i feel like every post starts with noting how long it's been since my last post. i'm starting to think such is grownup life. i just have a lot more life to live than i did a few years ago, and so a lot less blog. but this week i have time on my hands and fuzz in my head, which is a combination that begs to be blogged about.
i've been learning the past few weeks about how to be calm in a storm. unfortunately, that requires being in a storm. the cliche is that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but for me i feel like what hasn't killed me has made me realize how strong i already was. it's a weird feeling, recognizing my strength and the strength of my support system, and one that i don't think i would have been able to feel a few years ago. when the current shit storm began a few weeks ago, i totally freaked out and started to lose myself in the stress and worry. that's my usual response. but this time, as time has passed and the storm has not let up but i have not crumbled, i'm finding a strange sense of calm and...pride? defiance?....it's almost like the worse things get the more badass i feel.
the storm is mostly over. the crisis is being fixed, and it is just a matter of waiting now as that happens and preparing for the cleanup operation. it's not fun, and i'm not looking forward to the next weeks. but i feel confident that i will be able to clean it up and keep going, mostly because i was able to go through the storm in the first place.
i'm also finding such a heightened sense of gratitude for my amazing husband (who is under all the same stress as me but also still having to go to work and manage all sorts of paperwork on his end), and the generosity of my in-laws. losing our financial safety net has highlighted how strong our relational safety net is. a big part of my being able to grow and find strength through the storm comes from knowing that i'm not alone in it.
my next month and a half is going to be maybe the busiest of my life. i'll be cleaning out the house and getting ready to move, and wading through paperwork and appointments with my OB, and WIC, and the movers, and the housing office, and then driving across country and moving into a new house/city/state. all while being mommy and wife, and 7 months pregnant, while tony has to spend extra time at work. i spent the first half of august with a growing sense of terror about how i would manage it all. but i've spent this second half of the month with a growing sense of confidence in myself because none of the coming stress will be worse than the past few weeks. if i can survive being stranded out of state for weeks with no car, a toddler, away from my husband, living out of a suitcase i packed for a 4 day trip, while all our finances disappear.... i'm pretty sure i can handle a move.
on a strictly happy note, i just hit 24 weeks pregnant. it's such a huge pregnancy milestone, especially after my worries about miscarriage, since now baby would be able to survive even if she was born super early. oh, by the way, the baby is a girl and her name is valencia grace. and in 4 months when she is born all this stress will be just a memory.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
letting go
i am so incredibly grateful and happy to be pregnant (oh, hey, for those of you who missed the facebook announcement, i'm pregnant), but this pregnancy has hit me much harder than when i was pregnant with haven. i've been sick, and exhausted, and she-hulk cranky, and was really not prepared for how different it would be to be pregnant with a toddler than when i was pregnant by myself all day. but every time i think about the little grape-sized person growing inside me, and how amazing it will be to add to our family, and how my heart feels full after feeling achy for many months, it is so worth it.
when i first found out i was pregnant again i had mixed emotions. i was excited, but also gripped with terror that i would miscarry again. i didn't want to get my hopes up, or get my heart set on another baby, only to be crushed again. i spent a few weeks mentally wringing my hands, with my stomach in knots, expecting to lose the baby at any moment. but then it hit me that living in fear and worry wouldn't make this baby healthy, but could cause me to miss out on all the joy of pregnancy. i decided that this baby is worth all the hope and excitement and joy and pride in my heart, for as long as it lives...whether that is 80 years, or only a few weeks. this baby is my child, and deserves a mama who isn't afraid to fall totally in love with it.
it's not easy to let go of the worry. i have to remind myself daily to let go and love my baby with all that i am, for as long as it is my baby. i even feel a bit weird writing this post, because i'm still two weeks away from that magical, 12 week mark where the risk of miscarriage drops off. at the back of my mind is the fear that my next post could be about awful loss. but the truth i must try to remember is that it is no more risky to love this baby than to love anyone else. all love is a risk. any opening of oneself to someone else is inherently risky. it's just a little more clear and immediate of a risk in this situation. and maybe that's good.
