Here We Are

Another year, Gone.

As quickly as it has gone, I would like to say: Dear 2012, please let me hold the door as you find your way out. Goodbye and a little bit of good-riddance to you, too. You weren't my favorite year to date. Nor were you the worst so far.

May 2013 bring with it clarity, direction, and growth. A use for New Years resolutions, the focus keep them for longer than a day and wherewithal to meet them in the end.

May our suffering be manageable, not overwhelming, and only  fleeting in this lifetime. May travel be our newest vice,  compassion and love our guiding light. Strength to live in Truth our greatest ally.

The here and now are all we have, may we always make it worth our while.

More Grounded

Who authorized return from vacation on Christmas Eve? Not me.
Despite being mad, okay, really mad, and a by resentfugl that Wood would show up only moments before it all came together to take all the credit for all of my hard work, it turned out I was more glad he was home than upset he had been gone and all the work his absence (the week before Christmas) required of me.

I think that the holiday actually helped us with what is usually a difficult transition - back to family unit. Because he had checked out for a week he was then relaxed, happy, and attentive. The holiday meant that we didn't have to fall immediately back into the usual school and work routines and that's always nice.

I have approached life from a rather numb state lately, not engaging like usual. Wood noticed it and asked what was/is going on with me. I blurted out "I saw a Nice Lady" when Twig wasn't around and couldn't hear what we were talking about. You know, my perception of reality is so skewed lately that timelines aren't working quite right. I'm going to call 'Creative License' here and say the two incidents were separate. He was very pleased that I'd done so. Until he heard about the cost/no insurance issue. But he understands, too, how ease of use and coordinated care are monumentally important right now. If its really an issue, I'll get a referral to someone who does accept insurance when the time is right.

We have talked a fair amount and I feel heard. About both my psychosis and real things. The only thing that has shifted, really - at least I think, is my approach.

Maybe not, however. Wood has always been there for me. I didn't realize how much I depend on him to keep me focused. How much more solid and capable I feel when he's around.  How committed to my marriage and family I am.

We three are a team. The most important team I've ever been on. It's beyond comforting.

Crunch Time

The Nice Lady is part of the Child Psychologists office. She's working on her licensure so clinical hours are not billable on insurance but the cash rate is comparable to the co-pay that we'd pay. Her background is helping moms with postpartum depression, bonding, past trauma and the like.

I like her energy. A lot.

Granted it's her job... she was nonplussed by the fact that I didn't complete the intake form completely. She asked the questions on the form and as painful as it was, I was honest. Depressed? Check. Tearful? Check. Sleeping problems? Check. Anxious? Check. Lethargic? Check.

When I put it all together, say it out loud, re-read these entries, and reflect on my recent conversations with the kid doc, it's all so clear. My state of mind makes sense.

It's not just Crunch Time. I'm in crisis. Full blown close to completely losing it. And I didn't get the extent of it until now.

What are my goals, she asked. To learn how NOT to cry at work, to process out loud, and to develop some self-care skills that I'm able to maintain consistently, even when things get rough.

It hurts like hell. But I know I'll get through this.

Appointment

Friday I see a new Nice Lady.

The Gift

In the archives of this blog, I believe there's a post entitled "First Love". It's the story of a young girl who is belittled by her lover in a most cruel and abusive way. She finds her inner strength and in the end, leaves permanently.

Fast forward 24 years.

She sits in the doctors office and listens to him say "Moms whose boys hit them almost always have something, abuse or trauma that is underneath."

She recalls and retells the story. How she heard his mother being abused. And until today, didn't get that NOT leaving at that very moment was because she had heard her mother being abused.

She is still learning to not be abused.

It hurts.

Bloody Effing Headache

Came on with a vengeance tonight.

It wasn't long after I noticed the yucky feeling creep into my chest, the one where I feel badly, and also noticed that I've been feeling that bad, tuck feeling many times each day. And I don't like it.

So I cried.

There is a lot to cry for lately. It is okay to feel things for people I have never met. To mourn the tragedy and loss of others. To feel loss Some whose story I know, others I don't.

I want to curl up, go away, check out. I'll just cry.

Massacres

Really, people, the collective "We" don't have a gun control problem or a mental health problem, per se. Those are important issues but it so much bigger than that! We have a social problem wherein people have been conditioned to think as little as possible and as a result, believe that they should have whatever they want whenever they want it and if they don't get it can and should act upon their feelings without consequence. I am sad for the horror inflicted upon innocents (and those that aren't innocent) - horrors that don't make it to the news daily and that can conveniently be ignored by those of us who choose to do so. The existence or absence of religion isn't responsible. Guns aren't responsible, mental illness is not responsible, poor parenting isn't responsible. ALL OF US ARE. In our unwillingness to hear other points of view or compromise for the good of ALL people, we are all culpable. And it will eventually ruin each and every one of us.

Alarm Clock

Wood sets his alarm for 5am. Every day.

Every day, the alarm starts its soothing song off oh-so-quietly as and, save maybe one day in 10, I'm wide awake before he begins to stir enough to respond.

I don't really mind being awake at 5am. Not being able to fall back to sleep is bothersome. Actually, this dance has been hard for me for some time. When I'm having bouts of insomnia, or when the kid is sick or over tired and in bed with us it's stressful for me.

I asked this morning... Why do you set your alarm so early and not get out of bed? I decide if I'm going to get up when I hear the alarm. And sometimes I do get up... But usually, you just wake me up... Yep... Que snoring or loud breathing.

He recently asked me what I want for Christmas and I told him 'days-of-the-week underpants'. What I really want is for him to get out of bed when the alarm goes off so I can go back to sleep.

Ha!

First Point of Contact

A colleague today, while chatting with a client, mentioned some agency business including heir disdain for another colleague. How the other person was hated and spoiled. Flabbergasted, I decided to be the whistleblower, to report the issue. It's not the first time that inappropriate things have been said to visitors to the office and while everyone is entitled to their opinion, it should never be said to a client. I have to confront the person tomorrow, to give respect to my fellow co-worker and take ownership for it. Of course, I'm having whstleblowers-buyers remorse. Add that to a whole lotsa angst about being really super far behind in my work, my favorite employee giving notice, and still wanting to work elsewhere with few options for doing so.

We are in the thick of Twigs performance schedule. Rehearsal here, show there. Cancel this, get to that. Run, run, run. We continue to work on his brat attitude with the assistance of a great child psychologist who somehow calls all of us out on our stuff and coaches us toward where we need to be with such ease it's amazing. The homework isn't as simple. I'm tired and stressed.

My body and I are at odds with one another. Extra weight from inactivity isn't feeling good at all and I've given myself permission to be lazy. It's too much to force myself to be so good all the time. One green smootihe each day is my current goal. So far I'm about 9 for 10. Those are good stats in my world.

My new OB/GYN office and I are becoming quite familiar with one another. I've now met two of the doctors in the practice and unfortunately, am certain that I'll meet one of these two again in the nearish future. My lady problems aren't clearing up with traditional treatments so the Gyn#2 suggested, after completing a culture to be sent off to the lab, a biopsy of the area that won't heal. My inner teenage slut burst into tears at the thought of such a procedure and the doctor relented, almost immediately. We agreed that if another month passes unhealed then I'll do the biopsy. A reprieve.

There is more, I'm sure, to report but it isn't forthcoming at the moment. These three things are the most stressful right now. I'm often overwhelmed but try to remember that everything will pass and then get to the next most important thing on my list. And, despite the potential mild-laxative effects of doing so, eat a lot of gum. A lot!

Parenthood

The show.

My life.