Mood: hopeful
I took today off. I called and said exactly what's wrong with me: I'm not me today. I haven't been in over a week. And I hate it. I hate feeling as if I'm stuck in some kind of fog. Like I'm living a version of my own life...but not as myself.
I'm a pretty happy person. Dramatic? Definitely. Sad? At times. I struggle with depression and anxiety, but it's been quite some time since I've just thrown my hands up and admitted surrender to the depression. I used to be angry all the time. Harboring resentment and nasty feelings. It made me feel nasty and angry at myself.
So I started my old blog, the one where I wrote about doing at least ONE nice thing a day for myself. I've continued to do those nice things...until lately. Lately...my husband has been the one picking up the slack in the being nice to Ashley department. I've been busy being furiously angry and heart breakingly sad.
I woke up this morning crying. Pressed into Jeff's arms I struggled to breathe normally, to stop crying, and to get out of the bed. I showered. My chest felt as though a house was on top of it. And I couldn't go any further than that shower. I called my boss. I sent texts to coworkers. I drove Jeff to work and did grocery shopping. And then I stopped.
I have written in my journal. I've done laundry. I attempted a nap. I've listened to some music. Defragged my computer. Screwed around on Pinterest. And that's what I needed to do today. I needed a day where the only pressure or schedule I had involved making sure I got Jeff to and from work...and that we get to eat tonight. I really went above and beyond with all that laundry *note sarcasm*
And here's the nicest thing I've done all day. I've set my mind to stopping the sad. The issues causing the feelings won't disappear. But I refuse to let myself mope around for one more day. Jeff and I are newlyweds...that's trickier than we thought...but still amazing. There are constant stresses that are so seemingly insignificant but laundry piles up...groceries disappear. Between the everyday chaos, working with 2 year olds, and trying to find balance in an already completely new lifestyle (wife, stepmother, living in a totally new place...) I just wasn't ready to handle the really huge family stresses that came my way. I'm not sure how I would handle things differently should this happen again...but I do know that attempting to take it all on and feel like I had to do it myself (even when Jeff was offering all the help in the world) was dumb. And once I let him help me...well...I was too far gone to function.
So, after today, I'm done not being Ashley. For a while anyway. Will I still be sad? Of course. But tomorrow morning when I wake up...I won't be crying. I'll get out of bed and shower and laugh. I'll drive to work and have amazing conversations with Jeff instead of him having to ask if I'm okay...and figuring out how to handle the inevitable "no" that follows.
I know I won't succeed every single step of the way. And I know I'll slip back into sad. But tomorrow I'm going to work with a renewed love of teaching the kids. I'm going back smiling instead of trying to hide. I'm going back as the Ms. Ashley that the kids know and love. And I'm coming home to dinner with my husband to watch a Bulls game and not constantly worry about everything. I'm going to live the best...and happiest...that I can from second to second.
*pardon the crazy eyes....I got my eye make-up done for a date night look with pink last night at Sephora and wanted to make sure I could see how to redo it...but since I'm smiling and I love pink....that's the me I will be again tomorrow! Find something to smile about yourself!
Mood: "I'm still alive, but I'm barely breathing..."
Today we had mandatory training sessions at work from 8-4. Last night I called saying that I was just far too overwhelmed and stressed out and I just needed a day where I could relax. Where the only thing I had to worry about was baking a cake for Malcolm's 3rd birthday and spending time with the boys.
That was the day I dreamed about. That was not, however, the way my day went. I've been stressed with family issues for a week now, some with good reason, some just general dynamic stuff. An old friend became an ex-friend after saying that she couldn't be bothered to care about what was going on with my family. I was brokenhearted and reacted horribly.
For the rest of the week (and this happened on Tuesday) I couldn't concentrate at work. I really needed a day to just tend to my feelings, to be present and just live instead of worrying. Since Tuesday night, I have felt constantly ill and I've been starting fights with Jeff. It's hard when you have a limited support system at your physical side. And as I came to learn today it's hard when your long distance support system wants to...well...not be supportive.
I always censor my status updates, my blogs, my words in vocal conversations. The only place I am truly uncensored is in my written journal.
It's just this is weighing so heavily on my mind that I need it written. I need it out. And the journal just didn't do it for me.
I'm horrible with words...unless I am writing. With written words I can express what only my tears or silence can during a physical conversation.
While I want to get this all out of me and this is MY blog...I also don't want to use it maliciously. I want it to be therapeutic, fun, hopeful...
Only today, I lost hope. Truly. I cannot understand how some people can be so incredibly and intentionally mean spirited. I do know that I've recently said many things I have immediately regretted out of anger. And they've come back to haunt me already...twice. I've been writing and praying and trying to keep my head above water all week.
I'm still just barely above surface...and I feel as if I could drown at any second. It would be all too easy to just sort of...let go.
But I don't want to. I have a life I've worked hard to build. A relationship that makes me happy even when it sucks and gets hard. A (step)son that I got to bake an angry birds cake for today. A job that even on it's most stressful days I genuinely love. And a new set of friends that I'm seriously grateful for.
