Depression, part 1

I struggle with depression.

I have for years.

It's not the easiest thing to admit or talk about.  But there it is.

I didn't always know that's what it was.  Depression was such an ugly word.   Depression meant you were extremely sad and pathetic. You were at the brink of ending your life. You never laughed or smiled.  You saw no reason to go on. Depression was a death sentence.

I was none of those things, so I couldn't be fighting with depression.

I didn't know what to call it, but I struggled.

I blame some of the struggle on my over sensitive sense of empathy.  It's difficult for me to hear bad news because I immediately feel like I'm right in the middle of whatever is going on.  I'm not trying to sound like I understand everyone's pain in difficult situations.  Not at all.  But if I hear about a tragedy, or loss of life, or even something as simple as a person doing something that is embarrassing, my mind immediately relates to that situation as if I were the person being told the bad news, or whose face was turning red.  My gut turns, or my pulse races, or my head pounds.

I quit watching the news years before 9/11.  I always said that if something were bad enough, someone would call me.  My heart and my head just couldn't handle all the bad news.  And sure enough on 9/11, a friend called and said that I needed to know what was going on.

I didn't start taking anti-depressants until my ex-husband told me he wanted a divorce.  He told me on a Sunday evening and I was at a therapists office on Tuesday morning (first available slot she had) and had an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety prescription that afternoon.

The fact that I'm on meds is also not easy to admit.

I hated the fact that I started taking medication.  I also knew that I needed something to help me deal with the hurricane of emotions that the beginning of the end of my marriage brought flooding to the forefront of my brain.

And now, at least, my struggle had a name.

So now, four years of anti-depressants later, I'm still taking them and I still struggle.

The massive chaos of the breakdown of my marriage is over.  It's no longer the stomach churning, life shattering earthquake it once was.  There are still occasional after shocks, e.g., I live in Texas and two of my kids still live in Pennsylvania, not everything financially has been completely settled, and I'm still hurting for my kids, but the dust is beginning to settle.

I'm also starting over at 43 with no resume and very little job experience. I regularly question my ability to actually "adult" very well. And then I feel guilty that I struggle and get frustrated when I know others have it much worse that I.

It's worse in the mornings and when I'm very tired.  There have been days, when none of the kids were home, where I just couldn't get myself up out of bed.  It was a monumental task to just get up and get going.  Or days when I'd just rather sleep the day away than fight the heavy feelings that often weigh me down. Life just feels exhausting.

I don't struggle with suicidal thoughts.  That's not where my depression takes me.  I just feel tired, so very tired.  The everyday struggles of normal life wear on me, and fall so very heavy on my shoulders.  And often it's not even the struggles in my life.  It's hearing about the struggles in another's life.  Or better yet, worrying about the struggles my kids will face.

I'm not a worrier.  So I don't mean handwringing worrying about something bad possibly happening.  I mean like on a global scale sort of worry.   What kind of world are my kids inheriting? What sort of struggles will they and their children have to face because we, as a whole planet, are not doing a very good job of adulting in order to leave them a clear path forward?

I feel tired, tired of fighting.

I'm tired of fighting for peace and justice.  I'm tired of fighting for love.  I'm tired of fighting against hate.  I'm tired of fighting against the 1%.  I'm tired of fighting along side the other 99%.  I'm tired of fighting bigotry, and ignorance, and intolerance, and greed.

I am tired of fighting. It all makes me so very tired. I'm tired of thinking about all of it. I'm just tired. Did I mention that I'm tired?  Literally achy in my physical bones tired!

To quote in the good ole KJV I know "from whence cometh my help."

I just wish I didn't feel like I needed the help so damn much!

Sitting Uncomfortably

Been a weird week.  Emotionally, strange for me. I have been sitting with it, but not comfortably!

I guess I'm still adjusting to living back in my childhood hometown.  I'm about 5 miles out of a small town of 1300 or so people.  I haven't lived here since I was eighteen.  I moved away for college and only came back for a couple of months in the summers after my first two years of college.  It's a bit of an adjustment after being in the DFW area for 10+ years, followed by Los Angeles and then Philly.  It's a slower pace to be sure.  So there's that.

Then I'm also adjusting to being the full-time parent to just my youngest child.  The two big kids (my teenagers) chose to stay in Philly to be with their friends.  So the house is much quieter, and that is different. I"m still working through all those emotions.

And there is the physical fallout of multiple years of mounds of stress. My energy levels are not as good as they should be and my body aches just about all of the time. I need to be doing more yoga, but can't seem to generate enough drive to properly motivate myself into a consistent daily practice. And most recently the tendon in the crease of both of my elbows decided to start screaming at me if I decide to try to lift anything. I have a feeling it's the fact that my shoulders have been much too tight for far too long and the pain is just sliding down my arms into my elbows.  Next I'll be typing with my nose because I won't be able to move my fingers! I'm trying not to let the physical stuff worry me, but I don't always win that battle.