i decided years ago that i would rather risk the pain of heartbreak than live with a heart too calloused and bitter to be broken. situations like this pregnancy are both a test and an affirmation of that. it's times like this where god challenges me to actually be the person i say i am. it's not about denying or ignoring or belittling my fears. it's about looking them in the eyes, and having compassion for the part of me that is afraid, and honoring that protective impulse, and then gently saying "but i will love anyways". it's a process that i know will continue for the rest of my life, and that i will need to go through over and over and over. because there will never be a way to love without risk, and i will never be the kind of person who is not afraid of risk. but i will also not be the kind of person who lets the fear choke out the love.
i am treasuring every nauseous, exhausted, grumpy, glorious, scary minute of this pregnancy. i'm choosing to let go of the worry, so that i can hold tightly to those i love....my arms are long, but not long enough to hold onto both. and i'm hoping that i get to write many posts in the years to come about this new baby and our growing family. once i hit the "publish" button for this post, i will probably get a horrible sick feeling in my stomach, like i've tempted fate. but i think that's the only way i want to live.
when i first found out i was pregnant again i had mixed emotions. i was excited, but also gripped with terror that i would miscarry again. i didn't want to get my hopes up, or get my heart set on another baby, only to be crushed again. i spent a few weeks mentally wringing my hands, with my stomach in knots, expecting to lose the baby at any moment. but then it hit me that living in fear and worry wouldn't make this baby healthy, but could cause me to miss out on all the joy of pregnancy. i decided that this baby is worth all the hope and excitement and joy and pride in my heart, for as long as it lives...whether that is 80 years, or only a few weeks. this baby is my child, and deserves a mama who isn't afraid to fall totally in love with it.
it's not easy to let go of the worry. i have to remind myself daily to let go and love my baby with all that i am, for as long as it is my baby. i even feel a bit weird writing this post, because i'm still two weeks away from that magical, 12 week mark where the risk of miscarriage drops off. at the back of my mind is the fear that my next post could be about awful loss. but the truth i must try to remember is that it is no more risky to love this baby than to love anyone else. all love is a risk. any opening of oneself to someone else is inherently risky. it's just a little more clear and immediate of a risk in this situation. and maybe that's good.
i decided years ago that i would rather risk the pain of heartbreak than live with a heart too calloused and bitter to be broken. situations like this pregnancy are both a test and an affirmation of that. it's times like this where god challenges me to actually be the person i say i am. it's not about denying or ignoring or belittling my fears. it's about looking them in the eyes, and having compassion for the part of me that is afraid, and honoring that protective impulse, and then gently saying "but i will love anyways". it's a process that i know will continue for the rest of my life, and that i will need to go through over and over and over. because there will never be a way to love without risk, and i will never be the kind of person who is not afraid of risk. but i will also not be the kind of person who lets the fear choke out the love.
i am treasuring every nauseous, exhausted, grumpy, glorious, scary minute of this pregnancy. i'm choosing to let go of the worry, so that i can hold tightly to those i love....my arms are long, but not long enough to hold onto both. and i'm hoping that i get to write many posts in the years to come about this new baby and our growing family. once i hit the "publish" button for this post, i will probably get a horrible sick feeling in my stomach, like i've tempted fate. but i think that's the only way i want to live.
Monday, April 23, 2012
feminism, marginalization, and privilege...my blog has trendy words tonight
this post has been in my brain for months, and it may not win me friends but i need to say it. besides, i haven't been feisty on this blog in forever. if i don't soapbox once in a while i will totally lose my blog cred.
over the past few months i've noticed a trend where people throw around the term "privileged" in order to shut down others in a discussion. it is generally a discussion of poverty, gender, or marginalization of some sort, which makes it all the more gross.
when one says "your opinion doesn't count because you are ________ " it is dehumanizing and asinine. when one says it, one is basically saying either
A) "i know every experience you have had, and know that you cannot possibly relate to what we are talking about" which is presumptuous and ridiculous,
or (the worse) B) "although you may have been victimized and faced hardships in your life, your experiences don't count because you have X amount of money, education, support, skin pigmentation, etc." which is downright disgusting. it is especially so when it is used in conversations about marginalization and feminism. it is about as patriarchal of an attitude as exists.
