, ugly bitch.

On the tougher days, Depression sneaks in and winds her way into my brain and tells me lies. Lies that have been told to me my whole life. That I am not good enough. I am not pretty enough. That I am not feminine enough. That I, the way I am, am not enough. I try to fight those lies, but, oh my gawd, Depression can be loud, stubborn and pushy. She brings up every flaw I have. Every flaw I have ever had. Every trauma inflicted that told me I wasn’t enough. Lately, there have been a lot of tougher days.

A childhood steeped in verbal, emotional and physical abuse. A mother plagued by her own abusive past that didn’t have the tools or skills to deal with a willful child and repeated the hurts and traumas. Being told “I don’t want you anymore.” Not worthy of love, not enough, too much to deal with.

An angry child of divorce that no one even tried to understand and instead tried to correct (both physically and verbally) and criticize and diminish. I didn’t do things the way a girl is “supposed” to. Cut my hair, criticize my taste, tell me my clothes make me look like a balloon, call me other names for fat “as a joke”, my interests are a waste of my time and you will choose “her” over me. Not enough, not girly enough, too fat, not worthy of protecting, unlovable.

Bullied for being smart and awkward and not pretty and wearing glasses. Nerd (which is no longer derogatory, but old applications stick), walking dictionary, four eyes, ugly, soooo not stylish no matter how hard I tried (quite pathetic really), weird, fat (a horrid size 7) completely invisible to the opposite sex when they were not mocking me.

Sexual trauma, assault, rape. Damaged, broken, worthless. Feeling dirty. Lower than whale shit at the bottom of the ocean. Who could love the broken? Being teased that I was easy after my rape. Garbage.

Naive. Inexperienced. Being lied to and used to become someone’s ticket to America. Cheated on. Conceiving a child with said user. A means to an end. A piece of paper, a piece of ass, a piece of trash.

The constant criticism and judgment for being a single mother. Never wed. Slut. Easy. Trash. Whore. All those things unlovable, unworthy. Bad mother.

I got married to someone I thought loved me. Someone that could look past the damage, the hurts, the trauma and love me for me. What happened is that I might as well have been wallpaper for all the attention paid after marriage. Intimacy only took place upon my initiation. Years of passive rejection. The last 5 years celibate. Not worth the effort, unloved, unlovable.

Crushing on someone who seemed good, kind, funny and smart. He paid attention. He listened. I felt like I could have talked to him forever and not run out of things to say. He made me feel seen. Suddenly he stopped speaking to me (for the most part anyway), then he stopped responding to messages and stopped reading them. I drove myself crazy trying to figure out what I did wrong. I’m wrong. Not pretty enough? Not thin enough? Not good enough? Perhaps all of those things. Now I just kind of feel stupid and foolish. Because I still like him.

I have wonderful friends that are always trying to build me up, but Depression is fucking loud and intrusive. On the bad days, the rough days, she is in my face. Taunting me with words and images that hurt. She is relentless. There are so many wounds and so much damage. It is easier to hide it/me in baggy, full coverage unfeminine clothing. I want to hide the ugly. I want to be seen, but not seen if that makes any sense. Not all days are rough days though. I have some amazing days. Most of them are great and my medication does its job. Most days, those thoughts are kept at bay. But medication doesn’t “fix” the problem. It just makes it manageable. The trick is to figure out what WILL fix it. Or, if nothing else, finding someone who understands and can help me get through the bad days and celebrate, enjoy and appreciate the good ones.

For me, I think the first step is to shed the hoodie and wear something that doesn’t hide me. It is time to be brave. It is time to take steps that make me seen, even if it hurts in the beginning. It is time to close the wounds, heal and get comfortable with my scars. And it all starts with a shirt.

Happy New Year?

Well, 2020 wouldn’t have felt complete without a whopper of an ending so to finish it off right, we got covid. My kids were with their dad when he was asymptomatic and the day after he brought them back to me, he was under the weather. He didn’t think much of it until, on December 23rd, he woke up with no sense of taste or smell. Knowing that testing positive was likely just a matter of time, we quarantined and planned on doing so for 14 days. Our symptoms showed up on Christmas day and I got tested the day after.

