I Suppose...

it's good that I'm having to look back to find out what day I'm on.

Today is day 11.

I have moved beyond yesterday's funk (thankfully).

I'm still stressed, but I'm trying to learn how to let go of the things that I can't control. Being a massive control freak, that is no small task.

We're in the middle of some big family changes and I'm fearful. That's the one thing that concerns me a little bit. Even though I've been battling depression, I've always been a "it will all work out" kind of gal.

Maybe it was out of sheer laziness. Maybe it was the depression that made it easier to just sit back and watch it unfold while fooling myself.

Truth be told, it doesn't always work out. Sometimes it just doesn't, but that's part of life. As a sitcom theme song once taught me, "You take the good. You take the bad. You take them both and there you have the facts of life." (Wow...I just dated the hell out of myself!)

I'm trying to learn how to put one foot in front of the other rather than just standing there and letting things happen to me or instead of racing forward so quickly it gets away from me.

I'm learning a lot about myself by writing every day. I've had to force myself a couple of times. I'm glad I did. I know that for a lot of people this is tedious to read, and readers have started falling off, but that's okay.

While I'm hoping that seeing my journey will help one person who needs it to make a move, this is for me.

~Kim

If There Was Ever...

...any question about whether this is a miracle cure or not. Last night and today answered that.

It's day 9.

I'm overwhelmed. Shit happened and I "can't even" right now.

Everything the kids are doing is annoying the ever-loving shit out of me. Even stuff that shouldn't.

I can't adult. I had to accept some help. I feel guilty. I'm also angry, sad, anxious, and depressed.

Mind over matter only lasts so long. Twenty-one more days will make the thirty in which I could be feeling the full effect of the meds.

I'm feeling hopeless, but it's not hopeless that this treatment is the right path. It's hopeless that I let things go wrong for so long in life that I'll never be able to fix them. The shit storms will keep coming and there's nothing that I can do about it. My molehills have become mountains again.

It's becoming more obvious to me that I cannot handle stress. I functioned today. I didn't want to, but I did anyhow. So, I guess that's something.

All I can think of right now is, "Fuck!"

~Kim

You Know You're...

...doing better when you can actually force yourself to do things!

Day 8 and here I am.

I didn't want to write a post. There's really nothing significant between yesterday's late afternoon post and today's.

The only thing that I really wish would change is my sleep pattern. I'm still waking up tired.

It's Independence Day. I'm sure there are BBQs and family gatherings all over the place, but my family doesn't have one anymore since my grandma passed away and the family pretty much all went its separate ways.

I hope you're enjoying the day with your family. Hopefully, next year at this time, I will have the wherewithal to put together my own gathering.

I didn't realize how lonely depression would leave me. I've turned down so many invitations to places that I rarely get invited anymore. I've made my friends have to work so hard to be my friend that I can't imagine what they say about me to their spouses and other friends who are normal functioning people.

Huh. There's something that I never would have realized. I guess forcing myself to write this post revealed something that was just below the surface.

Thanks to my friends who have worked so hard to stay a part of my life. I thought it was just the fact that our kids have grown up and we don't find ourselves in the same places (i.e. the little league baseball fields) anymore. I now realize how hard I have been to maintain any kind of friendship with.

Damn. I think I'll have a pity party today. Fireworks and all!

~Kim

Wow! Where Did...

...the day go?!

It's day 7 and I've been so busy all day that my post is coming a lot later than usual.

Between ensuring one of my teens is sufficiently punished, visiting with my mom, making sure that the youngest is thoroughly pissed at me, and letting the oldest sleep because he went on an overnight cleaning bender, it's been one hell of a day!

I just wrapped up doing some dishes and am contemplating what to cook for dinner. It's probably one of the fullest days I've had in a long time.

The kicker for me? I still want to get other stuff done today!

I am feeling a little tired, my sleep hasn't quite regulated yet. I'm still awake later than I want to be, but am getting out of bed at a decent hour. I'm hoping that will sort itself out as I learn how to let the stress of life go little by little.

That's happening!

Don't get me wrong, I still have a laundry list of things that need me to 'deal' with them, but I am not looking at that list and just shutting down. It's incredible. It's such a weird feeling.

It's freeing.

I'm still convincing myself to sort out some counseling so that I learn how to take the inevitable "bad days" that come. I will. It's hard to break the procrastination habit. I'm a habitual procrastinator. (Gee, wonder why I'm always stressed, huh?) I cannot even remember a time that I wasn't.

I believe that may be my biggest hump. Doing what needs to be done, before it absolutely positively has to be done or after it already should have been done. (Gee...what a novel concept.)

I still have messes to clean up. I still have kids to rewire because my habits have become theirs in a lot of cases. I still am doing the majority of it by myself (don't get me wrong, the Patriarch has just as much stress, if not more, as I have). Somehow, it no longer feels like a mountain that I cannot move. I can see the small rocks and mid-sized boulders that I can move. I don't see it all as one big problem rather than a bunch of little ones. My perspective has changed.