it's like all of a sudden everyone heard the word "privilege" and though it sounded cool, and thought "hey, if i call people privileged i will look smart/PC/involved/whatever". it is a way of shutting down and dehumanizing people while looking like the good guy.
what bothers me most is how many "feminists" use it so readily, and against one another. honestly, it's part of why i am loathe to self-identify as a feminist, and why i think feminism has stalled and started to lose ground it gained decades ago. the "us vs. them" model is the very heart of patriarchy, and when feminists fall into it they lose credibility and effectiveness. bickering about who has the right to talk about feminism is beyond counterproductive. i think it's one of the reasons so many teen girls now roll their eyes at the term "feminism". it makes being a feminist inaccessible, because who, really, can join their voice to the discussion without fear of having their access to the internet used against them.
i understand that it is important to recognize the advantages one has in life, and that many people in the world don't have the same advantages. it is absolutely important to identify one's own privilege, and discuss from a place of gratitude and humility. but "privileged" is only something that one should self-identify, never something that one person should assume about another. the person i may judge as "privileged" may have been raped or abused, may have spent early life in poverty even though they have loads of money now, may have achieved their ivy league education in a desperate attempt to win love and acceptance from family, may suffer from mental illness or some other hidden physical disability. when i judge someone as "privileged" i am refusing to see them as a human being, refusing to believe that they could be anything deeper than my surface perception of them.
use of the term "privileged" as a pejorative separates people into two groups. there are the victims, and the privileged, the "have"s and the "have not"s. so when one uses it in a discussion of, say, poverty, one not only dehumanizes the "privileged" person, but also the "victim". when you say one person is privileged and one is not, you are saying that you know everything about the "not privileged" person as much as the "privileged" one, and know that they have never experienced any advantages or good things. as with any dehumanizing term, it dehumanizes everyone equally.
because i have white skin and am well educated, i have often been labeled as "privileged" by people who have no idea that i experienced homelessness as a child, have been sexually assaulted, have battled mental illness, cannot feed my child without public assistance programs, and fought a learning disability for the education i received. yes, i have had access to education. i have a home, food to eat, and this blog itself is a privilege which most people in the world (especially women) don't have. i have always had a supportive family on which to rely, and yes, the color of my skin has been more benefit to me than harm, i am certain. does any of that negate my past experiences? does any of that mean i don't deserve to have a voice?
at what point exactly do the scales tip? if one has never lived below the poverty line, is any opinion on poverty meaningless? how many years does one have to have had money to no longer be allowed to talk about poverty? does one have to be raped before being allowed to discus rape? does being male exclude a person from being able to care about and have opinions on feminism? does being straight mean one can't discuss LGBT rights issues? where are the lines, and who gets to draw them?
i think what bothers me most is that it is such an accepted label, and that no one seems to bat an eye when it is used to marginalize someone. it is not entirely honest to say that i dislike self-identifying as a feminist. i really do consider myself one. but it is an uncomfortable association for me, because i have felt just as marginalized by "feminists" as i have by patriarchy. and sadly, i don't see that changing any time soon. as long as so many feminists are set on relating to patriarchy on its own, adversarial terms, feminism will remain inaccessible and irrelevant to anyone but women's studies and social justice majors.
if "good people" can only prosper at the expense of "bad people", no one will truly prosper. if it is ok to exclude and devalue people because they are "privileged", it is ok to exclude and devalue people for any other reason. and there's the rub.
over the past few months i've noticed a trend where people throw around the term "privileged" in order to shut down others in a discussion. it is generally a discussion of poverty, gender, or marginalization of some sort, which makes it all the more gross.
when one says "your opinion doesn't count because you are ________ " it is dehumanizing and asinine. when one says it, one is basically saying either
A) "i know every experience you have had, and know that you cannot possibly relate to what we are talking about" which is presumptuous and ridiculous,
or (the worse) B) "although you may have been victimized and faced hardships in your life, your experiences don't count because you have X amount of money, education, support, skin pigmentation, etc." which is downright disgusting. it is especially so when it is used in conversations about marginalization and feminism. it is about as patriarchal of an attitude as exists.
it's like all of a sudden everyone heard the word "privilege" and though it sounded cool, and thought "hey, if i call people privileged i will look smart/PC/involved/whatever". it is a way of shutting down and dehumanizing people while looking like the good guy.