Fatigue was the first visitor to show up without welcome. My youngest son and I both started with fatigue that had us sleeping anywhere between 12-18 hours per day. We were too tired to get up and get something to eat or drink. If we did get up and walk to the kitchen or bathroom, it would necessitate a nap upon our return to the couch and Netflix.

Fever wasn’t really bad, but it was bad enough that every time I would wake up from one of my many daily naps, I would be drenched in sweat. I would fall asleep feeling chilly and covered in a blanket and wake up a mess.

Body aches were the worst I have ever felt. Like the flu times ten. It hurt to be touched, even with the lightest touch. The weight of clothing draped over the skin hurt and finding comfort in any position was impossible.

My lungs burned every time I inhaled and I would cough when I exhaled. Finding a position to sleep in that did not initiate a coughing fit, was a challenge. I found that sleeping on the couch on my side would give me an angle that allowed for sleep with minimal coughing. When I actually made it to my bed, I would have to have a pile of pillows at my back to create the needed angle.

There were headaches, nausea, vomiting (only Aidan), lightheadedness, nasal congestion, much like a bad cold, and loopiness. Any activity at all would make my muscles burn like I had just worked out.

Most of our symptoms were gone by the time we were released from isolation. The day we were free to leave the apartment, we went to the grocery store for a few things and my walking speed was that of a snail, it took what felt like forever to get about 12 things and our efforts resulted in a much needed nap when we got home.

We were released January 5th and it has been 3 weeks since then and fatigue is still a thing. Not as bad, but bad enough to cause issues. I will wake up and feel motivated to do something and an hour later I am ready for a nap. Some days I feel close to normal and others where I have no desire to move. We are also feeling “off”. I don’t feel like myself, but I can’t pinpoint what is wrong or what doesn’t feel right. Aidan and I are both being treated for depression and the medication had us feeling normal and happy for the most part. It feels like covid undid what the medication corrected. We have continued to take our medication, but for Aidan, the apathy is back and I am overly emotional and reactive and then apathetic. Neither of us has any motivation to do what we love or what needs to be done. I have also acquired a case of the dumb. I occasionally have what I call “dumb” days normally, but I find that I am struggling with everyday things on my job that I have to really think about to be able to do them and when I call other agents for assistance, they point out the obvious.

We have been careful. We wear a mask, social distance, sanitize and wash our hands often. We still got sick. And while our case was pretty mild, it was straight up misery I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I was blessed to have friends check on us every day and deliver meals and instacart to deliver a few groceries a couple of times. I have a job that allows me plenty of sick time so the 2 weeks I had to take off were paid and I didn’t have to worry about how I would pay for rent or groceries.

There were a few things that were tremendously helpful in providing some comfort. 1. Rest. a ton of it. 2.aspirin for the aches (didn’t get rid of them, but did somewhat take the edge off. 3. A hot shower was everything. Nothing brought more relief than a long, hot shower. 4. Hydration. Drink as much as you can. On the days I was awake long enough to consume a semi decent amount of food and water, it made a huge difference in how I felt.

I have a super difficult time with giving myself time to heal and, quite frankly, I am near tears often because of the frustration of how long I have felt like this. I hear it can be months before I feel completely normal. I am struggling with that because I am a single mom with just my income and I can’t do my side gigs feeling like this so I am missing out on earning money I need. I know I will feel better, but I have no patience for that long of a wait. I hate this. It suuuuuuucks. Covid can go kick rocks. I am done with it.

Don’t be a twit

Don’t be a twit. That is what my friend told me. Don’t be a twit. If you need help, ask. You really are a twit about asking for help (yes, I know. I will drown before I will ask for it).

I love her for that.

Sometimes you just need someone to tell you something you already know but don’t want to acknowledge. She is the person that loves you enough to do just that. Let me explain.

This year has been rough to say the least. For everyone. In addition to the same shit everyone else is dealing with, I have had plenty of personal stuff piled on top of everything Covid related. In my past, I have dealt with depression. I know what it feels like when it starts creeping in. I have felt it coming and winding it’s way around my brain, stealing every bit of joy from me. I have been fighting it but after everything, it really is a losing battle, when fighting on your own.

