Welcome Back Old Friend

I would like to welcome you back my old friend depression. I thought I had left you behind but now I see you were just waiting to surprise me. Thanks for that. Good thing I finally got an appointment with a therapist. Please hold off on the paralyzing mire until next week when said appointment is scheduled.

I just feel so defeated.

Maybe I Just Need A Nap

A good friend recently suggested that I may want to resume taking antidepressants.

I'll give you a minute to let that sink in a bit.

I had thought I was doing well. I had thought that maybe I needed to start therapy again, maybe, possibly. But that coupled with the fact that I think it's time to find a new therapist... seems a bit, oh I don't know, overwhelming. I did not think I was anywhere near the antidepressant stage.

This does not give me much confidence in my current state of mind.

I don't even have time for a haircut. Spring! Sports! No life for you! How am I to make time for therapy? Do I really want to have to start all over explaining my brand of crazy? That just seems so exhausting. After my recent spate of medical doctors and their serious lack of helping me, I have decided to suck it up and ignore any and all physical problems. I keep thinking I should do the same with the crazy. Except the crazy affects the people who live with me. And that is not really fair. GAH! I don't know. Maybe I'll just go to bed early tonight and continue to
ignore, ignore, ignore.

The Angst That Ate NY

Google Ad on my blog:

Make Him Fall In Love
How To Become The Woman He Adores And Never Wants To Leave

This is why I have a single google ad on my blog. Not for the money (none). For the entertainment value. Seriously, FUN-NY.

In other news, angst. Get over yourself already.

Wish I could but I'm in full on angst mode. Marriage makes me cry. No, not the husband, the marriage. Hating job more with each passing moment. The whispering - is it you they're talking and laughing about? Or are you just paranoid?

My guess is, I'm highly paranoid. In every area of my life.

The children. They neeeeed me. My mother is angryyyyy.

I might as well go eat worms. Everyone hates me and I can't keep on top of everything. I feel like I made a huge mistake going to work full time and am even missing and romanticizing my stay at home days. Yes, it's that bad.

Any suggestions for a good Get Out of Angst recipe?

It's almost like I'm 13 again.

Questions about Marriage

A few days ago someone wrote about the one thing women don't discuss with each other being the bad parts of a good marriage. Now first, I wish I could remember who said it so I could link to them but my memory, it is bad. And second, sadly, the first thing that came to mind was not, why yes, you are correct! (that was the 2nd thing that came to mind) The first was, how do you know if you have a good marriage. How do you know whether it's just a rough spot or if it's really in the toilet?

Now to tell you the truth, I'm a bit worried the answer is along the lines of, "If you have to ask you don't have a good marriage." Which may very well be the case. Or maybe not. HOW DOES ONE KNOW?

Growing up I did not have a good model. I don't think I've witnessed first hand what a good marriage looks like. I know people who have good marriages or what I'm guessing are good marriages, but I don't really see it happening. I've asked what they think makes theirs a good marriage and sadly, most of them say it's better than not being married. Hmmm.

The other thing I've realized is I think it's me. It's not that I don't have a good marriage, it's that I expect too much. It seems people in good marriages realize the things about their spouse that are less than fabulous and they are accepting of them. While I, I take it personally and let things make me unhappy. So maybe I'm just not cut out for marriage.

**As an aside, I repeatedly spell marriage wrong. I must remember the I comes before the A. And does that mean anything? /end aside**

I also hear from friends that they put up with the crap that drives them crazy because they know it will be the same with every man. And I agree. It's not that I think I'll find someone better. I know intellectually that this is as good as it gets. The lack of attention for the past several years is better than no attention if I'm alone. I have to just accept what is and what isn't and reach a zen place with it all. I'm not so good at the zen thing.

I asked someone recently, how do you know when it's time to end it? I get if there is a serious problem like abuse or something that could destroy your family that it's time. But what if it's just unhappiness? What if it's just that when you're together you no longer talk and when you ask about something in his life he brushes you off. What if he only pays attention when he's upset with you or is horny? Is that enough? Should it be? Would it be better to be alone?

I'm guessing I just expect too much. We both have a lot on our plates right now. The kids keep us busy. He's making a job change and I just went full time. Yada, yada, blah, blah, blah. So what are your views on a good marriage? What makes it all worth it?

6 Word Memoir & One Word

I've seen it a bunch of places now and I can't really remember where. (Sorry to whomever I'm neglecting to link to.)

