As Eric and I were sitting at dinner last night I realized that, after (or perhaps while) I'm shaping my current novel, I am also going to be saving all of my board posts and blogs to help me shape a book about PPD when (and if) I finally get thru this period in my life.
Eric has been remarkably supportive during this time. I have no idea how I got so lucky but his continued presence in my life cements my belief in balance, order and karma. If going through a shitty, traumatic childhood is what I needed to do to earn this man, I'd do it all over and would be just fine. In fact, I'd happily go thru much worse.
Between the tax return, getting the car fixed and two doctor bills paid, we were feeling pretty high spirited. We went to Costco and Jimmy Macs...and this morning, I'm a little panicked. We deserved a treat but we're also determined to not let our savings fall below a certain point. We've decided to treat our savings similar to a revolving credit account. We'll pay certain bills out of it, then replace the money a little each check. The catch: we didn't pay the car payment out of this last check which means we have a HUGE chunk coming out of our next check.
The panic, unfortunately, leads me to overanalyze EVERYTHING. A tedious, mind draining process that leaves me exhausted, fractious and tired. It's time to break out my mottos, again. EMBRACE, RISK, TRUST, BE OKAY. Just saying them makes me feel a little calmer. Meditating on them while watching the ducks swim on the ship canal may be in order, today.
In these moments, I feel like my rational half is soothing my emotional half like a mother with a small child. I posted comments on ivillage message boards earlier this week about the way that I feel. I've gotten a couple of wonderful, warm and very reassuring responses. It helps, talking to other mothers who've had the same insane, uncontrollable issues that I have. As I stated to Eric in bed the other night...this isn't fun. I'd change it, if I could...in a heartbeat! And I can't help the craziness I put him through. I love this man more than life. My entire EXISTANCE is dedicated to making him happy. But the emotional swings I take...I really, genuinely can not control them or, right now, the way that I react to them.
I have to give myself credit for reaching out. For asking for help. For doing what I can to educate myself and make this situation better. I am not allowing myself to be a victim to this. I am fighting back. And I deserve to feel proud of myself for that. And feeling proud of myself is a step I'm not sure I could have taken a week ago. Lets hear it for progress.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Cautiously Okay
With Depression, I've learnd that it's vital to take each HOUR one at a time...let alone each day. As Mary pointed out last night, just because you feel fine, now, doesn't mean that things can't change on a dime. This creates an environment where you have to CONSCIOUSLY make a decision to calm yourself down and be okay. Last night was all right. We watched Zombieland. HILARIOUSLY funny comedy with Woody Harrelson. Plus...as one can imagine from the title...IT HAS ZOMBIES! HELLO! That's pretty much all one needs to know in order to watch the film.
Today, I'm clinging to my resolve to be more positive. Yesterday, I wrote EMBRACE, RISK, BE OK and TRUST on my left hand. It was (and continues to be) a small reminder for me to do these things. I've noticed that my depression stems directly from my own issues with self worth and self esteem. I don't understand how anyone can love me because I don't find myself to have value. Until this perception changes, I have to take refuge in reason. When Eric tells me he loves me, then I need to beleive that he's not just telling me what I want to hear...he's telling me the truth. And if he wasn't, he wouldn't be with me. So I need to EMBRACE what he gives me, RISK my feelings by TRUSTING him and BE OKAY with those decisions. If I can concentrate on each of these four key things, I find that I usually do fine.
Of course, it doesn't hurt that we've got my tax return here already...so we are okay as far as money is concerned for the first time in a while. Takes a HUGE amount of pressure off.
Today, I'm clinging to my resolve to be more positive. Yesterday, I wrote EMBRACE, RISK, BE OK and TRUST on my left hand. It was (and continues to be) a small reminder for me to do these things. I've noticed that my depression stems directly from my own issues with self worth and self esteem. I don't understand how anyone can love me because I don't find myself to have value. Until this perception changes, I have to take refuge in reason. When Eric tells me he loves me, then I need to beleive that he's not just telling me what I want to hear...he's telling me the truth. And if he wasn't, he wouldn't be with me. So I need to EMBRACE what he gives me, RISK my feelings by TRUSTING him and BE OKAY with those decisions. If I can concentrate on each of these four key things, I find that I usually do fine.