Two months ago, my friend was working on making me masks and I went to her house to try the one she had completed to see if it was comfortable. She took one look at me and asked if I was okay. For the next two hours, I sat on her living room floor, bawled like a baby and poured everything out. I completely lost my shit and quite frankly, it was long overdue. This year has been challenging and it followed a very challenging 2019. Struggle has just been my season for what seems like forever. Anyway my friend, Kari, sat and listened without judgment and didn’t try to fix me. She did, however, tell me that I needed help. I already knew that, but denial and a fair amount of shame kept me from seeking it. I knew the signs. I have been here before. I would never shame anyone else, but somehow when it is me, I struggle with shame until my brain works right. I didn’t do anything wrong that caused me to have Hashimoto’s disease or Celiac disease, depression is no different. I didn’t do anything to earn that badge, but somehow it feels different.

I never see anyone. I talk to my coworkers on the phone (it seems I can fake happy really well), text friends and rarely see family. I have isolated myself. If you were to walk into my apartment, you would see the affects of my depression everywhere. That is why I never invite anyone over or let them in if they do stop by. Dishes are in the sink, my art supplies are everywhere. It is like a craft store barfed in my living room. Laundry stays in the basket after it exits the dryer, and stays there until we all dig out what we need. Bills are piled up. I pay them, but I have not had the energy to deal with the evidence. My situation has overwhelmed me and even now that I have my depression and anxiety under control (Thank you Lexapro), I am having trouble sorting out and cleaning up the chaos. I am still overwhelmed which will trigger the anxiety. I am not sure where to start. I no longer fluctuate between being fighting mad and crying all the time, but one or the other still happens on occasion. With cancer or some other medical issue there is usually presenting evidence so it is “real” to the rest of the world. When it comes to things like depression, if often appears to the rest of the world as though you just have a bad case of laziness. In reality, fatigue steals all of your energy and motivation so a lot of things go undone. I would describe the level of tired as walking through waist-deep tar and, while you can push it away from you, it pushes back in from the sides and that is every waking moment. It. Is. Exhausting.

And if dealing with my depression and anxiety wasn’t enough, my youngest son has been diagnosed with the same thing. My oldest son was too, when he was 15 (he is now 28). We saw the changes in his behavior but didn’t know what to do about it so we watched and prayed. Eventually he blew up and I took him to the doctor. On the suicide risk scale, he scored 98/100. When my youngest, who has always been a straight A student, was failing all his classes, we knew we couldn’t wait. I watch him like a hawk and bug the shit out of him about how he is feeling. I am now 8 weeks into my meds and he is about 3 weeks into his. I am feeling pretty great, other than being overwhelmed about where to start reversing the chaos I have created. My son genuinely laughed tonight and I wanted to cry.

To those of you that are struggling–

there is no shame in asking for help
Medicine can be such a godsend
So can therapy
Join a support group on facebook or some other social media where you can be heard, be supported and support others.
Talk to others who have been there.
Take it one day at a time. You can’t fix everything at once. Baby steps are steps.
It is not your fault. You didn’t do anything to deserve it. You are not being punished (that is one I struggle with) and you are not mired in sin/guilt (there some religious folks that like to use that one)
Don’t let your internal voice lie to you. Despite what it says, you are loved, you are worthy, you are important and you matter. I promise you. I know it may not feel that way, but it is true. The world is a better place with you in it.
Vent, cry or rage if you need to. Melting down on occasion is okay. Just don’t take up residence in that place.
Give yourself some grace. You will need it.

To those of you that know or love someone who is struggling–

Listen without judgement.
Don’t try to fix it. You can’t.
Just love them. Tell them you love them. Show them they matter.
They are not weak for seeking medication. You have no clue how strong they have to be to get through each day and each week without having a breakdown.
If you can help, please do, but don’t make a big deal out of it. Clean something, take them out for coffee, go for a walk with them. They will probably vehemently resist your efforts, but do it anyway. Help is so needed, even though most of us are ultra independent (thank you trauma)
Don’t be afraid of tears and super personal stuff. If someone comes to you and unloads, chances are they truly trust you. Please just suck up the discomfort.
Again, listen without judgement.
Don’t take offense if they don’t initiate conversation or return texts. It is not personal and they don’t do it on purpose. When you are exhausted and every thing, every obligation, every responsibility is swirling around in your face and your brain can’t sort it out, responding sometimes just takes too much. Keep trying.
Encourage them to get help.
Never give up on them. You being there for them might keep them from giving up on themselves or their situation.

