The Great Escape

Everything below was written yesterday (Monday 2/23). Today was a very good day. I never went to the corner. I think that is what gives me the confidence to post this now.
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I did it again. I spent yesterday in the corner. I didn't get out of my PJs. I didn't walk outside into the sun. I didn't grocery shop. I didn't do laundry. I didn't clean. I avoided conversation at all costs. I read a lot. I watched a little TV. I eventually slept. I escaped. I was on my way to doing the same thing today -- I even considered calling in sick. I was an hour late for work.

I cannot tell you how relieved I felt when Mark suggested we skip church yesterday. This is bad, because once I get going, my day is actually better. It is just really, really, really hard to get going. Getting started is like a I am dragging an 2 ton anvil up hill. If I can ever get to the top, and start down the other side, the anvil becomes an asset, pulling me to some unseen destination at the bottom of the hill. Once I stop though, once the momentum is gone, I have to start the climb again. Starting seems to be getting harder and harder. I was going to say the hill is getting higher and higher, but that wouldn't be right. The anvil is getting heavier and heavier. I wasn't happy I wasn't going to church, just relieved I didn't have to start the process. I was actually looking forward to the sermon. I had other things planned for after church. These are things I should have felt good about, should have found fun. I kind of stood up a friend. I couldn't get going.

Is the answer to never loose the momentum? I just don't think so. I don't have it in me to keep going all waking hours. I have to have my down time. I just seem to keep getting stuck there.

Over the last few weeks, I've caught myself thinking really negative things -- nothing in particular, just things like how annoyed I am at myself because I didn't do something. How much I hate this chore or that chore. How angry I am about some comment or some 'thing'. How I hate that home is my loneliest place. I dwell on things that make me sad, and angry. Things I wish I could forgive, that I wish I could let go, but I can't. Dwelling on these things seems to make my temper and emotions a little out of balance.

I've tried to think about how much better I'd feel if I could just get some of the negative things behind me. I make promises to myself that I will be better tomorrow, that I will tackle some of those chores - kick the negative stuff in the butt. Some days I can keep it up for a few hours, most days I don't get started.

My brother and I discussed depression this weekend. Actually, I brought it up. Clinical depression is something that we've both dealt with before. I guess you can say depression and mental illness is "in the family", both biologically and by marriage. We actually dealt with depression way before it was "in fashion" so to speak -- before there were 1000 different anti-depression medications on the market. Also, we have a close relative who has issues for which we have no name, and probably will never have one, but mental illness is there, however undefined. It is not going away.

Either way, with respect to depression, I recognize enough of the symptoms to know I might be there. I've done online self assessments, and each one says yes, I am moderately to severely depressed . But I wonder if I am looking for an easy out . Am I even being honest with myself? Because I have the history, I know how to answer the assessment questions. Is this a medical problem or an unhappy problem. Drugs do not fix unhappiness.

I also recognize that I have in my power to flip a switch and be fine, at least to all outward appearances. And maybe I am actually fine for short bursts. Sometimes flipping the switch is hard, sometimes its easy. In certain situations, I can be jovial, and laugh.

I wonder, if I were truly depressed in the chemical / medical state, could I even self analyze whether or not I am depressed. I dunno.

I am debating whether or not to post this. I shared this blog with friends and family, and I guess all of them know I am dealing with some things , questions that are unanswered. I am not a person who keeps things bottled up, so I talk (aka - complain) to people about the things bothering me.

I don't know who is reading, and who isn't. I don't want someone to read this and think I am incapable of doing some of my favorite things; the things that do usually motivate me to start my day. I don't want people to worry that I am unreliable -- haven't been there yet, and honestly that also keeps me going to some extent. What others think is very important.

So, for now, I am a big chicken. I will hit the save button, and move on to something different.

Too proud?

I am proud of all my children, but lately I've been so proud of my eldest daughter.

She is something else -- smart, talented, and mostly she has a huge, big, accepting, loving heart. She just seems to be good at everything she tries. Don't get me wrong - she gets mad, makes kid mistakes, is learning life lessons, and the pre-teen moodiness is getting more and more frequent, but even with all that, she is just genuinely good. I am so proud of her I could pop!

This scares the bejezus out of me. If pride is a sin, won't I be punished for feeling such bursting, heart swelling, head popping pride? No matter how many times I thank God for giving me such a daughter, I always wonder if there is not some scale that is tipped out of balance because I am so proud.

I've seen tragic news stories where some poor devastated soul is on the TV, telling the world how their child loved life, and was good to the core, a good student, a leader in church, was so sweet. Lately, I have these horrid dreams where I am that poor devastated soul. I feel like I am barely holding on to an angel.

I don't really believe in premonitions, and I don't think there is much to this except a 'normal' mothers fears, but I wonder what is at the root of it all. Maybe the fear is rooted in the fact that I can see that she is growing up, and I know that before too long she'll be experiencing the hardness of life. Maybe it is because with each milestone she reaches, with each step she takes, my ability to protect her diminishes. Maybe I fear that heart break is coming. (When one has a big heart, how much worse does it hurt when it breaks?) Maybe I fear that she'll change.

For now, I guess I'll just keep trying to keep my pride in check. (I do know people get tired of hearing me brag about my kids !) I'll remember to thank God each day for His blessing me with 3 wonderful children. I'll try to hold on to my angel for as long as she needs me. And most of all, I'll pray that when the time comes, I'll will be able to let go and let her fly on her own.

Identity Crisis: Selfishness or Discovery

Change happens. It is inevitable. But what happens when change changes who you are?

Example: You meet this person. You fall in love and they fall in love with you, and who you are. You get married, you build a life together, a home, you change. You have children, you partner, you change. Your children grow, you move to a new home, you change. Your parents age, you become the caretaker, you change. You get a promotion, your responsibilities increase, you change. Your financial situation changes, you make different choices, you change. It goes on and on and on and on.... and the changes don't stop.

And then one day, there is an argument, a fight, a discussion and the words are spoken. "You haven't always been that way." It is true.

All of sudden you look back and wonder what happened to the person you were. You realize that somewhere in all those changes, you no longer know who you are and the person on the other side of the table is still looking for who you were.

So the search for identity begins. Maybe it is not so much a search, as it is an examination. Do I like who I am now? Is this the definition of a midlife crisis? Is the search to understand this new sense of self selfish?

And the winner is.....

Well as you can see, I’ve chosen “Blue Toilet Water” for my blog name. Thanks to all of you who voted and made suggestions. I liked this title all along, but I wondered if it was a bit was too much, so to speak. It was my brother’s intuitive comments that ultimately made me choose it..

“I vote for Blue Toilet Water, because it's not heavy-handed, it suggests a sense of humor, and it's memorable. Also because it suggests a false sense of clean, and don't we all project that!”

Thanks, Aaron. Your ability to cut through the crap, even when the crap is a toilet metaphor, is a true gift.

The runner up was "Here. There. Yonder." Although, I only asked a few people to vote, the friends who have known me longest voted for this one. I think this says something about me and the ways I've changed over time. (I really like this title a bunch -- so much so, I've at least grabbed the URL from Blogger, so I can come back to it later if I want to.)

So it seems that my first blog is about choosing my blog name. I guess I would have liked for my first blog to be more profound, but such is life. It's the combination of choices we make that define us. It is interesting to realize that with some perspective, we might have made different choices. If we had chosen differently, would we even be who we are today? Doubtful.

Jiggle, swirl and whhhooooshhhh -- there goes that thought!

Thanks for stopping by!