I'm not sure if it's the meds or if it's just the fact that I knew these things all along. Quite frankly, I think it's a combination of the two. The meds are allowing my brain to function more normally. Therefore, I can think about things individually rather than one big lump of suck.

I've been having thoughts of getting back to writing. I've got a few people who are awaiting my next book, and I think I may be able to get sorted out soon. This is a huge deal for me. I miss writing.

So there you have it. I feel human. I actually don't mind leaving my house. I'm making molehills out of mountains. Go me!

~Kim

Parenting In A...

...depressive state is hard.

It's day six. I'm impressed with myself. I have managed to remember to take my pill every morning.

That in itself is a monumental achievement, but I've had some other milestones.

Yesterday, I left my house.

I walked with the drama queen down to the local park to watch the fireworks. I even talked to people face to face.

I know, right?! It's a miracle!

Okay, that might be going a little far, but it's something. I always enjoy my time out of the house, but I have the hardest time making myself leave. This time, I didn't.

Hallelujah for small victories!

I even went preemptive and put my bursitis cream on my hip before we left so I wouldn't be writhing in pain the whole time we were gone. F.Y.I. the max on that is about four hours because I thought I was going to die by the time we got home last night. (And I still can't believe at 43 I have bursitis! What the hell?!)

This morning, I had to deal with a not so pleasant part of parenting. I was dreading it. I really was, but I handled it.

Now, my kid knows that I don't expect him to be perfect, but I do expect him to take ownership when he fucks up.

I don't freak out about stuff very often. I'm a pretty laid back parent. Usually, when I have the freak out moments, it's because one of the kids has decided to freak out themselves.

I had a moment like that this morning. After a calm conversation about what happened, why it was wrong, how my trust is blown at the moment, and the consequences, there was a moment when I asked for the phone (grounded 1 week from it) and he yelled "Stop rushing me!"

I looked at him, baffled that this child, who had just gotten into serious trouble, thought it was okay for him to yell at me regarding his punishment. He then threw said phone and punched the wall and yelled "This is bull shit!"

I sprang up and called him back and we went at it, but I noticed something. The feeling was different. I wasn't so mad I couldn't see straight. It was a controlled anger. I could control it. I didn't feel like I wanted to put his head into the wall. I backed down. I let him go and gather himself.

He did. He came back and asked if he could talk to me. And we did.

There were tears on both ends, but there was good conversation.

I feel like that was a big victory.

Huge.

Today, it will turn out okay. My hope is regenerated.

~Kim

You've GOT To Be...

...kidding me!

So, I'm sitting here on my couch, surveying my (modest) kingdom (why the hell is it called kingdom anyhow? Everyone knows the queen rules it all!) and I notice something.

At first, I thought it was a cobweb...I mean, with my cleaning style it's completely plausible. Then I looked closer.

Nope. Not a cobweb.

My kids have slammed the front door so much they've actually separated the paint from the wall.

No. Really. They have!

I'm constantly saying, "Don't slam the door!" Apparently, it's not working.

They're very literally breaking my house apart piece by piece.

I wonder if locking them in the house for a week will get my point across...Or make me need a drink or twelve.

~Kim

Are You As Tired...

...of this as I am?

It's day five. It's so funny, I keep expecting to just wake up one morning and feel right. Now, the intellectual side of me knows this is bull shit and it doesn't work like that, but the dreamer side of me has an image of how I want things to go.

I'm currently listening to Rose Madder by Stephen King on Audible. (Stop it! I can hear you!) It's really interesting because I'm really identifying with Rose's inner dialogue. She has a voice she calls "Practical-Sensible" and I have that voice too. She has it because she's fleeing from an abusive marriage. I have the same voice, only mine keeps me grounded.

Being grounded is a hard thing for me. I have a tendency to build lofty goals (only to fail usually). My creative mind, the same one I use to write, likes to build my ego up, then "Practical-Sensible" shows up and grapples me back down to earth. Usually, within a few days, and sometimes even immediately.

"Practical-Sensible" reminds me of all the research that I have done on depression, depression medications, therapy, and recovery. She reminds me that there is no miracle cure. She reminds me that depression isn't something I can control. She also reminds me that if I don't find a therapist, the best drugs on Earth can't help me. She reminds me that recovery takes time, energy, and change.

On occasion, I've been known to stifle her, but I'm coming to the realization that I can't.

Well, I shouldn't.

If I didn't have that "Practical-Sensible" voice in my head, my kids would be introverts, wallowing with me in my depression. That voice came into existence when I needed to pick myself by the boot straps (as so many people have told me over the years) for my kids. When I needed to make doctors' appointments, when I needed to advocate for my special needs kid, when I had to wake up every morning and drag myself out of bed and take the kids to school, I needed her to keep me grounded then and she continues to keep me grounded now.

So, I guess I should thank Stephen King for giving an identity for one of the voices in my head that has helped me function.

Who knew a prolific author of horror novels was such a scholar of the human condition?

~Kim