If there is one thing that is needed in all this mess, it is grace. We all need it. And transparency. If we all treated mental illness the same way we treat disease, more people wouldn’t have the fear of judgement and they would be far more likely to seek help. With as much as we know about mental illness, it amazes me that people still view it differently than any other medical ailment. It’s not.

Tired of the Chaos

I am overwhelmed. I am bone tired. I am kind of sad. I am struggling.

There is a lot coming at me at once and there has been for a while. Constantly being in the line of fire while having no one for support, no one to lean on and no one to share the load, everything gets really, really heavy. And right now I feel kind of like I am suffocating under the weight of a giant boulder.

Earlier this year, my ex and I had our 16 year old son evaluated for ADHD because, as smart and capable as he is, he was facing some challenges. I have always known he is different. He sees things differently. He responds differently. He learns differently. We knew that was probably the diagnosis, but we had said for years that we didn’t want our kids medicated. We always felt kids were over-medicated and we didn’t want to be “those” parents. Everything came to a head earlier in the school year and to give our son a fighting chance, we (me, my ex, my son and our doctor) decided medication was probably the best option.

We had him evaluated and made sure the school got a copy of the paperwork so they would have his diagnosis on file. My son was attending the high school he started in as part of the open enrollment program, since we had moved out of the boundaries. His grades were not good so the principal decided to drop him from the program right before his junior year. Right about that time, all hell broke loose and pandemic erupted in the U.S. The kids were under a lot more stress, dealing with a lot of uncertainty, forced into online school under less than ideal conditions and that is when the principal decided to remove a vulnerable kid with a newly diagnosed learning disability from the school and programs he loved and where all his friends were enrolled. Compassionate of him, right? Well we fought to keep him there. Our pleas were ignored by the principal so as a last ditch effort, I emailed the school district and Nathan emailed his debate teacher and his teacher went to bat for him. All those efforts paid off and my son gets to stay at his school of choice and the administration will be sharing the resources they so freely give to others. We have also come to realize that he may also be on the autism spectrum (he has lots of signs/symptoms of Asperger’s). So we will be having him evaluated for that as well.

I have two kids in high school, each of them will be attending different schools in different cities. Maybe. It all depends on the direction this damn virus goes. They are starting out remotely and will probably end up in the actual school, but as to when that will be, it is anybody’s guess. So much uncertainty. I have to work (I am lucky to work from home) so I will have to figure out how to keep the kids on task and make sure they get their work done, while trying to avoid the battles over getting a teenager to do anything. Or I will have to find a way to make sure each child gets to their respective school on the days that I have them. A lot depends on what shift I am working and what days I have off and that changes every couple of months and I have very little control over that. I am not sure how we will do that without me losing my youngest son living with me 50% of the time. Not having my kids here on their dad’s days is hard enough, but I don’t know how I will deal with him not being here during MY time if it comes to that.