I've been having a bit of fun with it yesterday & today, although reading through the results makes it sound like I've been very depressed. I assure you, I'm not. Still, kind of sad.

Some of the results:

• Four sons, one husband, male dog
• big dreams, always trying, never succeeding
• missing, needing, craving, searching for passion
• Discomfort in skin, want to shine
• enjoys many things, passion for none
• midlife, who am I? Not sure.
• Much potential, achieved mediocrity, missing passion
• Paradoxical, loves life but missing passion
• mother, wife, daughter, photographer, knitter, provider
• Can't do it all. No, really.

I think I prefer the concept of having one word. I recently read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Fabulous book btw. And after reading it I thought about my word. The one word that is my essence. I found it. Paradox. A noun, I'm definitely a noun, not a verb. And the word is... me.

I've Become One of Those People

I used to be a person who followed directions religiously. Seriously. To. The. Letter. Who knew what would happen if I veered off the straight and narrow. I might *gasp* do it wrong. And wrong was bad. Wrong was unacceptable.

But now, now I'm a rebel. Now I can't seem to follow directions without changing things up.

It started with recipes. I'd substitute this thing here or that thing there. Usually because I didn't have exactly what I needed or couldn't find it at the store. Then I started knitting and apparently I bore easily. So I'd make the handle on a purse different or make a different brim or add the beginning of a thumb to my fingerless gloves.

And now? Now I can't stop. Now I can't follow any direction without changing things mid cook or mid knit. It's a sickness. I start out trying to stick with the pattern or recipe and then all of a sudden I throw caution to the wind and change it up. Usually it turns out okay. Sometimes it works out wonderfully. Sometimes not so much.

Somehow it's like I let my inner rebel out and now she won't go back.

Early Warning System

After 37 years I have finally realized the early warning system my body has for telling me something is wrong.

Up until yesterday I always thought my body hated exercise. Everytime I would decide to start exercising I would get sick. I still remember the first time in 8th grade when I decided it would be a good idea to start running. Now I've never mentioned here that I don't run. Not even as a child. Not even if I was being chased by a person-eating bear. DO. NOT. RUN. But for some reason, at the age of 13, I decided to start. I figured I would just push through whatever discomfort I felt and keep going. Everyone told me you just had to push past the pain and then you'd get that runner's high. Not so much for me. What I got was a worsening pain in my side until I could barely walk. And two days later I got an emergency appendectomy. I have never run again.

Since then there have been more minor things. I joined a gym and tried to push through the exhaustion. You'll have more energy if you exercise everyone told me. Well, I wore myself out to the point my doctor discovered I need B12 shots. I get an urge to start doing yoga again and on day two get a sinus infection. I don't know about you but I can't do downward facing dog when someone is jamming razor blades into my sinuses. By the time I'm better I've lost the will to exercise.

So I have exercised in starts and stops for quite a few years my whole life. At the end of December, right when I was getting ready to start working a new full time job I have the overwhelming desire to start working out again. So the next morning I joined a gym down the street and paid for a three month membership (I'm nothing if not aware of my shortcomings with sticking it out.) figuring I could re-up if I managed to keep going.

A couple of days in I started waking up with lower abdominal pain. I thought I'd stressed the muscles in my lower back/abs doing nautilus so I laid off those exercises. The pain didn't go away.

By this point it was January. I was in a new job and for the first time ever, didn't have insurance. One month of no insurance. And while I willed my children and husband to not get sick or break any bones (especially bones with ski club starting) I seemed to have forgotten to put my own body on notice. My body thought it would sneak in a UTI. A dandy little infection I hadn't felt the burn of in so many years the doctor couldn't find what they had prescribed last. So yes, I couldn't hold out long enough to forgo the self-pay rates. I told her of my abdominal pain and wondered if it was an early warning of the UTI. She treated the infection and said if the other pain didn't go away to come back in February when my insurance kicked in.

Three weeks into January I gave up the gym for yoga at home hoping to bring some balance and flexibility into my workout and body. The pain got worse and I couldn't eat a cup of yogurt without feeling so full it was uncomfortable. The yoga workout got shortened and tamed. Come February I was back at the doctors. She sent me for an xray. (which, what the hell? no bones were involved.) The diagnosis was mild constipation. Miralax was prescribed and I went home. I would like to mention here that I am no stranger to constipation. I was sure this wasn't the problem but I'm always up for being wrong. I figured it wouldn't hurt so I took the medicine and took care of the mild constipation.

