I Opened This...

yesterday to write a post.

It was day 15...Today is day 16.

My stress level is so high. I'm back to minimal functioning.

Did you ever have a person in your life that was just constantly on you for every single mistake you've made that they know of? You know, the type of person to remind you of the past and tell you you're doing it wrong in the present. They also tell you that whatever you're doing for the future won't work because of the past. Like the past is some kind of fucking blueprint that you have to follow.

As if you can never move forward because you've changed (or are trying to change).

Let me tell you something. You might move back and forth on the same landscape, but there is no need to follow the same footsteps. Now, normally, the footprints would slowly wear away if you didn't use them anymore, right? Imagine a person who constantly puts you back in those footsteps, even though you know they're not on the path you want to take.

I have a person like that in my life.

Yeah, I hear you telling me to cut this person out, but there are just somethings that I cannot do. That is one of them.

I'm working on blocking out the noise so that I can concentrate on what I want to achieve (and come back and be very "BOOYAH! I TOLD you I could! I'll accept your apology whenever you're ready.").

I'm learning how to prioritize. Boy, that's something else. I'm also trying to learn how to follow through, something that I've struggled with as long as I can remember.

That being said, I have accomplished a lot in the public eye, but someone else was holding me accountable and I couldn't let them know that sometimes I just can't even make it out of bed. I couldn't let the world know that I was battling depression. I don't want sympathy. Never did.

I didn't want anyone who was not in my inner circle to know what I was like behind closed doors.

Once, I drove to work and sat in the parking lot for fifteen minutes convincing myself to go in. The day after that, I stopped picking up jobs. I knew then that things were going to get much worse.

Now I'm trying to weed my way out of the mire and I keep getting shoved back in. Due to the fact that my life has been a mess for twenty years, I'm not able to change. Not able to get my shit in order. I'm incapable.

BULL SHIT!

I no longer feel responsible for someone's opinion of me, my mistakes, or my life choices. I have given myself permission to let go, ignore, or possibly fight back.

I'm empowering myself!

~Kim

So We're Going To Skip...

ahead a little bit.

It's day 14.

(My last post said day 11 and it was really day 10, I guess that's good that I'm losing track? Who knows)

We had a very busy weekend of travel baseball for K. I was so exhausted when we finally did get home each day that it was all I could do to change out of my clothes and go to bed.

We're in transition. A HUGE transition. A "buckle your seat belt because it's going to be a bumpy ride" transition.

I'm hopeful and terrified at the same time.

I had time to think about things this weekend while I was driving all over hell between hollering at the kids to keep their hands to themselves, telling them to knock off the fighting, and answering the "Are we there yet?" question a million and a half times.

I think we're finally in a good place. We're on the same page, the Patriarch and I.

While he's transitioning to a new job in the same field with a new company (after getting monumentally screwed by the previous one), we're talking about money.

Money has been my coping mechanism for everything that has stressed me out over the years. I haven't been able to rein in my spending. This has put us in ridiculous spots over the years, yet I've never changed.

Actually, that's not entirely true. I've changed a little. I used to spend out of spite. I would spend on the most ridiculous things on the planet. I blew money like I was (a much smarter, more considerate, and better looking) Donald Trump.

I kept up with the Joneses, the Smiths, the Appenbauckers, and everyone else on the planet. The weird thing is, it didn't matter. I didn't care if I had cooler things, it was simply a coping mechanism.

As they say, old habits are hard to break.

This is the first time the Patriarch and I have actually talked about how screwed up our money situation is. Today is the big day. We're going to lay out everything. (Mostly me because I run the finances) Time to come clean. Time to make changes. There's no reason that we shouldn't have a fat bank account (other that we're both impulsive as fuck) and no money worries.

He sacrifices a TON so we can have what we have, but there's so much more to it.

Anyhow, I'm crazily worried about this transition. I'm going to have to talk myself out of a lot of things like eating out all the time (laziness) and stupid unneeded crap (that just calls my name).

We're going to do it though. HAVE to do it. The kids are getting older and they're going to need our help to transition to their adult lives.

I'm hopeful. I feel better every single day. I still have to force myself to do things though. Stupid little things like take a shower or change out of my pajamas. Shoot, even putting dishes into the dishwasher (which is a ridiculously simple task) takes twenty minutes of cajoling.

Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. When I go to beat myself up about it later, I try to remind myself these shitty habits were not created over night so they will not be broken over night.

My short-term memory is still shit. I keep hoping it'll come back once the clouds have relatively cleared, but I'm starting to get cynical about that.

For example, the Patriarch keeps reminding me about a conversation we had last time he was home and I cannot remember it for the life of me and it was IMPORTANT! I mean, seriously, why can't I remember stuff?! UGH!

Now, I feel like it's gotten a little bit better, but still. I just want to be normal. Oh how I hate that word, but it's what I want, more than anything in the world.

Still waltzing steadily forward, even though I feel like I'm offbeat.

~Kim

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