My living situation has been quite stressful. I live in an apartment managed by a company/individual who does not really seem invested in making sure the living environment is comfortable. I love my apartment. I love the layout. I love the personality. I like the area that it is in. Those are not the issue. I live in a fourplex. I occupy the top floor. I have one neighbor that occupies half of the groundfloor and part of the basement, one neighbor that is half of the groundfloor and one that is half of the basement. The two car garage attached to the building is part of my apartment as I am the only one that has access to it. Long story short–I can’t park in the garage. They couldn’t program the opener for the door I asked them to and instead they programmed the side where they let my neighbor park. According to the manager, the only thing it has ever been used for is storage so that’s it. I can’t park in the garage I pay for. The hot water and water pressure situation in the kitchen has never been great, but last year it got to the point where I was getting a little more than a trickle and we would only get water that was slightly warmer than room temperature and we were having to boil water to do dishes and actually get them clean. I reported this to the manager and he told me to check the hot water valve in the kitchen. The second time I contacted him about it, he said they would check it during the biannual inspection that has never taken place in the year and a half we have lived here. In June there was a pipe leaking in my kitchen that was raining into one apartment and dripping into another. It caused a lot of damage as it had been leaking for quite a while. Galvanized pipes wear out and this one looked like Swiss cheese. I can’t help but wonder–if he had actually had someone check out my issue when I told him about it, perhaps damage could have been avoided. Also last year my refrigerator went out. I lost over $200 worth of food, most of which I had just spent the last of my money on. I had a friend that had a refrigerator he was willing to give me (a really nice one), but the manager told me no, that he would replace it. The replacement came 6 days later and it is much smaller than the original one. I appealed to the manager via email about perhaps giving me a break on rent since I needed to feed my kids and now couldn’t because of their broken equipment. He never answered me. My neighbors in the ground floor apartment are young and seem to have no concept of just how loud they are. Yelling, screaming and cheering until 3 am over a video game that is so loud it booms in my apartment. Music so loud it vibrates my floor and desk (while I am trying to work) and requires that I turn up the volume on my TV so I can hear it. When I was working graveyard shift, I would get off work at 4 a.m. and by 5 a.m. they would already be up and singing at the top of their lungs or listening to loud music. And the manager says that I should call the cops because he can only “suggest” that they turn it down. At the end of my lease I will be scrambling to find something affordable to rent or purchase and that will not be an easy task.

I am a social person and when all the lockdowns and stay at home orders began, it was only supposed to be for a couple of weeks, so no big deal, right? Two weeks turned into a month and then two months. And so on. No going anywhere unless it is absolutely necessary. Everything except major grocery stores closed indefinitely. Wear a mask. Stay 6 feet apart. Don’t get together with friends or family. Don’t go to church. Don’t touch anyone. No hugging friends. It has been a miserable 6 months, not just for me, but for my kids as well. One is very social and being without his friends has been very hard on him. My introverted son struggles too. He doesn’t have a huge circle of friends, but he needs time with the circle he’s got.I am constantly worrying about them and, with my history with depression, looking for signs of it in them. Worrying about getting sick. Worrying about my parents getting sick. Being quarantined when my youngest got sick (not uncommon for him) and having to wait for a negative test to come back. And then I see my friends at odds with each other over masks. One side screams that you want to kill grandma if you don’t want to wear a mask. The other side screams that you are a sheeple if you are fearful and wear one, and that you are trampling on their freedom. It is nothing but a shouting match and no one is listening.

I never thought I was super sensitive, but all the unrest in this country is taking a huge toll on me. It is absolutely heartbreaking to see people angry and fighting, to watch cities be burned to the ground and all the violence that seems to be happening at all the protests and demonstrations. Some days it looks like the U.S. is a war torn country far from the place I grew up. I don’t like confrontation. I don’t like discord. Right now there is such division and meanness even between friends and people are so angry. I just hurts my heart.

Celiac disease is the bane of my existence. I hate it. It is inconvenient. It is painful. It complicates being social. When I get stressed, it activates the symptoms, even if I don’t eat anything I am not supposed to. Stress does that to my Hashimoto’s symptoms as well. So along with dealing with all the other things in my life, I am dealing with being sick and in pain most of the time as well. I wish my family took it into consideration when making plans but often, it is not even a blip on their radar. It seems that not including me in family stuff is much easier than working with it or even considering it and that has become so frustrating for me. I hate being left out of things, but I get that I am kind of a pain to deal with.

And then there is my job. I love my job. I love what I do. I love helping people and I am great at customer service. I love the company I work for. Even as much as I love my job, it is way more stressful than I ever thought it could be under normal circumstances, but add the pandemic, and some days or weeks it is off the charts. All this upheaval and fear is making people not want to travel and as a result the airlines have been hit super hard. There has been monumental loss and with that a lot of restructuring. As of a couple weeks ago, I am officially on a furlough list. That does not mean I will get furloughed, but there is the possibility that in a little over a month, I may be unemployed, at least temporarily. The airline I work for is a strong company and it has a lot of very loyal customers who are absolutely itching to travel, so if I do get furloughed, I don’t think it will be for long. And right now, my employers are doing everything they can to avoid furloughs. Even if furlough is a remote possibility, it is still a possibility, and that is quite heavy since my income is the only income. I still have to worry about how I will pay the rent and feed two teenage boys with voracious appetites and pay all my bills if I don’t have a job.

