I thought a thunderstorm was brewing but it has now turned into a gentle, slow rain. So much for the thunder fury that kept me from falling back asleep. We went to sleep around midnight and Benji came and got in bed with us a little after six a.m. I let him get comfortable enough to doze again then got up, put him back in his bed, and tried to get back to sleep myself because I'm much more of an eight hours plus kind of gal when it comes to sleep requirement. However, my mind would not cooperate so here I am in the wee, not so small hours this morning trying to make good use of my awakeness.
It's been awhile, and my only excuse is that it's summertime. Of course there are twelve more excuses I could rattle off but then I'd start sounding pretty whiny. There's a dark grey thought bubble floating above my head right now asking if turning off the comments was another failed attempt to rev my writing motor. I have to pop it by saying "yes, that experiment has in fact worked." Perhaps I am not writing here as much as those real bloggers out there (the ones who post at least three times a week), but I am much less stressed about it lately, and I feel absolutely no pressure to check my e-mail every twenty minutes after I post, or even at all. And that is quite a relief I must say.
As long as I've had this blog, three times a week has never been doable. That's the most I've ever done probably and I'm sure it hasn't happened more than twice. I just don't seem to be that kind of blogger. Be not afeared though, for I have done some other writing since you last saw me here. What exactly am I driving at this morning?
I was laying in bed thinking how I should get up and go write and that good little post from the Rabbit Room popped in my head. There are these lofty goals in it, like actually writing every day, and some other one about how many words should be written each day too. It's all true, I support these ideas one hundred percent, but I struggle with them too.
My kids are 3, 7 and 11. And they need me. And I'm sure I could be more disciplined and set my alarm every day to get up before them and do my writing then. But I haven't made it a priority, and we've all been staying up later these past weeks since school let out, so sleeping in feels like a must. Like I said, I need my eight hours. I can get pretty grumpy when I don't get them.
Truth be told though, I have been grumpy lately. There are quite a few uncertainties out there for several people I know and love, and when I am worried I tend to pack away my thoughts even more than usual. Rather than sitting down to pray or journal, I pace and work and think. I try to get my life organized by cleaning out closets and such, then I get angry when I can't finish the job because I have to stop and do something silly like feed myself and my family, or clean up the latest spilt milk, or referee a fight the kids are having, or god-forbid, actually spend time with them, playing or reading.
Yeah, that sounds like my attitude for awhile now. Pretty stinky! Bad habits foster even worse ones. Discipline and structure are exactly what I need, but the rebellious teen inside makes faces and rolls her eyes at healthy boundaries and guidelines for good behavior. It's much easier to veg in front of facebook and consume all the latest blogposts from online friends in an attempt to fool myself into thinking I'm not home alone with three kids, completely isolated from the rest of the world. But I'm not really. It just feels like everyone else is having fun and being cool while I have to work and clean and grocery shop. The truth is that they are being grown-ups just like me, and my imagination works over time at helping me feel sorry for myself.
And then I think that perhaps it's not my imagination, or the rebellious teen, or my grumpiness at all, but maybe old Mr. D is sneaking back into my life. I've been off my anti-D since April and I'm a little anxious about him showing up again. Why did I stop taking meds? Well that's a whole 'nother post, but basically I thought things were going well enough and maybe it wasn't quite working as well as it used to. I'd been tracking my moods and felt like the variations were usually based on my hormonal cycle so I would try to watch and be prepared when those monthly changes came along. Plus, I just didn't want to be on something the rest of my life and worried about what it might be doing to my brain.
Remember that scene at the end of A Beautiful Mind where the old man sees all the imaginary people walking around with him, but he just chooses to ignore them? That's what I was hoping I could learn to do with my negative feelings, convince myself they were false. Now that I have experienced being well and mentally healthy, I want to fight off the depression on my own. I think I did pretty well in April May and June. July seems to be kicking my butt.
I don't have a nice box to store this post in, but it feels good getting it all out on the table. The rain is picking up now, so children will be waking soon and I need to go get myself ready. Thanks for stopping by and reading to the end. Cheers.