what bothers me most is how many "feminists" use it so readily, and against one another. honestly, it's part of why i am loathe to self-identify as a feminist, and why i think feminism has stalled and started to lose ground it gained decades ago. the "us vs. them" model is the very heart of patriarchy, and when feminists fall into it they lose credibility and effectiveness. bickering about who has the right to talk about feminism is beyond counterproductive. i think it's one of the reasons so many teen girls now roll their eyes at the term "feminism". it makes being a feminist inaccessible, because who, really, can join their voice to the discussion without fear of having their access to the internet used against them.
i understand that it is important to recognize the advantages one has in life, and that many people in the world don't have the same advantages. it is absolutely important to identify one's own privilege, and discuss from a place of gratitude and humility. but "privileged" is only something that one should self-identify, never something that one person should assume about another. the person i may judge as "privileged" may have been raped or abused, may have spent early life in poverty even though they have loads of money now, may have achieved their ivy league education in a desperate attempt to win love and acceptance from family, may suffer from mental illness or some other hidden physical disability. when i judge someone as "privileged" i am refusing to see them as a human being, refusing to believe that they could be anything deeper than my surface perception of them.
use of the term "privileged" as a pejorative separates people into two groups. there are the victims, and the privileged, the "have"s and the "have not"s. so when one uses it in a discussion of, say, poverty, one not only dehumanizes the "privileged" person, but also the "victim". when you say one person is privileged and one is not, you are saying that you know everything about the "not privileged" person as much as the "privileged" one, and know that they have never experienced any advantages or good things. as with any dehumanizing term, it dehumanizes everyone equally.
because i have white skin and am well educated, i have often been labeled as "privileged" by people who have no idea that i experienced homelessness as a child, have been sexually assaulted, have battled mental illness, cannot feed my child without public assistance programs, and fought a learning disability for the education i received. yes, i have had access to education. i have a home, food to eat, and this blog itself is a privilege which most people in the world (especially women) don't have. i have always had a supportive family on which to rely, and yes, the color of my skin has been more benefit to me than harm, i am certain. does any of that negate my past experiences? does any of that mean i don't deserve to have a voice?
at what point exactly do the scales tip? if one has never lived below the poverty line, is any opinion on poverty meaningless? how many years does one have to have had money to no longer be allowed to talk about poverty? does one have to be raped before being allowed to discus rape? does being male exclude a person from being able to care about and have opinions on feminism? does being straight mean one can't discuss LGBT rights issues? where are the lines, and who gets to draw them?
i think what bothers me most is that it is such an accepted label, and that no one seems to bat an eye when it is used to marginalize someone. it is not entirely honest to say that i dislike self-identifying as a feminist. i really do consider myself one. but it is an uncomfortable association for me, because i have felt just as marginalized by "feminists" as i have by patriarchy. and sadly, i don't see that changing any time soon. as long as so many feminists are set on relating to patriarchy on its own, adversarial terms, feminism will remain inaccessible and irrelevant to anyone but women's studies and social justice majors.
if "good people" can only prosper at the expense of "bad people", no one will truly prosper. if it is ok to exclude and devalue people because they are "privileged", it is ok to exclude and devalue people for any other reason. and there's the rub.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
back in black
i've taken a long rest from blogging. i've taken a rest from a lot of things, and it has been good. the many, many stresses of last year/early this year caught up with me, and it took some time to detangle my head and heart. but things are looking decidedly up now, and i'm hankering to get back into the swing of blogging. for the sake of catching up, here are the highlights of the past month-ish.
* zoloft. zo-loft. for reals. after several bad guinea-pig type experiences with depression meds in my late teens, i was skeptical to say the least. but so far it has been amazing. three weeks in, on the very lowest dose, and i feel like myself again after months and months and months of feeling off. and it's safe while breastfeeding, and safe if i get pregnant again. i'm so glad i went to the doctor. i realized, once the zoloft kicked in, that i have been depressed for a lot longer than i thought. i think it's been since late in tony's deployment (late last summer), and recently it just got worse and became harder to function. my seemingly overwhelming to-do list has been disappearing at a grand pace, because it turns out the list wasn't overwhelming, rather life itself was overwhelming when i was depressed. it is so nice to not be overwhelmed by everything anymore.