I am overwhelmed.

I have a lot coming at me at the moment and most days I handle life and stress just fine. But this year is different. It is on overload. It is not without its blessings too, though. I have had a lot of time with my kids which has been nice. In a few months, I may have more than I want. Ha ha. We have done road trips and gone fishing and done UberEats and Instacart together and we have had some great conversations. It is definitely not all bad, but honestly I just need a break. I would love to fly somewhere, preferably somewhere with a beach, but everywhere I want to go is pretty much shut down so using my flight benefits isn’t even a possibility right now. I will have to make due where I am and today, I am going boating with one of my besties and I can’t wait. I need time with her and I need to be near/in the water. Today I get to escape all that stresses me. Just those few hours will have me feeling like a new person. At least for a little while. And I have some awesome friends who are a constant source of joy so time with them is a must.

May 8-10, Days 7-9

So far the schedule has pretty much been abandoned at this point. I do not know what I was thinking. It’s funny that I actually thought scheduling my entire existence was a good thing. I am finding that even though things are not getting done like I wanted them and scheduled them, I am not beating myself up over it and I am actually liking how most of it is turning out. Most of it.

Most of Friday the 8th I spent painting a tea set (if only I got paid for my time when I actually sell those things, I would be much better off!) and finishing and working on my etsy orders. I binge watched Dead to Me while painting. I ordered takeout from Red Robin and worked a bit on the reorganization process in both my studio and my kitchen cabinets.

Saturday the 9th I had scheduled a craft day in the park with friends. I rethought doing it the night before because for some reason, I was not feeling it and I was starting to slip into a not good place, but I sucked it up and I am so glad I did. I packed up my glass, paint, paint brushes and the rest of my supplies and grabbed a blanket, grabbed lunch at Cupbop (my recent fave of restaurants that have gluten free/celiac safe food) and headed to the park. While setting up, I worried that no one would show up and I would be sitting there looking foolish with all my stuff everywhere, but shortly after the scheduled time arrived, someone I didn’t think was coming showed up with her mom. We didn’t paint, but I got some much needed conversation with one of the most positive, joyful people I have met. She confessed that she too has had a difficult time with all the isolation. It was comforting to know that even the happiest of people are experiencing some of the same feelings I am and going through the occasional melt down. God, I have missed being with people so much. Another friend from work showed up a bit later with kids in tow. It was amazing to hear all the giggling and excitement over the ducks and squirrels and airplanes. We painted and talked and shared our frustrations and plans. Another coworker showed up a bit later and painted a couple of glasses as well. I was in heaven. Being cooped up is not good for my mental health and being with other people, breathing the fresh air a enjoying the sunshine was amazing. After being at the park for about 8 hours, it was time to pack up and head home.

May 10th was Mother’s Day and it did not start out well. It was Mother’s day and my kids were with their dad. I didn’t get to do breakfast with them or plan the day. I didn’t get to see them first thing in the morning. Other mothers were celebrating with their kids and posting it all over facebook and I was without mine. I was thinking that he would bring them home to me in the morning, but it seemed that to their dad it was just another day and regular drop off time was okay. I didn’t say anything and maybe I should have but it was Mother’s day and as far as I was concerned I shouldn’t have had to. So I let my mad build. I went to Fred Meyer to get a couple things and ended up buying myself some crazy socks (a weird obsession I have) and a bowl and platter for Mother’s day. The longer he took to bring the boys, the madder I got. No card, no present, no kiddos. It felt like when I was married and he used to blow off the things that were important to me. It shouldn’t have and I guess I shouldn’t have expected any more or any better since we are divorced, but, what can I say? I was not exactly being rational at that point. They finally show up at 1:30 pm and he has not one clue why I am mad and when I attempt communicating that (which I didn’t do well), he doesn’t get why I am angry and leaves. I had a melt down. My 16 year old went to his room and my poor 14 year old was witness to all my upset and anger and hurt. And not just for what happened mother’s day. I feel like I am taken for granted all the time and it just happened to boil over on Mother’s day. After I said what I had to, I calmed down and the rest of the day was spent with my mom, dad, sis and her family. Being with family and hugging my family and just feeling normal was amazing. I miss hanging out with my family.