With all of that I'm still at a complete loss as to what my next step is. And I do mean my very next step. One second I'm ready to get in my car and just disappear. The next I'm convinced going to bed is the only thing that will help ameliorate my feelings. And then the next? I'm so battered that I'm shaking and weeping, and the only thing I can imagine is...well...nothing. Because my faith in myself has been so irreparably shattered today that I have no idea what to do. And no idea what I want to do.
I know that as of today my life has changed...I'm just not exactly sure how yet. I know that sleep will help...but I also know that the chest pain and panic will creep in around 4am and I'll be frozen with this horrible feeling of despair.
Sometimes the only thing we can do is literally take the next step. One foot in front of the other. One breath in and out. And trust that we know what we're doing.
Mood: nostalgic
No matter how old I am, how mature I feel, or how far I manage to get, I will always remember exactly how I felt at certain ages of my life.
The days where black leotards and pink ballet slippers meant everything that is pretty and perfect in the world. The Barbie that you just HAD to have. The hairstyle that ever single girl in my class was wearing flawlessly, except for me. The jeans I couldn't quite fit into. The acne that somehow dotted my face more pervasively than my peers. The lack of attention from males. The desire to be kissed. The longing for a boyfriend. The having the first boyfriend. The primping before prom.
Sometimes, I wonder if I've managed to grow up at all. I may look more grown up than I did at 18, and I certainly am more mature in some aspects...but I can't help but wonder how far I've actually come.
The more I think about babies...the more reading I do...the more I find myself wondering whether or not I'm really grown up enough to have one of my own. Chronologically speaking I'm definitely ready. I've graduated from high school, college, worked on my master's...I have a job and I'm married happily. I have a (step)son that I couldn't love more...and I'm genuinely ready to hold my own infant in my arm's...but...
I still feel like that lost little girl. Not the one in a tutu and tight bun...she had no fears and life was nothing more than sequins and flowers given for twirling...but the one who never knew that it mattered how you wore your hair. The one who had never been kissed. The one who still has never had a Valentine.
I struggle with questioning how I can raise a child if I'm still working on raising myself?
I suppose that I should emphasize that I am NOT pregnant. Nor has there been a concerted effort to even conceive yet...it's just...the thought and the will...and the desire in me is enough to scare me. And I think that it's a good thing to be scared...to an extent. Having, and subsequently caring for, another human being is the greatest commitment, honor, privilege, challenge, and responsibility that I can imagine and...am I REALLY ready?
I've been married for just under 4 months. And I couldn't be happier. But if 10 months ago you'd ask me if I was prepared for marriage I would have answered no.
I never ceased to be amazed at how life ensures that you're ready for things...even if you still have questions. And doubts. And fears. I assume that one is never 100% ready for anything that happens...from taking the morning shower (who doesn't want 5 more minutes of sleep) to buying a house (can we say long term?)...but where there's a will, there's a way.
I'll never lose the 16 year old awkward version of me...and that's a good thing probably. She keeps me humble. And the tiny ballerina with her painted red lipstick and sugarplum dreams reminds me that life is beautiful, and that there are nothing but possibilities if you just know how to look...
What really matters, though, is who I am today. Who I will be tomorrow. And who I know I can be.
Who I want to be.
I'll get there. In the meantime I'll continue to question, to ponder, to fear, to hope, and to dream. And honestly? I think that's exactly how it should be.
Mood: meh
I've been avoiding blogging. I've been avoiding a lot of things lately to be honest. Taking care of myself is high up there on that list. I've stopped doing Pilates, started drinking more soda and less water, stopped eating, stopped writing and coloring...the only thing I've managed to continue is reading and maintaining some forms of communication with the husband. I know all of this is leading to me being tired and cranky and sad and depressed...but it's one of those periods during which I just don't care.
And I know I should. It's not just me that needs me anymore. There's the husband. The stepson. The dog. My family back in PA. It seems this year that Seasonal Affect Disorder means business with me. And it's taking all I have to fight it...some days the only thing I feel like I've accomplished is getting out of bed.
Since it's December 11, this funk is particularly frustrating. I loooooooooooooooove Christmas. Actually I love the entire winter season. I know...it's cold and snowy and dark...but I love it. I don't necessarily love being cold and now that I drive I dislike snow on any weekday...but the season always makes me feel...warm and happy.
I can't remember exactly how old I was...but I remember the first time I went skiing. It was with a church group and I never left the bunny hill and I had to pee so badly that I wet myself (nervous bladder)...but I fell in love with it. My dad encouraged my love of skiing and when I was in 3rd grade I started taking official lessons at Blue Mountain. I became a Mountaineer, then a member of the Blue Mountain Ski Team, PARA (Pennsylvania Racing Association), and the U.S. Ski Team (uhhhh like division Z but I still count it). The older I got the more time we spent at the Mountain. There were preseason training sessions, the obligatory Saturday and Sunday 8-12 lessons and practices, the travel races, the midweek training sessions....but my favorite thing? Skiing during free time with my daddy.
I'll admit I wasn't the world's best skier, and I certainly wasn't ranked high in the girls division...but I wasn't bad either. I left skiing in order to attend confirmation class...which required Sunday morning attendance.