Of course, it doesn't hurt that we've got my tax return here already...so we are okay as far as money is concerned for the first time in a while. Takes a HUGE amount of pressure off.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Depression Kills
Quagmire. Mud. Clinging, Sucking, life draining clay that sticks to your skin of your mind. Scrubbing with facts and rational thinking doesn't really work because the mud taints that, too. Colors it and changes it until you can't tell whats shiny and bright and pure from what really is just mud. Anything can be camouflaged in toxic colors. And you're aware that the taint spreads. It effects everything...love, friendship, productivity. pretty soon, mud is all you see. Splashed on the walls of your home, poisoning the sweet, clear blue/grey eyes of the men who love you. Tiny handprints smeared on the windows of your soul...handprints that completely block out the view to the inside. All there is is the guilt of knowing that you caused this. You're poison and you don't even have the strength to walk away from the people you're hurting. Because doing so would be the final act for you and you're not ready to die.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Yoga and Breathing
So tonight marked the beginning of mine and Eric's foray into Yoga. I've always been a big proponent of the exercise form. It's quiet in my head when I do Yoga. I'm so busy concentrating on breathing and balancing that I either quiet my thoughts or fall on my face.
Here's to a night of not falling completely on my face. I've earned a repreive. Time to rehydrate and crawl my exhausted ass into bed.
Tomorrow's goals: no soda, 45 ounces of water and time for balance.
Here's to a night of not falling completely on my face. I've earned a repreive. Time to rehydrate and crawl my exhausted ass into bed.
Tomorrow's goals: no soda, 45 ounces of water and time for balance.
Lofty Goals
It's been far too long since I've dusted off my keyboard and taken my thoughts in hand. Characteristically, I think it's because I didn't have them all lined up and figured out. And the thoughts that I've struggled with since Greysen has been born are ones that are deeply moving but changeable, intense and frustratingly un-quantifiable.
It is scientifically proven that a sure way to shake off depression is to start something new. A new hobby, learn a language, etc. Depression is clinically shown to be the result of neural pathways not connecting the way that they should. Serotonin isn't always received by your receptors the way that it is supposed to be. This is, of course, a gross over-simplification but it works to illustrate my point: when you learn something new, it reprograms your pathways--thus staving off depression.
Eric and I have been having issues for the first time in our relationship. And I say the first time because, every time I've been neurotic about us before, it's been just me. We don't fight. Ever. Except that now we do. Three people crammed into one small room in a home that we are grateful for...but does not in any way allow us to be ourselves. We embrace a lifestyle that is not seen as acceptable or valid by Eric's mother. I don't believe in God. We embrace a life of balance and harmony and order that is based, at it's core, on a deep respect and connection with nature. We support Obama's politics, his healthcare reform (including a public option!) and the legalization of Marijuana. I believe in woman's right to choose, a homosexual couples right to civil liberties and marriage and I don't think prayer has any place in a state institution...especially in schools.
Do you see why I'm less than comfortable in Eric's mother's right wing, christian household? Peggy has been nothing but generous and gracious...but my living there is like a pit bull living in a home full of cats. We strike a tenable peace for the greater good...but you know there's friction there just because, fundamentally, we will never see eye to eye. This is pushed a little closer to the breaking point by the fact that my son's world will be shaped by SOMEONE'S views...and I'd really rather they be mine.
As you can imagine, this wears on Eric and I daily. However, we are taking this challenge in hand and doing something about it. We have developed ProjectSmith09. Eric wants to cook and I want to support him. The result: we are cooking our way through a Julia Child's cookbook ala' Julie and Julia (the movie, incidentally, was cute but forgettable...except for Streep's portrayal of Childs. She's brilliant, as she always is, and I find myself a little more in love with her ability every time I watch her!) We are blogging about it on ProjectSmith09.blogger.com.
I'm grateful for any opportunity to return to Eric the love, trust and support that I receive from him daily in pursuit of my own career. He genuinely understands the passion I have for what I do and just how much it really means to me. Pushing him to expand his culinary skill is a small price to pay for what I receive from him on a constant basis. We've also decided to exercise together and I, personally, have a goal to spend more "fun" time with him.
All of these goals, however, are leaving me feeling a little daunted and exhausted. Especially because I'm making them directly after being sick with Kidney Stones AND E. Coli. My body is still recovering, which makes me feel like I have both a fresh start...and a lower than normal battery level. Taking care of and being kind to myself are things I really need to concentrate on doing...and I'm hoping that I can find a way to integrate that into what I'm doing with Eric.
So I'm brushing off this blog (so that my thoughts, uninterrupted, undeterred and unfiltered) still have an outlet as I take on this adventure. The stakes are much, much higher, this time around. Grey is here. He's watching everythign we do. And how can we ever encourage our son to take on his dreams if we aren't willing to take on our own in some way? And the things I've set out to do are specifically targeted to make mine and Eric's relationship stronger...again, something that is deeply impacting on my son and MUST NOT FAIL.