Mother’s day and it’s frustrations brought something to the forefront. I think that being single and having no one to lean on is hard enough on the normal days, good or bad, but doing that while being so isolated has me feeling more single and alone than I ever have before. Most of the time I am just fine with being single, but I think that being isolated and not having anything like work to distract me right now, it is easy to think and then over think and then start to question what is so wrong with you that even super shitty people are gifted wonderful partners and yet there you are–alone, bearing every burden by yourself and celebrating by yourself. Or trying to anyway. Being so isolated is seriously screwing with my head. That stuff did get to me occasionally before, but, damn, it is in my face now. Like, seriously in my face. Life is a struggle at the moment and people who are with someone and have been forever, and have had the support and the companionship and the care, will never understand.They can try, but when you are blessed with all of that early on, you have no frame of reference. And the platitudes that so many like to use mean absolutely nothing. Well, not nothing. They just cause further frustration, despite the intent.

If you have someone, appreciate them and the fact you have them. Appreciate what they do for you and how blessed you are. Appreciate the companionship, support and love you get every day. I am going to go appreciate a bowl of mermaid sparkle ice cream.

May 2-4, Days 1-3

I came at this leave of absence with a LOT of expectation on myself and what I was going to accomplish. Well, let me tell you, it is not starting out well. Nothing has gone according to plan, but that is not a bad thing.

I have been through some awful bouts of depression and with all the stress of 2020 so far, I can see it working and weaving its way into my brain and my life. The constant need for sleep, the condition of my apartment, my absolute lack of motivation to do anything and the lack of interest in doing things that I love are big fat boulders of a wake up call being lobbed at me. The whole idea of making up a schedule and sticking to it was me trying to force depression away. I have accomplished very little in the first 3 days, but I am not entirely sure that is a bad thing. I mean, my first thought was that right off the bat I was a failure. I was failing miserably at everything I had set out for me to accomplish, but that so called failure is actually anything but and I will explain.

The night before my leave of absence was to start, I got a call from a friend in sort of a predicament. He was on day one of a road trip with his family–his wife and all but one of his kids. Child care fell through for him and his 11-year-old was on his own. I cannot even imagine how scary and stressful that would be as a parent. So, with no one to take care of his kiddo, he called me. And of course I couldn’t say no. So, I jumped in my car and went to go pick him up from his house. Now, I will admit that my selfish brain that only wanted to spend time with my kids for the entire 30 days, started to remind me of all the scheduled stuff that was going to be messed up. How was I going to accomplish everything I had planned with this being thrown into the mix? I didn’t even know this kid so we were both going into this blind and uncertain. Sometimes it is hard to remember that when something drastic like this happens, there is usually a reason and, in this case there was and I will elaborate in a minute.

So, not only was I taking care of another kiddo, but there were animals that needed care as well–a dog, a cat, some ducklings and chicken eggs that were getting ready to hatch. I was still in my “how am I going to do everything on my list” state of mind and the responsibilities kept mounting.

Day 1: What I found was that this kid was super sweet and smart and could not wait to meet my boys. He talked my ear off (something I am familiar with having a talker and being a talker myself). I did manage to start my chore for the day (reorganizing my studio), but today is day 4 and I am still not finished. I read for an hour, I cooked dinner and I reached out to a friend. The friend is one of my favorite people from my former job. I love her. She is amazing. She was my first supervisor at that job and it was my first in 11 years because up until then, I had been a stay at home parent. I was in the process of divorce. She knew what I was going through and made it clear that if I needed anything, to let her know because she and her husband would be there for me. And she was. She is the kind of person that would give you the shirt off her back or her last dollar if you needed it. She would also kick anyone’s ass that messed with her and her family, and she extended that willingness to me. She is a hard worker and a kind person. I have been talking to her for a few weeks after about a year and a half of nothing (what can i say? Life.) Her husband was diagnosed, in the middle of this pandemic mess, with lung cancer that had metastasized. She reached out to me first and I am so glad that she did. I forgot how much I appreciate her presence in my life and I don’t want to let that connection lapse again. More than anything, I want to bring her coffee and give her a big hug. So I reached out to her. I don’t talk to her as often as I should or would like to, but that is hopefully changed.