The pain. It was sometimes okay and sometimes worse. I was not losing weight but exercising and eating less than I have in years. Then the nausea started. Now I've heard that when some women get nauseous they don't eat. They feel sick so why would they eat. I eat nonstop. So for three days now I've been eating every salty food I can find. (Has to be salty and bread-like)

I went back to the doctor yesterday. (She's actually a PA. And she's great. I love our PA.) She checked me out and suggested an ultrasound. Then she wanted to check in with my physician. Now although I know this is fab of her, she's never done this before. She came back and said no ultrasound. You are going for a CT scan. And another xray. And have a follow-up a week later with the doctor. There were no suggestions of what might be wrong. There were no speculations of any kind. There were no assurances. Nothing. And when I walked out of that office I realized that this is the first time I have EVER left a doctor's office without some diagnosis or suggestion or speculation of what might be the problem.

Now my intuition has been buzzing very loudly since mid-January or so. I've been afraid to voice my concern because this is not a condition you talk about unless you've been diagnosed. Even then people don't like to talk about it. They are afraid of it. It's not something you throw around lightly. Of course you don't have ovarian cancer. Why would you even suggest something like that? What is wrong with you?

I must add here that I have spoken to someone at work about my symptoms (no mention of my intuition's diagnosis). She informed me yesterday that her daughter had ovarian cancer at the age of 27 (cancer free for 5 years). The symptoms were extremely similar. I can not tell you what a relief it was to be able to talk to someone about my fears without them telling me I will be fine - it's probably not that at all. Don't worry until you find out. (The words from the one well meaning friend I voiced my concerns to.) It was a relief that someone just said, "I'm so sorry you're going through this." And she also suggested I read surviver stories if I felt the need to read about it on the internet. Brilliant woman. I may have to buy her a gift.

Still, I haven't done that and I haven't done more than a preliminary search of symptoms. I've been busy telling myself that it may just be some kind of infection. It may not be this dreaded thing. But in my heart of hearts, I'm not buying it. I would totally be okay to be told I'm wrong. It has happened before. I'm up for the humiliation of being called a hypochondriac. Really, maybe it is all in my head. Maybe it's some totally innocuous thing that can be fixed with a mild laxative. Wait, not that. That didn't work. Maybe an antibiotic or a D&C or maybe it's just early menopause and I'll have to live with it for a while. I can do that. I just don't want to feel the need to exercise ever again.

Some of the Things I Have Learned in the Past Year

• I need to work full time.
• I am needy in the physical contact, attention sense of the word.
• I am not as independent as I always believed.
• My job skills are not as refined as I'd like.
• I do not like people who lie.

Newness and Mediocrity

Anita brought up a good point in the comments of my last post:

"I think this age (middle) is a tricky one. We can see that we haven't accomplished everything we want, and we can see that we won't, and we are glimpsing our own mortality. We yearn to feel. I think that makes it a time rife for seeking newness. We all need to be careful of the form in which that newness manifests itself."

I've come to the conclusion she is right. So very, very right. For the last couple of years I have been looking for that newness. I haven't looked for it in a male (Good God, I certainly don't need another male in my life!) But I have been looking at my career path - or lack there of -, my creative life, my home and just about every other area of my life. The difference is, the newness I look for starts within.

I have realized, I'm not happy with how I'VE turned out. I'm certainly less than I expected to be. And there it is. Another cliche. I'm not at all the person I thought I'd be. I thought I was special and different and could do anything I put my mind to. That was how I was raised. I've learned that is not the case. I am the same. I am like many people. And even when I put my mind to something and try and try to succeed at it, it doesn't happen. Not to say that some things will never happen, but really... I'm very mediocre.

There are so many better artists. So many better writers. So many better "fill-in the blank" here. I believe there is room for many people to succeed in every field. Room for everyone. I don't think that if someone else succeeds it means I can't. What I have realized over the last 8 years or so is that even though I could succeed, I won't. Because I'm just not talented enough.

I keep thinking that if I keep working at it - it will happen. But honestly, I don't love anything quite that much. I worked at writing for a solid 6 years. And then? I'd had enough. My attention span is just not that long when there is no recognition EVER.

But now I've run out of time for this post so I shall continue at a later date. Or not.

Just Another Cliche

I suddenly realized at the age of 36 that my life is just a collection of cliches. Sad, but true. Prepare to hear what you've heard all before.