* i found a mom's group on base, and have finally found some friends here. haven and i have been having playdates at least once a week, and i've gone on a couple of girl's nights with other moms. it's been the first time haven has been with a babysitter, and she has done really well. it's great to get a night off every few weeks to go have fun. haven is loving getting to play with other kids, and i am loving getting to play with other mommies.
* looks like we are moving to san diego in october. it's not set in stone (because nothing with the military is ever set in stone...last time they switched orders/bases on us a few weeks before we were supposed to move), but pretty certain. i'm excited, because i love san diego. i will love being by the beach, and the amazing weather, and all the stuff to do, and the great mexican food and sushi. i'm also nervous because it will be way too far to drive to visit family, and flying is expensive, so we will not be able to visit home nearly as often. but i'm ready to be a california girl, i think.
* pinterest. ohmygod, pinterest. that is all i can say about it. if i am still lax about blogging now, it will be because i am spending hours browsing pins.
it's good to be back to the blog. it's good to be back to my life.
now that we're caught up i've got some blogs rolling around in my head, so hopefully i'll avoid pinterest long enough to write some of them in the next few days.
* zoloft. zo-loft. for reals. after several bad guinea-pig type experiences with depression meds in my late teens, i was skeptical to say the least. but so far it has been amazing. three weeks in, on the very lowest dose, and i feel like myself again after months and months and months of feeling off. and it's safe while breastfeeding, and safe if i get pregnant again. i'm so glad i went to the doctor. i realized, once the zoloft kicked in, that i have been depressed for a lot longer than i thought. i think it's been since late in tony's deployment (late last summer), and recently it just got worse and became harder to function. my seemingly overwhelming to-do list has been disappearing at a grand pace, because it turns out the list wasn't overwhelming, rather life itself was overwhelming when i was depressed. it is so nice to not be overwhelmed by everything anymore.
* i found a mom's group on base, and have finally found some friends here. haven and i have been having playdates at least once a week, and i've gone on a couple of girl's nights with other moms. it's been the first time haven has been with a babysitter, and she has done really well. it's great to get a night off every few weeks to go have fun. haven is loving getting to play with other kids, and i am loving getting to play with other mommies.
* looks like we are moving to san diego in october. it's not set in stone (because nothing with the military is ever set in stone...last time they switched orders/bases on us a few weeks before we were supposed to move), but pretty certain. i'm excited, because i love san diego. i will love being by the beach, and the amazing weather, and all the stuff to do, and the great mexican food and sushi. i'm also nervous because it will be way too far to drive to visit family, and flying is expensive, so we will not be able to visit home nearly as often. but i'm ready to be a california girl, i think.
* pinterest. ohmygod, pinterest. that is all i can say about it. if i am still lax about blogging now, it will be because i am spending hours browsing pins.
it's good to be back to the blog. it's good to be back to my life.
now that we're caught up i've got some blogs rolling around in my head, so hopefully i'll avoid pinterest long enough to write some of them in the next few days.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Arlo
you almost never were, and now you're not
but you were mine
for those few weeks before you failed to thrive
i miss your face that will never be a face
and the fingers you would have by now
i miss the labor pains that never came
replaced now by a deeper, lasting ache
that they promise fades in time
you almost never were, and now you're not
but in my dreams you still grow up
and i grow old and hold your babies in my arms
the way i will never hold you in my arms
in my dreams all things empty are still full
and i shake my head and smile
at the false alarm
you almost never were, and now you're not
absent now for longer than you were present
time did not stop when you stopped
and my heart keeps pumping blood that should have been pumped
for the both of us
who will not be an "us", only a "once"
the irony is not lost that you lived inside of me
but we will never touch
you almost never were, and now you're not
i called you Arlo in my head when i read the test
because i knew right then you were a "he" and not an "it", who should have a name
and now it can't be said
not even a headstone to carve it in
just my heart - the only place you ever lived
where you live still
where you will always rest
but you were mine
for those few weeks before you failed to thrive
i miss your face that will never be a face
and the fingers you would have by now
i miss the labor pains that never came
replaced now by a deeper, lasting ache
that they promise fades in time
you almost never were, and now you're not
but in my dreams you still grow up
and i grow old and hold your babies in my arms
the way i will never hold you in my arms
in my dreams all things empty are still full
and i shake my head and smile
at the false alarm
you almost never were, and now you're not
absent now for longer than you were present
time did not stop when you stopped
and my heart keeps pumping blood that should have been pumped
for the both of us
who will not be an "us", only a "once"
the irony is not lost that you lived inside of me
but we will never touch
you almost never were, and now you're not
i called you Arlo in my head when i read the test
because i knew right then you were a "he" and not an "it", who should have a name
and now it can't be said
not even a headstone to carve it in
just my heart - the only place you ever lived
where you live still
where you will always rest
Monday, February 20, 2012
one leg at a time
i want to write about all of the craziness of life in the past few weeks - haven's broken arm, tony's eye surgery, etc. i want to write about finding pinterest yesterday and becoming instantly and deeply addicted. i want to write about the stuff i've been sewing, and how i finally found a vegan brownie recipe that actually tastes like brownies.