Day 2: I didn’t do much of anything. My boys came home from their dad’s house. Guest kiddo was excited. He had repeatedly how excited he was to meet my kids. So, when they got home, we went to take care of the animals (twice that day). My youngest is all about animals so he absolutely loved being there. He played with the ducklings (a first time for him) and loved on the dog (who is a totally chill sweetheart) and fed the cat. Aidan and I made gluten free pretzel bites which were quite tasty, but a pain in the butt to make. Anything gluten free is a challenge. I did little else and we ate at Qdoba instead of cooking. I watched the kids interact with each other and play Mario Kart 8 and Minecraft. It was a very chill day. I did work on my studio a bit and started organizing one of the kitchen cabinets (not on the list). I reached out to a former co worker. She was one of my favorite people there as well. We used to commiserate over our mutual nemesis that was always causing us so much trouble on the job. She was the kind of person I could trust which was nice. She was also the kind of person to drop everything and help you if you needed it, without a complaint. And we usually laughed our way through things.

Day 3: Nathan and I went out to do Instacart and ended up only doing one order. I was irritated that he took accepted the order without looking at the distance to drive because I don’t want to drive a long distance if the money isn’t good because I have to pay for my own gas and time is money. If I am driving a long distance, I am not accepting other orders. It turns out that the pay wasn’t super great and we had to drive all the way out to Notus which is about 18 miles away. We actually both enjoyed the drive out there and he has decided we need to drive out there again and go to a produce place and look at what they have. We came home and packed lunches and took off for Swann Falls. I wanted a picnic and Nathan wanted to fish. Most of the area was closed off so we got dirt and rocks to sit on and Nathan didn’t catch any fish. We decided that we would go to Eagle Island State Park so Nathan could try catching something there and our guest wanted to swim. We did Dutch Bros on the way and Aidan and I sat on a blanket in the shade and enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine. Nathan still didn’t catch anything. The plan for dinner was Take’n’bake pizza from a place called Poppi’s in another town–technically that is me cooking but doing zero work. It was closed so we did microwave meals and (thanks to a sweet friend who sent money via facebook) and got all the fixins for sundaes. I did manage to start packaging my handmade jewelry so that I can start listing it in my etsy store. That was not on the list but needs to be done. I had a friend reach out to me. Someone from work checking up on me to see how my LOA was going. She is also on an LOA and will be for much longer than me. I absolutely love her. She is like a sister and I haven’t even known her that long. We were in the same reservations class and started working for our current employer on the same day. She is everything I am not–graceful, beautiful and feminine and everything about her is soft and motherly. I am loud, clumsy and dress like a 13 year old boy. She is very often my voice of reason and would probably help me bury a body (ha ha). And as soft and feminine as she is, you mess with her kids and she will go gangster on you and mess you up. She is my go to coffee and complaint buddy. Did I mention that I love her? I did get to see another friend from work as well. She is the kind of person that would never think twice about helping someone in need. When you think about what Christian love and compassion is supposed to be, she is it. She always operates from a place of love. She and her husband are both such beautiful people. If she ever hears of anyone having a need of any sort, she is like a genie and it magically happens. Everything she touches becomes better. I am blessed to know her. She made me and my kids some masks, as that is our new requirement to do instacart and some of the places we frequent.

What I am learning is that you can’t schedule away depression. You can’t force it to leave. You have to chip away at it a little at a time. Erode it with things that matter. The trick is to take it easy on yourself and allow yourself a little bit of grace. I haven’t accomplished much, but I am breathing easier, laughing more and relaxing. Will I get all my stuff done? Eventually. Maybe. I have to remind myself that not doing something is not a failure and does not make me a failure. There are somethings that will make me better that aren’t on the list and I have to learn to give some of that up in favor of better things. I will still try to get all of the scheduled stuff done, but I will give myself room and permission not to.