Balancing Act

I'm sitting by a fireplace, flames dancing exquisitely.  In front of me there is a splendidly decorated Christmas tree full of colorful lights, surrounded by a functioning electric train. Holiday music plays at just the perfect volume throughout the house on the speaker system. The sun is setting, and the street is lined with luminaries waiting to be lit at 6:00 p.m.  Boxes are stacked beside me waiting to be wrapped.  I have a small piece of dark salty chocolate and a glass of wine calling to me on the end table. It's like I stepped right into Mayberry.

 It's perfect. Almost.

I'm sitting here alone.  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my alone time.  But tonight it's bittersweet. Tonight I'm working through all the emotions of missing my kids on Christmas Eve. They are with their father, eight houses down the street.

We are divorced, and on most days I handle this fact just fine.  I don't miss him at all. But my family being together, that's a whole other ball game.

I go back and forth between being fine with the situation to gut wrenching agony. And the hardest part is I don't always see the emotional switch coming.

I'm here in Philly for a week so I could squeeze in extra time with my big kids over their short winter break. It's been wonderful.  I'll take any extra minute with the kids that I can get.  I'm blessed to be able to travel up here.  Blessed to have such wonderful friends on my old street that welcome me into their home anytime I'm here.  Blessed to have such amazing children with whom I enjoy spending time.

I have so much to be grateful for, and I do not want to minimalize that or take it for granted.  And when I feel sad about my family being split apart, I almost feel guilty because so many have it so much worse.

But the sadness is there, and I do not want to pretend that it doesn't exist. 

I'm working on finding the balance between gratitude and honestly admitting my feelings of loss, sadness, and anger.

I do not like those feelings.  I want them to go away and leave me alone.  I do not want to be angry at my ex for making the choices he made to end our marriage and thus separating me from my kids half of the holidays. But along with the sadness and loss there is anger.

Anger is exhausting to me. It's not something I dwell upon, but as I sit and pay attention I notice that it shows up.

The whirlwind of love, excitement, joy, and gratitude swirled in with sadness, loss, anger, and frustration makes for a mess of my mindfulness meditation.

I'm not sure how to properly deal with all of it, so tonight I chose to write and share.  These are my feelings.  This is my heart: broken, beating, full, tired, teary, happy, grateful, and aware.

I'm learning to breathe through all of it.  I'm learning that my heart keeps beating. I'm learning that I must recognize and honor all the feelings. I'm learning balance. I'm not good at it, but I'm learning.

I'm

I'm back in my hometown.  I've been living back in east Texas for 5 months now.  I'm adjusting.  Only having my youngest living with me (my teenagers are in Philly) has been quite different.  I went from being a full time mom of three kiddos to daily parenting just one.  I cannot adequately put into words just how it feels to have my family split apart, but I'm breathing through the process and working on mindfully recognizing all the feels and making sure I fully appreciate the happy moments while not ignoring the sads.

My body is still recovering from the stress of the Divorce Years. That's what I'm calling the four years from my ex's initial declaration that he'd like a divorce, until the divorce was finalized.  It's kinda like The Wonder Years, only it's not. There were the two years that I fought to save my marriage followed by the two years we were separated, hammering out the details of the divorce paperwork.  And technically it's not completely over because I'm still waiting on a couple of re-finance deals to get my name off a two more rental properties we owned.  Once that's done, I think the dust can finally start to settle.

However, what I have noticed lately is that I no longer require 10-12 hours of sleep each night.  I know, that's a lot, right!  But it became the norm after the separation.  And just within the last month I've started to find myself being able to get out of bed a little easier having only logged 8 or 9 hours of sleep.

Don't get me wrong, my body is still reeling from all the stress.  My shoulders are ridiculously tight (my purse gets heavy and anyone who knows me knows my purse is always SMALL) and I ache just about everywhere. My joints and muscles ache enough to cause me concern, but I'm trying not to worry, because well, that can't make me better and will definitely make me worse.

I'm trying to be healthier.  I'm working on taking sugar out of my diet (not an easy job) hoping that will help. I have yet to manage a consistent daily yoga practice.  I am afraid I'm about to reach the point where I don't just want to do yoga, or need to yoga, but I HAVE to do yoga.  I know better.  I know I should be doing yoga daily.  I also know that I should not beat myself up for not doing all the things I know I should be doing.

I'm working on learning who I am in this new life of mine.  I'm still a mom, but not a wife.  I'm still homeschooling my youngest, but I'm working.  I am figuring out what it feels like to be a single adult. I'm trying to decide if I like the feeling or not, or even what the feeling is.  I'm reorienting, and getting to know myself.  I'm confused.  I'm happy.  I'm achy.  I'm unsure.  I'm anxious.  I'm settled.  I'm determined.

It Ain't All Bad

It's been brought to my attention that lately all my blogs have been about my struggles.  I guess that's true because I write to work through some of my more difficult feelings, and I share my writings because it helps me feel connected to my people.  :) I hope it also helps others know that they don't struggle alone.