but...
but the feeling i had in january of being stalled/blocked, combined with the grief over the miscarriage and the havoc it wreaked on my hormones, has turned into full blown depression. it's a familiar feeling, because i felt it on and off for almost a decade, but it's strange too because i haven't felt it in several years. i'd almost forgotten what it is like.
i am a stronger and wiser person than i was the last time it hit, and i am better able to sense it coming and cope in healthy ways, but it still sucks the life out of me. it's a lot like hypothermia - i slowly start to get tired, and it gets hard to concentrate or move, and i start to lose feeling. i'm not miserably unhappy, i'm just not ever happy. that's what clued me in. i'd be in the midst of something that should make me really happy, but the happy just wasn't there. it's like that fuse is just flipped. just explaining it feels exhausting.
on one hand it is a relief to have figured out the reason why i'm not happy (and that it is not that i'm not in love with tony anymore, or a bad mother, or a naturally bitter and dissatisfied person). on the other hand, admitting it makes it really real, and makes it one more thing i have to deal with. it's one more thing to worry about, when worrying too much about everything is my problem in the first place.
so now i'm trying to figure out what to do about it. medication would lift the fog pretty quickly, but i dislike it on principle (and from experience) and since tony and i are still trying to have a baby i don't want to risk the complications it can bring to pregnancy. i'm so terrified now of anything that could hurt a pregnancy. there is a counseling center on base, but it is going to be tricky setting up appointments around tony's constantly changing schedule. i think that's my best bet though.
when i'm depressed, my natural response is to want to retreat into myself and wait for someone to rescue me without being asked to. unfortunately, my natural response is heinously counterproductive. meaning i now have to not only force myself out of bed, but also make sure i put my biggirl pants on and choose to fight my own fight, and keep doing the laundry, and not snap at haven, and give her lots of attention even when i feel spaced out, and keep talking to tony even when i feel too numb to talk.
the biggirl pants are awfully big pants to have to wear. a few years ago i couldn't put them on. every time i felt like this i would get totally lost in it and spiral into self-destruction. but the truth is that i have worked really hard on learning to cope with sub-par brain chemistry, and to communicate and take charge of my own life. i am a biggirl now. maybe they aren't biggirl pants, they are just my pants. that feels a bit more manageable...god bless semantics.
tomorrow morning i will call my doctor for an appointment, so that she can refer me to a therapist. in the meantime, i will wistfully think of all the blogs i'd like to write if anything mattered.
imagine now, dear reader, that you are hearing me utter a deep, melancholic sigh. and also the rustle of feet slipping into fabric.
but...
but the feeling i had in january of being stalled/blocked, combined with the grief over the miscarriage and the havoc it wreaked on my hormones, has turned into full blown depression. it's a familiar feeling, because i felt it on and off for almost a decade, but it's strange too because i haven't felt it in several years. i'd almost forgotten what it is like.
i am a stronger and wiser person than i was the last time it hit, and i am better able to sense it coming and cope in healthy ways, but it still sucks the life out of me. it's a lot like hypothermia - i slowly start to get tired, and it gets hard to concentrate or move, and i start to lose feeling. i'm not miserably unhappy, i'm just not ever happy. that's what clued me in. i'd be in the midst of something that should make me really happy, but the happy just wasn't there. it's like that fuse is just flipped. just explaining it feels exhausting.
