Jan 20, 2010

37

[caption id="attachment_1158" align="aligncenter" width="510" caption="Me about 35 years ago."][/caption]

Yesterday was my 37th birthday, and to quote my mom, "How the hell did I get to be 37?" (although my mom used the number 60 when she said this a handful of years ago). Seriously though, how did I get to be 37? Wasn't it just last year when I turned 30 and then moved out here to be with Patrick? Wasn't it only a couple of years ago when I was starting college and mooning over the brooding poet in my literary studies class as he discussed the deeper meaning of The Unbearable Lightness of Being? (true story - he actually said in class, "I don't see this as a love story, but a story about the absence of love." I was smitten).

In all honesty, I'm OK with being 37. I once had a boyfriend who told me that while I was chronologically 19, emotionally I was 40.  I always thought that my life would make more sense the closer I got to that age. Now that I think about it, it has. I mean, I'm still struggling with balancing everything - family, work, my own interests and dreams. But I have learned to let things go, to not worry about things I can't control. I'm trying to live in the present and enjoy what I have instead of think about and obsess over what I want, because chances are, I'm not going to get those things. Besides, what I have is pretty darn good.

Jan 7, 2010

It's January 7th and that means...

- I totally forgot to write a New Year's post. Honestly, I was on vacation from work and being near a laptop made me think too much of writing grants and all the piles of work that were sitting on my desk just waiting for me. I didn't feel like posting anything.

- Today marks the 11th anniversary of my aunt and uncle's house fire. It seems like just yesterday that he died. It's even harder to believe that she 's gone now, too.

- I have a lot that I need to post about - the holidays, my new medication, writing, and the weirdo ear infection I had last week. Seriously, my ear was messed up for over a week...while I was on vacation. It sucked.

Because I haven't posted anything in a while, I need to ease back into it. So here's a total cop-out. It's a video I took just a couple of hours ago. It's Griffin being, well, being Griffin. There's really no other way to explain it. Just do me one favor - don't look at or comment on or even judge me for the condition of our family room. I'm chalking it up to fatigue, total vacation laziness, and the weirdo ear infection. Just watch Griffin and enjoy...





Dec 19, 2009

Courage

"Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow."


- Mary Anne Radmacher

Dec 16, 2009

The weight of the world

I don't think the blues I've been experiencing on and off since August are going away. I want them to. I desperately want them to, but they're not. Over the past 24-hours I've been trying to think of how to describe it because I know I'm going to have to see the doctor to talk about things. The word "depressed" doesn't cut it. Neither does "overwhelmed," although I feel both. This morning, when my alarm went off in my ear, it hit me. Heaviness. Bogged down. I wake up every morning, sometimes to the alarm and sometimes to Griffin fussing to find a more comfortable position in his crib, and I want to cry (and sometimes I do as soon as my eyes open). Why? Because I feel the weight of the world on me. And you can all try to convince me that I'm just overreacting. On a cerebral level I know this, but my goodness, it sure feels that way...and that's what's important. I feel this heaviness pushing down on me every single day. Every single second. And as hard as I try, and believe me, I've tried, I can't get out from under it.

The heaviness is work and financial stress. It's taking care of people - Griffin and Duncan and even Patrick. It's feeling like I have nothing that's truly mine. Seriously, as hectic as NaNoWriMo was, it was so lovely because it was all mine. It was my challenge and my time to do something for me. I've lost myself somewhere along the way and what I'm left with is this weight that sits on me, pushing down harder and harder. It makes me feel trapped and sometimes I have these flashes of "this is my life now" and that makes me feel even more claustrophobic.

I worry all the time. About Griffin and finances and everyone's health. I used to love sleep, but now I find myself dreading going to sleep. As strange as it might sound, I'm worried that something bad will happen in the middle of the night. I think about Griffin's bout with pneumonia and how he just woke up and had this insanely high fever. I think about the phone call we got at 2:30 AM almost one year ago that Patrick's father had a heart attack and was on life support. I figure that if I stay up, nothing will startle me in the middle of the night. Stupid? Yes, but I don't know how to work through that. And when I do sleep, I wake up to the smallest sound and I stay awake.

I have an appointment with my regular doctor this afternoon to discuss antidepressants. I tried my hardest to avoid them, but right now, I don't see how I can. It makes me feel like a failure, like I couldn't do it on my own (even with seeing a psychologist). It makes me feel like I'm not strong enough when I always thought I was pretty tough.

I don't want people to think I'm relying on medication to make me better, but I think I need a jumpstart. The weight is so heavy that it clouds my view on everything. Going to work is frustrating. Cooking dinner is too much to handle. Griffin's recent meltdowns are driving me to tears. This isn't me normally. It's the weight. And right now, I don't see any other way to help lift it.

Dec 11, 2009

Something I hate, hate, hate

Let me preface this post by saying that I am in a pretty decent mood so far this holiday season. I'm enjoying the Christmas music, our decorated tree, and I've even thought about baking some holiday goodies. So this brief rant has nothing to do with me being in a bad mood.

I've been noticing a trend lately that really annoys me. Maybe I'm a little late on this one and it's been going on for a while, but I cannot stand when people say "love, love, love." As in, "I love, love, love Reese Witherspoon's style." Or, "I just love, love, love Christian Siriano" (and I really do love him, hence using him in that example). I've noticed this a lot while reading blogs - people tend to write that in their comments. It really gets under my skin. What's so wrong with saying that you "really love" something or even putting LOVE in all caps? Why the love, love, love? Who started that and why? When is it going to end? Ugh.

I'm seeing it everywhere and I can't tell you how much I hate, hate, hate it.