I've been writing all over the place. Some of it I get paid for, some of it I don't. Some of it I pay for- aka classes at Harvard- plenty o writing there. But I haven't been blogging here much lately as anyone can see. Part of it I think is that this has been an off-and-on DARK time in my life. Not working was good for me in some ways but really, really bad in other ways like... now my life lacks structure. Sometimes I'm the up-at-7am with a hot breakfast waiting for the kids on the table kind of mom and sometimes I'm the sleep in til noon mom.
I know part of it is the anemia and the treatments and my overall lack of compliance and waiting for my counts to get catastrophically low to where I think I'm going to have a heart attack or something. I think I have rolled into one of my major depressive episodes. Usually I'm a pull myself-up-by-my-bootstraps and a few zoloft kinda girl but stuff just doesn't seem to be working that way. My counts are getting higher and I'm hoping I'll soon have the clearanace to go and work out and maybe find the right person or friend to help hold me to the program and that will help my brain chemistry.
In the meantime, I am languishing a little, neglecting myself alot, trying to put on a good face for the kids and trying to be patient because if there is one thing that has been proven to me time and time again:
"This too shall pass."
I'm trying so hard to hang onto that little silver thread that this isn't reality- it is like looking through distorted glass. My filter is just messed up right now and soon, it will clear.
I almost feel like getting all the saddest movies I've ever seen, you know, Old Yeller, Where the Red Fern Grows or books The Red Pony, Eric, Alex: The Life of a Child just so I can have a good bawl and you know, feel better. I feel like I've had so much trapped inside of me for so long that if I let it out, I could literally leave a crater in the ground. Or at least the couch. Of course, I could also eat enough Ben & Jerry's and do that, too.
This, I know I've said this before, but this is the longest I've stood still in a long time. I feel like I need to keep moving. I know that sometimes it is a self-destructive instinct: RUN... Go somewhere else, start somewhere fresh. New stuff gives me energy. Just how long can I keep dodging the devil? Sometimes we have to just learn to sit with ourselves and be okay with it, I think. I'm trying.
What am I doing that is fulfilling? Nothing. Well, raising my kids is a given, god knows how badly I'm screwing that all up. I don't want them to think this is normal, that this is what life is about. But I don't know how to pull myself up by my bootstraps right now, either.
I might try writing more here. Maybe if I say how hard I am trying enough times, my kids will forgive me someday.
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