To much pressure...I need a nap.
It is scientifically proven that a sure way to shake off depression is to start something new. A new hobby, learn a language, etc. Depression is clinically shown to be the result of neural pathways not connecting the way that they should. Serotonin isn't always received by your receptors the way that it is supposed to be. This is, of course, a gross over-simplification but it works to illustrate my point: when you learn something new, it reprograms your pathways--thus staving off depression.
Eric and I have been having issues for the first time in our relationship. And I say the first time because, every time I've been neurotic about us before, it's been just me. We don't fight. Ever. Except that now we do. Three people crammed into one small room in a home that we are grateful for...but does not in any way allow us to be ourselves. We embrace a lifestyle that is not seen as acceptable or valid by Eric's mother. I don't believe in God. We embrace a life of balance and harmony and order that is based, at it's core, on a deep respect and connection with nature. We support Obama's politics, his healthcare reform (including a public option!) and the legalization of Marijuana. I believe in woman's right to choose, a homosexual couples right to civil liberties and marriage and I don't think prayer has any place in a state institution...especially in schools.
Do you see why I'm less than comfortable in Eric's mother's right wing, christian household? Peggy has been nothing but generous and gracious...but my living there is like a pit bull living in a home full of cats. We strike a tenable peace for the greater good...but you know there's friction there just because, fundamentally, we will never see eye to eye. This is pushed a little closer to the breaking point by the fact that my son's world will be shaped by SOMEONE'S views...and I'd really rather they be mine.
As you can imagine, this wears on Eric and I daily. However, we are taking this challenge in hand and doing something about it. We have developed ProjectSmith09. Eric wants to cook and I want to support him. The result: we are cooking our way through a Julia Child's cookbook ala' Julie and Julia (the movie, incidentally, was cute but forgettable...except for Streep's portrayal of Childs. She's brilliant, as she always is, and I find myself a little more in love with her ability every time I watch her!) We are blogging about it on ProjectSmith09.blogger.com.
I'm grateful for any opportunity to return to Eric the love, trust and support that I receive from him daily in pursuit of my own career. He genuinely understands the passion I have for what I do and just how much it really means to me. Pushing him to expand his culinary skill is a small price to pay for what I receive from him on a constant basis. We've also decided to exercise together and I, personally, have a goal to spend more "fun" time with him.
All of these goals, however, are leaving me feeling a little daunted and exhausted. Especially because I'm making them directly after being sick with Kidney Stones AND E. Coli. My body is still recovering, which makes me feel like I have both a fresh start...and a lower than normal battery level. Taking care of and being kind to myself are things I really need to concentrate on doing...and I'm hoping that I can find a way to integrate that into what I'm doing with Eric.
So I'm brushing off this blog (so that my thoughts, uninterrupted, undeterred and unfiltered) still have an outlet as I take on this adventure. The stakes are much, much higher, this time around. Grey is here. He's watching everythign we do. And how can we ever encourage our son to take on his dreams if we aren't willing to take on our own in some way? And the things I've set out to do are specifically targeted to make mine and Eric's relationship stronger...again, something that is deeply impacting on my son and MUST NOT FAIL.
To much pressure...I need a nap.
Monday, August 3, 2009
It makes sense that the one thing that could shake me out of my writer's block would be Eric.
Eric's lately found and old friend on Facebook. Tja has been friends with him for years...since his wild partying days. They have history....they have stories...they have a great friendship. They've been chatting non-stop for the last week. He went hiking with her at Staircase on Saturday while I went to Seafair with Kelly.
I could like this girl. She's open, friendly, engaging, funny and honest.
And every time I tell myself that this woman isn't a threat to us I remember a few things:
Eric and I weren't exactly in forever mode before Greysen came along. In fact, we'd never made a decision much more future minded than whose house we were staying at for the weekend. I'd only met his dad twice and never met his mother. I'd only met his sister a few times and probably never would have met Nathan if Eric hadn't lived with him.
Plus, he's had MONTHS to propose...and hasn't. We have to get married in order to live with his mother. So we have to at least put on the front. And really, the only reason we're ACTUALLY getting married is because...well...I hate lying. And I'm not good at it. So...Eric's not marrying me because he wants to...he's marrying me because the situation demands it.
I know that he's happy. I work very hard to see that he is so. and logically, he has no reason not to be. I'm supportive, understanding, he has a nice, long leash (I'm riding the bus home for the next two days so he can go to Seahawks practice with his brother and he went hiking, two hours away, outside of cell range, with another woman this weekend). I can't think of any reason for him to be discontent and I've done all I can to give him an environment where he feels comfortable saying something if he is.