Most of my friends that read my blog are also friends of mine on Facebook, and Facebook is where I post the lighter side of my life.  It's easier to keep in touch with friends through Facebook rather than my blog.

I love seeing the first day of school pictures, the pictures of babies that are making their debut into the world, funny cat videos, and all the rest that keep us all smiling. I post pictures of me and my kiddos, and we almost always have a smile on our faces. And the one time we don't smile, it's because we are carrying on the family tradition of the famous "silly face" shot.

It occurred to me that not everyone who reads my blog also sees my Facebook.  And if the blog is all you get, well then it could seem like my life is rather dark, when it's actually quite the contrary.

I smile most of the time.  I am finding my way in my new little life.  Pieces are beginning to fall into place. New rhythms are being created to which I'm learning to dance. I'm settling in and I'm finding peace. Life is good and only getting better.

I still miss my big kids terribly.  That is one area of my heart that I don't see healing up any time soon. But I'm learning to live with that break in my heart, and I'll be alright.

I'm sitting here with my windows open, enjoying the light breeze and the crickets serenading me in the background.  I've got Pandora playing my favorite piano instrumental songs.  I've got a glass of red wine on the end table. My feet are up. My most recent blog is almost finished.

There are still boxes to be unpacked (and probably a few more emotions too), but they are not going anywhere and I'm not stressed at all about them.  So tonight is good. Nah, tonight is great!

I have the best kids, family, and friends for which any one person could ever ask.  I am blessed beyond measure.

I hope and pray you feel the same way too.

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.

Big Girl Face

I'm packing and getting everything ready for the big move.  My body is achy and my right knee will be thrilled to never have to climb stairs again.  The trailer will arrive today between noon and 4:00. I plan to use the dolly my neighbor lent me to start toting boxes out.  Saturday, with the help of a few friends, we'll load all the big stuff.

The basement is finished with only a couple of boxes waiting to be brought upstairs.  I finished the attic yesterday with my littlest's help. My room is done along with my littlest's room.  All of those boxes are down stairs, minus one, and stacked in the garage.  The kitchen is almost completed, aside from the cookware I use everyday, one coffee cup, and a few dishes for daily use.  Now on to the laundry room and to finish up in the garage.

So I'm keeping myself busy and trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

Aside from packing I've been able to spend some quality time with my big kids too.  We all played the game Headbands the other day.  The youngest one had the best time, laughing and gawking at the various things her siblings were trying to guess they were.

I watched my middle one learn to use the riding lawnmower and mow my yard at Mach 1.  It was hilarious and wonderful to see her grinning and singing along to the song in her head as she whizzed by me on the mower.

My oldest sat down on the couch beside me the other day and picked up his sister's guitar.  He strummed and sang a song he's teaching himself.  It's a funny (barde type) morbid tale of revenge and he sang and played it so well. I didn't realize how much he had learned on the guitar.

Lots of great moments in this final week with all my kids.

So along with the laughter and smiles, I've been dealing with random outbreaks of tears, which currently blur my eyes as I'm trying to type.  As I watched my middle Nascar the lawn, I smiled and cried.  I listened to my oldest sing and play and couldn't hold back the tears.

I don't want to miss my kids.

I moving and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it's the right step for me.

But I don't want to miss my kids.  I don't want to live without all of them just yet.

They have good friends with good families and for this I am extremely grateful.  Their father is attentive and a good provider.  They have chosen to stay with their friends and their schools and I understand their choice, but it's god-awful difficult.

I play tricks on my mind saying it's like boarding school.  And this helps some.  However boarding school is something I would never have chosen on my own.

My oldest noticed that I was tearing up the other day when he was playing and singing.  He paused and asked if I was alright.  I told him I was, because it was true.  I am alright.  I also told him that I really enjoy hearing him play.  Then I laughed and said that sometimes I want to snap his father in half.  He laughed with me and then continued his song of revenge.  :)

When he was done, he put the guitar down and gave me a big hug.  He asked again if I was ok.  I told him that I really was ok. I also told him that he would have to facetime me at least once a week and fill me in on his life.  He promised he would.   I said that I'm putting on my "Big Girl" face and we'll get through it.

Then I quickly got back to work, singing a line from the song he'd recently finished, before he saw the tears come streaming again.

I want them to know that I will miss them and that this is difficult for me, because I love them so very much. I want them to know how much they mean to me.  But I don't want them to worry.

Not once in my teen years did I ever have to worry about my parents emotional well-being.  My parents were at every event, camera in hand, cheering me on and supporting me in every endeavor.  They were a constant and I am forever grateful.  I want my kids to be kids while they still can.  I don't want them to worry or fret about me.

I am wearing my big girl undies and I'll put on my big girl face.  I want them to see love, compassion, kindness, concern, and strength.  It's not about shielding them from my pain, but about showing them how to deal with $h!t and keep your heart open and your head held high.

I hope that's what they learn from me. 

Big girl face on and here we go.