It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

I told myself I was going to get back to my blog and I’ve almost done that.  I’ve posted more lately and have even attempted a few Daily Prompts, when they suit me.  I enjoy writing, I really do.  It helps me gather my thoughts, stroll down memory lane, vent, or document my life.  But, I get busy.  When I get busy, I push my writing to the bottom of my “To Do” list, where it is quickly forgotten.  Before I know it, months have passed.  When I finally make my way back to my poor blog, there it sits, dusty on the shelf, waiting for my attention.

Since today is a beautiful, sunny Friday in my little world, I am taking the time to tell you that I’m happy.  Life is good.  I am blessed.  My life has taken a path I could have never predicted.  It’s been one helluva journey, but I’m grateful for each and every single day – all the dark days, the mistakes, the good times, the bad times.  My life experiences have made me the person I am today.  I won’t apologize for the person I have become, because I like me 🙂

I’m proud of the writing I’ve shared and hope to do more in the future.  “Practice makes perfect,” they say.  I don’t think I’ll quite ever make it to “perfect” but, man, I really love the journey!

Daily Writing Prompt: Comfort Zone

What are you more comfortable with — routine and planning, or laissez-faire spontaneity?

I’m just not a go-with-the-flow kinda gal.  Never have been.  I like things steady, predictable, smooooth flowing with no bumps.  I don’t like change.  Period.  I’m always prepared.  Period.  Change gives me anxiety.  I don’t know what to expect.  Change is unpredictable.  Change goes against my plans.  Change makes me cringe.

And then I got married, had kids, got a divorce, met a new guy, got married, moved, got a different job, put my kids in different schools and BOY OH BOY did things change!

Never in my WILDEST dreams did I think I’d have quite this much upheaval in my life.  I was unhappily married for 18 years.  Yes, I was unhappy, but it was as predictable as life can get with a bipolar husband who loved his whiskey.  I was determined to make it work because I was comfortable.  I had the kids, a job, the house, the pets – all items fairly predictable and somewhat stable.  I was holding it together.

Until the day I didn’t.

My then-husband liked to find fault with me.  I was overweight.  When I lost weight and worked out, it was because I was having an affair and then suddenly the house wasn’t clean enough.  When I cleaned the house until the point of exhaustion, I was tired because I was having an affair and I was suddenly a horrible cook.  When I worked harder at becoming a better cook, I was having another affair and suddenly the kids weren’t behaving and it was my fault.  Do you see a pattern here?

I COULDN’T WIN!!!!  Not only did I never ever ever cheat on my husband, when in the hell would I have had time to do so???  So, one day I figured it out and admitted it to myself:  He’s a bipolar alcoholic and he’s looking for my faults so he can put the blame on me instead of taking a good long look at himself in the mirror.  On that day, I said the phrase that finally broke him:

“Add it to the list.”

Five simple words signaled the end of my marriage.  Everytime after that first time, when he would point out one of my numerous perceived faults, I would reply, “Add it to the list.”  When he finally asked me to explain my response, I did so fully and without holding back.  He told me I was crazy and just messing with his mind by telling him he’s bipolar.  (Author’s note:  He later discovered that I was right.)  He said he was merely pointing out things on which I need to improve.

Long story short, we tried to make it work for a few more years and it just…  didn’t.

Yes, it was hard to divorce and I’m still dealing with the fallout.  The kids are still coping as best they can.

But we’re okay.

In the words of the remarkable Patty Loveless, “Life’s about changing.  Nothing ever stays the same.”

It took me a long time to realize I can’t control everything.  I can’t do it all.  I’d still rather chew off my own arm than ask for help, but I’ve also learned the mantra IT IS WHAT IT IS.

Every day is a gift and we must strive to make the most of it.  I’ve learned to be much more laidback and to not get so fired up if there’s a change in the schedule.  Life is much different now.  I have a wonderful and supportive husband who is a great partner in life.  He steps up to help with the kids, he helps with their events and activities, he cooks, he helps around the house and, most importantly, when I’ve driven myself into a “gotta get it all done NOW” tizzy, he asks me to sit down, take a moment, to breathe, he gives me a hug and a kiss, then asks how he can help.  And he MEANS it.  It makes all the difference in my life and he’ll never know how much I appreciate him for doing that.

His simple selfless gestures and unsolicited offers of help mean that I’m not alone in this life.  I now have a partner to help me ride the waves Life throws our way.