In short, I've given this everything I have. I've been the best girlfriend I know how to be.
And I'm still sitting here, wondering why he doesn't want to marry me. Apparently, there's just some little...something...missing.
I've spent the last week being threatened by a woman who, under any other circumstances, I would probably be awesome friends with. Wanna hear my final conclusion??
You can have him, Tja. Because he obviously doesn't want to marry me. And, really, as much as I love him (and my GOD do I love that boy...) I'm frustrated at all the time I've been wasting, worrying about whether or not I should be worried. I'm done. I'm over it. At the end of teh day, I know that I gave Eric every single fucking thing I have. Every tear, every inch of worry, every shred of understanding and support. I held NOTHING back from that man. And if it's not enough then he SHOULD go where he can be happy and be with someone he can't wait to propose to. If I'm not that girl...it's going to suck. It's going to hurt like none other for a while.
But I'll survive. I'll continue to breathe without him. I'm still loved, I'm still cherished...I'm still me. I'll have my friends, my career and my son. And I'm okay with that...because if Eric doesn't recognize how valuable I am...I know. And someday...someone else will, too. There's no way they couldn't.
Eric's lately found and old friend on Facebook. Tja has been friends with him for years...since his wild partying days. They have history....they have stories...they have a great friendship. They've been chatting non-stop for the last week. He went hiking with her at Staircase on Saturday while I went to Seafair with Kelly.
I could like this girl. She's open, friendly, engaging, funny and honest.
And every time I tell myself that this woman isn't a threat to us I remember a few things:
Eric and I weren't exactly in forever mode before Greysen came along. In fact, we'd never made a decision much more future minded than whose house we were staying at for the weekend. I'd only met his dad twice and never met his mother. I'd only met his sister a few times and probably never would have met Nathan if Eric hadn't lived with him.
Plus, he's had MONTHS to propose...and hasn't. We have to get married in order to live with his mother. So we have to at least put on the front. And really, the only reason we're ACTUALLY getting married is because...well...I hate lying. And I'm not good at it. So...Eric's not marrying me because he wants to...he's marrying me because the situation demands it.
I know that he's happy. I work very hard to see that he is so. and logically, he has no reason not to be. I'm supportive, understanding, he has a nice, long leash (I'm riding the bus home for the next two days so he can go to Seahawks practice with his brother and he went hiking, two hours away, outside of cell range, with another woman this weekend). I can't think of any reason for him to be discontent and I've done all I can to give him an environment where he feels comfortable saying something if he is.
In short, I've given this everything I have. I've been the best girlfriend I know how to be.
And I'm still sitting here, wondering why he doesn't want to marry me. Apparently, there's just some little...something...missing.
I've spent the last week being threatened by a woman who, under any other circumstances, I would probably be awesome friends with. Wanna hear my final conclusion??
You can have him, Tja. Because he obviously doesn't want to marry me. And, really, as much as I love him (and my GOD do I love that boy...) I'm frustrated at all the time I've been wasting, worrying about whether or not I should be worried. I'm done. I'm over it. At the end of teh day, I know that I gave Eric every single fucking thing I have. Every tear, every inch of worry, every shred of understanding and support. I held NOTHING back from that man. And if it's not enough then he SHOULD go where he can be happy and be with someone he can't wait to propose to. If I'm not that girl...it's going to suck. It's going to hurt like none other for a while.
But I'll survive. I'll continue to breathe without him. I'm still loved, I'm still cherished...I'm still me. I'll have my friends, my career and my son. And I'm okay with that...because if Eric doesn't recognize how valuable I am...I know. And someday...someone else will, too. There's no way they couldn't.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
So...I'm driving into work today, listening to Pandora (I freaking LOVE my I-phone, ya'll!). Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" was on and it set me to thinking of MJs need to reach out to others with his music. Say what you want about his personal life (because it was hard to understand and outside of established social perameters), his music was brilliant and changed lives. The beats draw you in but the lyrics...the lyrics can (and sometimes do) make you take a deeper look at who you are and at the world you choose to see. This, my friends, is art at its best.
Anyway, I've discovered something remarkable in my musings: my whole life, I've wanted to be one of those people who wasn't afraid of anyone. I wanted to know that I was open minded enough to accept all races, creed, colors, orientations and cultures...even those I didn't understand. This is not an easy goal in our country. Quite frankly, Americans take nationalism to a level previously only established by Bismark and Hitler. We are fanatical about being Americans (go to Texas...you'll understand) and our media supports this. And, after 9/11, it took all of my higher intellect not to join the fervor of the morons who decided to forever after block all things Muslim and Middle Eastern from thier consciousness. Or worse...harm them.