on one hand it is a relief to have figured out the reason why i'm not happy (and that it is not that i'm not in love with tony anymore, or a bad mother, or a naturally bitter and dissatisfied person). on the other hand, admitting it makes it really real, and makes it one more thing i have to deal with. it's one more thing to worry about, when worrying too much about everything is my problem in the first place.
so now i'm trying to figure out what to do about it. medication would lift the fog pretty quickly, but i dislike it on principle (and from experience) and since tony and i are still trying to have a baby i don't want to risk the complications it can bring to pregnancy. i'm so terrified now of anything that could hurt a pregnancy. there is a counseling center on base, but it is going to be tricky setting up appointments around tony's constantly changing schedule. i think that's my best bet though.
when i'm depressed, my natural response is to want to retreat into myself and wait for someone to rescue me without being asked to. unfortunately, my natural response is heinously counterproductive. meaning i now have to not only force myself out of bed, but also make sure i put my biggirl pants on and choose to fight my own fight, and keep doing the laundry, and not snap at haven, and give her lots of attention even when i feel spaced out, and keep talking to tony even when i feel too numb to talk.
the biggirl pants are awfully big pants to have to wear. a few years ago i couldn't put them on. every time i felt like this i would get totally lost in it and spiral into self-destruction. but the truth is that i have worked really hard on learning to cope with sub-par brain chemistry, and to communicate and take charge of my own life. i am a biggirl now. maybe they aren't biggirl pants, they are just my pants. that feels a bit more manageable...god bless semantics.
tomorrow morning i will call my doctor for an appointment, so that she can refer me to a therapist. in the meantime, i will wistfully think of all the blogs i'd like to write if anything mattered.
imagine now, dear reader, that you are hearing me utter a deep, melancholic sigh. and also the rustle of feet slipping into fabric.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
that post i've been meaning to get to
i have always found immense comfort in a good list. i need a plan of action, and clear goals, especially during times of emotional vulnerability. there is something so bracing and reassuring about having a list that i can check things off of - proof that i am moving forward. and i love planning and discussing lists even more than i love making them. it's almost sick how much i love it.
i meant to write this post at the start of the month, but then life got in the way (though i love lists so very much, i realize that living in the moment and rolling with life's punches is antithetical to staying on the list. but i accept the paradox that while i need lists to feel like i'm making progress, that progress happens in ways i rarely thought to put on my list). so here it is almost february and i am only now starting to think about my lists/plan/goals for the year.
last summer while tony was deployed i got into a rhythm that was really working for me. i figured out a schedule that worked for haven and i, and i got the house cleaned and organized. i knew what i needed to do each day, week, and month to keep everything running smoothly. it felt really good, and a clear home somehow led to a clear head, and i wrote glowingly optimistic blogs about it.
however...
since tony came home i have really struggled to keep any sort of housekeeping routine, and the house has suffered and the family has suffered. it starts because i want to spend time with tony rather than cleaning (especially when he works nights and our time together is brief and sleepy). but the more i put off the cleaning the more stressful it is to live in a dirty house and the less quality our time together becomes. when he was deployed, i would clean for an hour or so when haven went to sleep at night, and then the rest of the evening was mine for creative projects. now when haven goes to bed i try to spend some time with tony before he leaves for work, and then rush to get at least a few dishes clean for the next day before it's time for bed. cleaning during the day is pretty much a no-go. i can get the laundry done, and maybe unload the dishwasher, but anything beyond that requires more of my time and focus than haven will stand for. it's also pretty useless to clean when a toddler is awake. i vacuumed this morning, and by lunch the floor looked like it had before vacuuming. demotivating, to say the least.
i feel like as soon as i get a grasp on one area of life, i start losing everything else through the cracks. if i'm being an attentive mom or wife, the house goes to shit. if i'm keeping the house livable i'm losing myself because i have no time for creativity or even a shower without haven attached to me. not to mention that it all feels ten times more chaotic when i'm dealing with emotional blows, like i have been of late. the bottom line is that i am in desperate need of a firm schedule and to-do list.