It’s nice 🙂

That being said, I still like to be prepared as much as possible.

1.  When I travel, I make a list of items to pack.  Before we leave our destination to go home, I pull the list back out, to make sure we don’t forget anything.

2.  I like to pack a cooler with food, drinks and snacks when going on driving trips, in case we get hungry or thirsty.

3.  I keep a small tote in my car containing the following items:  A small motorized air pump (for flat or low tires), a box of bendy straws (to allow my son to drink his Gatorade with his football or baseball helmet on), a jar of peanut butter (for my hypoglycemic daughter in an emergency), plastic spoons, cheese crackers and a variety of pudding or fruit cups (for a quick snack), a package of new socks (for whichever kid forgets their socks – it happens more often than I’d like to admit), baby wipes (kids are messy) and bottled water.

4.  No, I don’t carry around a huge bag or purse.  When I’m shopping I take my phone, a debit card, my driver’s license and my car keys.  I see no reason to lug around a huge bag all the time.  I leave the purse in the car.  I can always go back for something, if needed.

5.  BUT!  in my purse, right now, I DO have:  My checkbook, a credit card (for emergency only), all my other cards (insurance, frequent shopper cards, etc.), hand lotion, lipstick, chapstick, spare change, an emory board, Ibuprophen, antiacids, a small makeup compact, deodorant (for some reason, this is the thing I forget most often each morning), and Neosporin.  It’s a small, EXTREMELY well organized little bag.

I’m a list maker.  To do lists, grocery lists, reminder lists.  I’m so thankful for my iPhone!  It keeps me organized without making me carry around extra junk!

Yes, I like to be prepared for anything.  But, I’m almost 40 and have 2 very active kids.  Thankfully, I have a husband who makes me stop on occasion to take a breath while he holds my hand.  I can deal with the ebbs and flows of life, as long as he’s there.

And I’m thankful.

180 Degrees

Tell us about a time you did a 180 — changed your views on something, reversed a decision, or acted in a way you ordinarily don’t.

The very first thing my ex-mother-in-law said to me was not, “Hello.”  or “Nice to meet you.”  It was, as she peered deeply into my eyes, “Why, you’re as old as Methuselah.”  She didn’t mean I physically LOOKED old (at the ripe old age of 19 I still looked like a little kid).  I didn’t take it as an insult.  I’d understood what she’d meant immediately:

What she was telling me was, “You have an old soul.”

She was right.

My entire life I’ve been old.  Always responsible, full of common sense and wisdom beyond my years.  Even in high school I told my friends, “Maybe when I’m 30 I’ll feel like myself.”

I was right.

I developed depression around the age of 13 and was diagnosed with Adolescent Depression at 15.   It was a tough time for me, both personally and emotionally.  As a product of the welfare system, I could have easily taken the easy road and continued the viscous cycle of dependence.  However, being the “old soul” I was, I chose a different path.

I chose to focus on my college education.  Yes, I got married between my Sophomore and Junior years, but I finished my degree.  I also chose to wait to have children until I was 27, a full 7 years into my marriage.  I thought I had a handle on life.

Little did I know.

Before I birthed my children, my old friends, Depression and Anxiety, continued to follow me throughout my life.  I can remember on many occasions wondering to myself while driving, “what would happen if I just ran my car into that tree?  Would it be enough to kill me?”  I never went through with it, simply because I was afraid I’d live.  I didn’t want to be a burden on anyone.

I also remember panic attacks.  That awesome feeling of heart-pounding-can’t-breathe- absolute-terror that strikes without warning.

I went to the doctor and I was placed on medication.  Typical response by the medical community, sadly.  I used it for a while and decided I was “all better”.

I wasn’t on any type of medication when I got pregnant.  My first child was born 4 months after I turned 27.  Quite surprisingly (and unplanned), my second child was born 6 months into my 28th year.  They are, by far, my highest achievement in life.  They have taught me so much and I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to be their mother.

A couple of months after my son was born, my old friend Anxiety paid me a visit.  While driving down the road one day, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the fear that another driver was going to lose control of their car and hit us.  However, being the common sense-filled person I am, I realized there were no other cars on the road at that time.  Thus, I recognized the thought as irrational.  By this time, I’d been dealing with Ms. Anxiety for a long time.  I understood she was not my friend, but I convinced myself I was maybe just going through some post-partum issues.  I told myself I’d wait a few more months to give my hormones a chance to get back to normal (whatever normal is LOL).