I am not proud of this part of my being. And because I don't like it, I've tried very hard to change it. I've had wonderful help along the way. My dear friend Elena, who has spent sooo much time in the Middle Eastern countries and has adopted the Muslim religion as her own, Mary, who is deeply connected to the Muslim world through her dear friends, the Nazirs and Marina, who lets me see the world, every day, through the eyes of someon who didn't grow up here but spans two cultures beautifully, effortlessly and with intelligence, wisdom and humor. I am deeply lucky in my friends and I'm grateful, every day, for helps they probably aren't even aware that they give.
And Grey has given me one more. You see...it struck me as I was driving in, today, that the connections I'm looking for between myself and others who live lives that are not like mine is nestled in my tummy. Become a mother and you will know what it is to have a connection with every other woman on the planet. Feel your child move for the first time and then think about the fact that on the other side of the planet, there's a woman your age who is feeling the same thing...with the same wonder and awe and joy. Because, statistically, it's true. Somewhere in a culture I don't understand, in a country being run by madmen, there's a young woman who only wants her child to be happy and safe and loved. And under her Burka or Sari or beret is a heart that cares only for the ten tiny toes and ten precious fingers she's helping to create. As her stomach swells all that will occupy her mind will be her hopes and fears for that child. As my hopes and fears for Grey are all that occupy mine.
We are as different at can be...and yet not different at all. Because we are also connected to something so much more primal and powerful and so much...bigger...than politics and borders and all of the other things that the men on this world find important. And because our greatest power doesn't have physical force behind it, we have to be far stronger for far longer than those who do have force at thier disposal. And we are. We heal wounds, mend hearts and sicknesses, we send out countless prayers to various Gods. We are constant, faithful, loving and steady. And yet...we'd rip the still beating heart out of the chest of any person who hurt our children.
We are mothers.
We are amazing.
And we are exactly the same, all over the world.
Breathtaking, isn't it?
Anyway, I've discovered something remarkable in my musings: my whole life, I've wanted to be one of those people who wasn't afraid of anyone. I wanted to know that I was open minded enough to accept all races, creed, colors, orientations and cultures...even those I didn't understand. This is not an easy goal in our country. Quite frankly, Americans take nationalism to a level previously only established by Bismark and Hitler. We are fanatical about being Americans (go to Texas...you'll understand) and our media supports this. And, after 9/11, it took all of my higher intellect not to join the fervor of the morons who decided to forever after block all things Muslim and Middle Eastern from thier consciousness. Or worse...harm them.
I am not proud of this part of my being. And because I don't like it, I've tried very hard to change it. I've had wonderful help along the way. My dear friend Elena, who has spent sooo much time in the Middle Eastern countries and has adopted the Muslim religion as her own, Mary, who is deeply connected to the Muslim world through her dear friends, the Nazirs and Marina, who lets me see the world, every day, through the eyes of someon who didn't grow up here but spans two cultures beautifully, effortlessly and with intelligence, wisdom and humor. I am deeply lucky in my friends and I'm grateful, every day, for helps they probably aren't even aware that they give.
And Grey has given me one more. You see...it struck me as I was driving in, today, that the connections I'm looking for between myself and others who live lives that are not like mine is nestled in my tummy. Become a mother and you will know what it is to have a connection with every other woman on the planet. Feel your child move for the first time and then think about the fact that on the other side of the planet, there's a woman your age who is feeling the same thing...with the same wonder and awe and joy. Because, statistically, it's true. Somewhere in a culture I don't understand, in a country being run by madmen, there's a young woman who only wants her child to be happy and safe and loved. And under her Burka or Sari or beret is a heart that cares only for the ten tiny toes and ten precious fingers she's helping to create. As her stomach swells all that will occupy her mind will be her hopes and fears for that child. As my hopes and fears for Grey are all that occupy mine.
We are as different at can be...and yet not different at all. Because we are also connected to something so much more primal and powerful and so much...bigger...than politics and borders and all of the other things that the men on this world find important. And because our greatest power doesn't have physical force behind it, we have to be far stronger for far longer than those who do have force at thier disposal. And we are. We heal wounds, mend hearts and sicknesses, we send out countless prayers to various Gods. We are constant, faithful, loving and steady. And yet...we'd rip the still beating heart out of the chest of any person who hurt our children.
We are mothers.
We are amazing.
And we are exactly the same, all over the world.
Breathtaking, isn't it?
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