over the summer when we were a family of two, my to-do list only needed what tasks i had for the day. but i think as a family of three the list needs an actual time schedule for when each task will be accomplished. i know that i waste oodles of time during the day, and working within a time schedule will help me find out where i'm wasting the time and help stay on track...so that maybe, just maybe, by the end of the day i will have 30 or 40 minutes to spend with myself. i think i also need to get back on a long-term schedule for housework. it's not enough to have a daily list of what most desperately has to be cleaned to avoid contracting diseases. i need to have a rotation for all the things that only need to be cleaned once every week or two and get forgotten when i'm just trying to catch up the dishes so we can eat dinner. over the summer i had that schedule figured out but, again, it's different now with three. things get dirty one third quicker, roughly, and i need a new chore rotation.
a friend of tony's stopped by the other day, and it was embarrassing. i've been wanting to invite a neighbor over for a play date but there is no way that could happen right now. i hate that. i want a home that is always ready and welcoming to guests, rather than one that makes them and me uncomfortable. i think that's as close to a new year's resolution as i've got this year. god willing it won't take me the entire year to get there.
i meant to write this post at the start of the month, but then life got in the way (though i love lists so very much, i realize that living in the moment and rolling with life's punches is antithetical to staying on the list. but i accept the paradox that while i need lists to feel like i'm making progress, that progress happens in ways i rarely thought to put on my list). so here it is almost february and i am only now starting to think about my lists/plan/goals for the year.
last summer while tony was deployed i got into a rhythm that was really working for me. i figured out a schedule that worked for haven and i, and i got the house cleaned and organized. i knew what i needed to do each day, week, and month to keep everything running smoothly. it felt really good, and a clear home somehow led to a clear head, and i wrote glowingly optimistic blogs about it.
however...
since tony came home i have really struggled to keep any sort of housekeeping routine, and the house has suffered and the family has suffered. it starts because i want to spend time with tony rather than cleaning (especially when he works nights and our time together is brief and sleepy). but the more i put off the cleaning the more stressful it is to live in a dirty house and the less quality our time together becomes. when he was deployed, i would clean for an hour or so when haven went to sleep at night, and then the rest of the evening was mine for creative projects. now when haven goes to bed i try to spend some time with tony before he leaves for work, and then rush to get at least a few dishes clean for the next day before it's time for bed. cleaning during the day is pretty much a no-go. i can get the laundry done, and maybe unload the dishwasher, but anything beyond that requires more of my time and focus than haven will stand for. it's also pretty useless to clean when a toddler is awake. i vacuumed this morning, and by lunch the floor looked like it had before vacuuming. demotivating, to say the least.
i feel like as soon as i get a grasp on one area of life, i start losing everything else through the cracks. if i'm being an attentive mom or wife, the house goes to shit. if i'm keeping the house livable i'm losing myself because i have no time for creativity or even a shower without haven attached to me. not to mention that it all feels ten times more chaotic when i'm dealing with emotional blows, like i have been of late. the bottom line is that i am in desperate need of a firm schedule and to-do list.
over the summer when we were a family of two, my to-do list only needed what tasks i had for the day. but i think as a family of three the list needs an actual time schedule for when each task will be accomplished. i know that i waste oodles of time during the day, and working within a time schedule will help me find out where i'm wasting the time and help stay on track...so that maybe, just maybe, by the end of the day i will have 30 or 40 minutes to spend with myself. i think i also need to get back on a long-term schedule for housework. it's not enough to have a daily list of what most desperately has to be cleaned to avoid contracting diseases. i need to have a rotation for all the things that only need to be cleaned once every week or two and get forgotten when i'm just trying to catch up the dishes so we can eat dinner. over the summer i had that schedule figured out but, again, it's different now with three. things get dirty one third quicker, roughly, and i need a new chore rotation.
a friend of tony's stopped by the other day, and it was embarrassing. i've been wanting to invite a neighbor over for a play date but there is no way that could happen right now. i hate that. i want a home that is always ready and welcoming to guests, rather than one that makes them and me uncomfortable. i think that's as close to a new year's resolution as i've got this year. god willing it won't take me the entire year to get there.
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