Plus I'm not at all used to dealing with any sort of physical limitation and it annoys the hell out of me!

And I'm also still learning how to be single. Or at least how to emotionally handle being single. I'm not sure that sentence even makes sense.  I was a kid, then a teenager, then a wife.  Yes, I was married at 19.  I was never a single adult. So now, as a 40+ year old gal, I'm learning all the things about single adulthood I should have learned years ago.

I was a wife for 21+ years.  All of my adult years were spent as a couple. I thought about life and planned for the future as a couple. I never imagined that I'd be single. Things in a marriage are not always perfect, but my philosophy was that you keep working on it and keep working on it.  Giving up was not an option.  So now that I find myself single in my forties I'm a bit at a loss.

It's weird and I don't even know if I can properly put into words the strangeness I feel. I don't really want to be in a relationship.  I cannot imagine trying to have the emotional energy to date and really get to know someone new right now.  It just sounds exhausting.

And I also enjoy my alone time.  I have never had trouble being by myself.  I can sincerely appreciate quiet down time with just me.

So I'm still working on putting my finger on just how I feel.  I guess there are things that pop into my head every now and then and I want to share them with someone and I don't have that certain someone.  Which doesn't really make sense because I have the most wonderful friends and family a person could ever want. I can reach out to many of them at any time and they respond.

Again, not sure I'm making sense.

I think I feel lonely in a new way that I've never really experienced. And I hate to even admit that feeling. I don't like to admit things that make me feel vulnerable. It's difficult for me not to see that as a weakness. I want to be strong and self-sufficient. But I guess I liked being somebody's "other half."  And even admitting that made my stomach turn a little bit. My brain says it sounds yucky and weak to admit that. And for some reason while I'm sitting here writing this I've started to cry.

So I sit with my single, emotional, physically tired, forty-something self. It's shit. It's real. It's me.

I'm trying really hard to like me right now. It's not easy.

Unsettled Summer

This summer has been challenging.  My youngest and I made the transition to Texas in June just after my oldest two finished the school year.  It was not an easy emotional process, leaving behind two of my three kids.  The big kids chose to stay in Pennsylvania for school and friends.  I chose to move to Texas for various reasons all due to the divorce. It was not an easy decision, but a necessary one.

I thought the most difficult part would be driving away, and it was one of the most difficult things I've ever done. I hoped it would be the last big hurdle to getting the divorce transition behind me, but there was another hurdle to come.

I found out a few weeks after I arrived in TX that my ex had been laid off from his job. This possibility was one of the reasons I chose to relocate. His job loss created some difficulty with things that were supposed to take place regarding the house in PA.  The big kids wanted to stay in the house so he was in the process of getting it out of my name.  This came to a halt with the job loss situation.  And so begins another difficult transition for my big kids as they have to move again.

They have been troopers through all of this transition.  I never wanted them to have divorce drama to deal with along with the natural drama that comes with teenage years.  My heart was broken many times over when I was unable to save my marriage and my family.  Kids should just get to be kids and not have to worry about their family falling apart.  It was ridiculously painful for me watching them go through this and not being able to protect them from the pain.

I had hoped that things would start to settle down for all of us.  The little one and I were finally settling in here and the big kids were adjusting to life there.  And now they have to deal with more uncertainty.  They was a lot of drama surrounding this news for the kids, drama that was out of my control.  There was a lot of anger directed towards me that could have been prevented if the situation had been handled better on the other end of things.  But that is out of my control and I have to work on dealing with their feelings and frustrations as best I can.

Needless to say I've spent a lot of time in prayer and meditation.  The prayer is for them to see the truth even when it seems cloudy or hidden, and for them to have the wisdom and emotional strength to deal with the uncertainty.

The meditation has allowed me to sit with all of the chaos and frustration and anger and resentment and hurt and fear.  It hasn't exactly been pleasant, to say the least. But I'm trying not to run and hide from the feelings. I'm trying to take each day as it comes and continually be aware of my breath.  I'm paying attention to the good and the bad.  Trying to let go of the bad and relish the good.  I don't want to miss joy because I'm too wrapped up in frustration or sadness.  Sometimes it's just a moment of joy: a lost tooth, a wildflower handed to me by a grimy little hand, a splash in the pool as the little one learns to dive. But I want to be present.  I don't want to miss the happy moments.

I will say that I'm ready for things to settle down.  The stress has taken it's toll on me physically and that concerns me. My body gets achy much too easily and my energy levels are much lower.  Again, trying not to worry and just breathe. I have much for which I am grateful, and I am working on putting those thoughts more to the forefront of my mind.

Summer will pass soon enough. I will find all the good memories and hold on to those.