Six months passed.  I was so busy!  With a then 21-month old and a 6-month old, I was running myself ragged.  I had very little help and was pushing myself, as I’m apt to do.

Anxiety and Depression refused to leave me alone.  I kept telling them our friendship was over, but every morning they were there, running around in my brain, telling me “you’re never going to be enough”.  Good enough.  Smart enough, The house wasn’t clean enough.  You haven’t lost enough weight.  You’ll never be a good enough mom.

Enough already!

I went back to the doctor.  Yes, more meds.  Yes, they worked.  Anxiety and Depression were vanquished!  Relegated to the dark recesses of my brain where the medications kept them covered and hidden.  However, the meds made me sleepy.  Groggy.  Fuzzy.  Foggy.  I felt like I wasn’t truly living life, but only slogging through.

This went on for 2 years.  Until, one day, I made my 180 decision:  I was going to out think Anxiety and Depression.  I was a competent, intelligent, logical, common sensed woman.  I could do this!

I visited my doctor and we developed the plan to wean me from my meds.  Two weeks later, I took my final doses and said goodbye to my haze-inducing crutches.  The next day, the withdrawal began.  Extreme dizziness and vertigo were my body’s responses to being crutchless.  For two horrible weeks I dealt with it.  But it finally subsided.

“Now what?”  My brain said.  “You know Anxiety and Depression are in here, just waiting to come out and play.”

“Yes, I know.  But I’m ready.”

And I was.

I’ll turn 40 (gasp!) in a mere 4 months.  I’ve been medication free for almost 10 years now.  In the past 10 years, I’ve faced a lot of changes:  Job changes, moving, the death of one of my parents, divorce, remarriage.   Yes, Anxiety and Depression are still around.  However, my big 180 moment came when I realized it’s not a situation that causes my emotions.  It’s MY REACTION to said situation.  If I control the reaction, I control the emotion.

Yes, depression and anxiety rear their ugly heads at any opportunity.  But, because I’ve been dealing with these two particular issues for almost 30 years, I recognize my personal syptoms and triggers.  Yes, my brain still tries to give me irrational fears and cause anxiety.  But I have the ultimate tool:  Logic.  Just like all those years ago on that highway I realized that no other car would hit us at that moment because, logically, there were no other cars on the highway to do so, I now have mastered the ability to logically outthink my anxiety.  I recognize that my brain sometimes tells me weird stuff.  But I also have cultivated the ability to recognize that most of the time it simply doesn’t make sense, logically.

Depression is another story.  It strikes like a snake in the grass – quickly and without warning.  But, again, 30 years is a long time to ponder about something.  I’ve learned to force myself to MOVE FORWARD.  Every single day.  Each morning, the sun comes up, whether I’m happy or sad, mad or euphoric, worried or blissful.  Each morning, God gives us the opportunity to experience His wonder.  The world is a beautiful place. Sometimes we just forget to look around.

I practice thankfulness each night.  I started this practice when I was in college and was fighting a deep, dark depression that had been around for years.  Each night when I go to bed, I think back on my day and find ONE thing that made me smile, or lifted my spirits.  Somedays are better than others. During those first few days, I would cling to small things such as a pretty flower I’d seen, or the fact that I’d seen a child’s smile.

Nowadays I count my blessings.  I have a truly wonderful, supportive husband who loves me unconditionally and without boundaries.  I have two intelligent, beautiful, athletic, charming kids who, even though as almost-teens drive me insane somedays, are the light of my life.  I have a simple life by choice.  I live in the country where it’s quiet. On clear nights, I simply marvel at the stars.  In the Spring, the frogs sing their cacophonous chorus.  I work in our garden and enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. I take pictures of pretty flowers I see, to remind me of times when a pretty flower was the only light among my dark days.

Yes, I’m a busy mom and wife:  Working, house, laundry, kids’ sports and events, blah blah blah.  Yes, I still have visits from Anxiety and Depression.  Only now, I’ve figured out the ultimate weapons against them:  FAITH and HOPE.

I have full faith that God has a plan for me.  He will put me where He needs me, even if it means moving a mountain (or in my life, a divorce, a new husband, moving, new schools and a new job) to do so.  I have hope because I’ve learned in my almost 40 years that the sun always comes up tomorrow, providing us with new opportunities to enjoy God’s plan for us.

We just have to keep looking for those little things that make us smile and hold on.