Monday, December 29, 2014

Starting at the bottom

On boxing day, we left the place we stayed over Christmas.  We made a quick stop to buy the family shoes that I thought were on sale, but they ended up not being on sale.  Then I gave the wrong directions to get home.  And then I cried.  I couldn't stop it, I couldn't hide it this time.  It's funny what the last straw can be.

My hubby asked what I needed with the intention to drive anywhere it took to get that elusive thing that would make me happy.  I didn't want anything.

I tried to look out the window so noone in the van could see my tears.

Later I found out that my boy, who was sitting behind me, saw.  And he cried too, because he thought that I was crying because of him.

And then I cried some more.


Here it is, the end of the year, and I can feel myself going down, down, down.

It is ridiculous that I have let things get this bad when I know better and when I still remember how bad things can get.

I am weary.  I first noticed it a while before Christmas break started.  I sat down in church, in a rare opportunity to be in the service, and I felt in that moment that I was at the end of my every energy, and that I could not take another step.

"Just get to the Christmas break," I whispered to myself.  "You can make it.  You can rest.  Renewal and refreshment will be there."  And that became my mantra for the rest of the month.

Unfortunately I got to the break and those things I'd promised myself were not there.  The break is almost over and I still have not found them.

It hurts my heart to realize that I have had only one day alone with my family members.

As for rest, there was one day that I sat on the couch and did little else (not that I could do much else around dealing with the unwelcome vengeance of my monthly visitor).  Even when a friend and her son came over that evening, I was still sitting on the couch, still in my pajamas.  It seems that just one day was not enough.

I have let my health go.  Let the supplements go, let the vitamins go, let go of keeping balance in meals.  I haven't made time to get to the gym, and my sleeping has been crap - it's the holidays, I can stay up late, right??

Too much sugar, not enough water.  Pain in my back and side that reminds me of this constantly.

Not enough faith.  No desire to seek or serve or read or pray.

No desire for community, but trying to muster energy to reach out to those most important to me because alienating them would be a huge mistake.

Here I am at the bottom, looking at a fresh new year.  Picking and choosing what parts need immediate attention...the minimum that I need to rebuild my floor so I can step up to the next floor.  My heart is greedy, but my brain will keep it in line.  I've been here before, and I know.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Ativan take two

I took the other half of that Ativan last night.  Two vodka drinks in a body that I have not been taking care of lately was a little too much, and I spent all of Christmas Eve night awake but exhausted, in and out of the bathroom on the verge of vomit, in a home that is not my own.

By 5:00 am, I was in full-on panic mode and my hubby was stirring.  He asked if I was okay and what he could do for me.  Water and my Ativan.  I am so so glad that I thought to throw it in the suitcase just in case; I don't usually carry it with me anywhere.

I didn't feel like it did a lot for me - not quickly at least - but by the time the kids were up around 7:00, I was feeling well enough to be away from the garbage can I had nearby just in case.  By 2:00 pm I could eat again.

Yay Christmas.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Anxiety Bug Update

My sweet boy, who was plagued by anxiety and then faced it and stomped on it has been so strong and courageous this school year!  When he brought home his report card earlier this month, he ripped open the envelope, not to examine his marks, but to proudly show me his attendance record.

Zero lates, zero absences.

He is so so very proud of himself, and I am proud of him too!  I remember all too well begging and pleading with him to go into the school, to go into his class.  I remember sitting in the corner of his classroom knowing that the second I got up to leave at our pre-agreed upon time, he would come running over with tears, pulling on my arm so I would stay.  I remember trying to be firm with him, and to keep my patience.  I remember fighting tears because I knew all too well how he felt and the pain of knowing that I was making it temporarily worse by walking away.

What an amazing boy I have.  He is so strong, so determined.

I asked him how he did it, and he shrugged and said he just did it.  I know that he still feels anxiety before heading to school every single morning.  I can see it.  But he takes a deep breath and says, "Bye mom!" and runs out the door and across the field to his friends.  He tells those feelings to piss off every morning, and I think they do.  And I'm glad.