Last night I was thinking about that decision. And the season. And my funk. And the fact that the last time I was at any type of religious ceremony it was my wedding. Almost 3 months ago.
This Christmas is Jeff and I's first together. And I'm thrilled to be spending it with him. It's also his first Christmas without Malcolm (who will be spending it with his mother) and my first Christmas without any member of my blood family near me. While it's exciting to have a new family to celebrate with...I miss all the familiarity of the Christmas season with my family. The crazy marathon shopping days with Caitlyn and Mom. Watching college basketball with Daddy. Heading out to "Lights in the Parkway" in Allentown. Buying Christmas presents for the puppies. Starting the annual hunt for stockings with Mommy that ends with us buying replacements. The candles that are constantly burning with Christmas cookie smells...the Christmas baking...the crazy amount of church services...
I know that it's time to form my own traditions with Jeff...but it's hard to get excited about the holidays when it doesn't feel like the holidays. There's no skiing, there's no going to cut down the Christmas tree, and there's no marathon shopping with the girls. This winter just feels cold. And stressful.
Jeff and I watched "Christmas Vacation" last night and I watched "Elf" this morning...part of my annual holiday season celebration. I'll continue that by watching them again while wrapping presents. I'll buy stockings for Jeff and I and find some fruit to shove at the bottom (which my mother and father do every SINGLE year even though some years it's rotted at the bottom of the stocking....). I'll force Jeff to take a picture with me sitting on the stairs to the basement (another tradition from my family) and I'll get around to baking cookies with Jeff and Malcolm. But most importantly, I'll try to remind myself that Christmas isn't just a season...it's a feeling. It's a celebration. And it's spiritual. I can't actively participate in any of this if I'm just going through the motions of everyday. I need to get excited again.
I need to eat. I need to drink water again. I need to resume exercising and writing. I need to find a spiritual happy place.
And I'll do it. I pray in time for Christmas.
Mood: ....now it's time to sing along.......everybody hurtssssssss
Spoiler: the title is emo...the post is not.
It's been one of those days. Well, to be honest...it's been one of those days for a little over a week now. You know those days. The ones where nothing goes wrong, nothing catastrophic happens, nothing really noteworthy at all occurs...in fact some good things happen, and there are some happy moments...but you still just feel...meh? Yeah, those days.
I find these days incredibly frustrating. Having lived with depression for nearly 17 years I have a pretty good handle on what's going on with my body. I can feel myself starting to slip into a funk...and I get so annoyed when I know that's what's happening...but there's absolutely no reason behind it. At all.
Let's start with last weekend...when the nagging feeling of not being okay set in. The husband was on call, so we started Saturday by heading in to his office. He stayed pretty busy all day but we managed to do some grocery shopping (which for some reason I find delightful) and had a pretty good day. Sunday...slow day at work so we baked together. Jeff really wanted to try the rum cake from the Caribbean (daddy yours will be on the way soon!) but because of the dairy allergy was unable to. He researched recipes until he found one without any dairy and we decided to test it. Can I just tell you how amazing it tasted and how much fun it was to bake as a couple?
Sunday ended with the season premiere of The Walking Dead and we followed that by our new obsession, Homeland. It was an amazing end to the weekend.
Monday I got a job. Major yay! since I was starting to seriously freak out about not having one...and interviews weren't even being offered anymore. Wednesday the husband and I headed to the old apartment and emptied it. Well...he emptied it and I cleaned/packed. It feels awesome to have that done and not over my head anymore. I'm so happy to have all my things (okay most of my things) in one place.
Thursday I started the job. Last night we got the boy.
I woke up this morning to a discussion between Jeff and Malcolm about autobots and something unknown and undecipherable...all I know is that I woke up feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. To have two boys in bed with me that I love...it's a feeling I honestly have no words for. From there the day went a bit askew....but picked up again.
Malcolm and Mom and Daddy played. We all shot each other. We ran around outside. We watched Optimus Prime defeat evil once again...
So...
Why am I still upset? Why do I have this constant feeling of being unsettled and unhappy and...anxious?
I have a few ideas. And some concrete things that are upsetting...but nothing that would warrant depression. My life is pretty damn good right now. I couldn't be happier with married life. I have the BEST time baking and watching tv with Jeff. Work is chaotic...but I love working with kids and I'm honestly just grateful to be employed once again. Jeff and I get to spend this weekend and next weekend with the boy. I'm eating healthier. I'm staying active. I'm honestly insanely blessed and happy.
I know this. I acknowledge this. And I still feel...like crap.
The REALLY crappy thing about feeling so unsettled and generally sad for no reason...is that you know you're sad for NO REASON. Which makes you feel worse for feeling bad when you know you shouldn't feel bad...
It's a nasty little cycle.
I'm taking my meds. I'm writing. I colored today. I'm talking to Jeff.
But the depression is settling...at least for now.
So here's what I promise to myself: I'll continue to deal with the sadness and the uneasiness the only way I know how...to move forward one foot at a time and to keep looking for the good things...no matter how small or how simple (like wearing a purple scarf to stand united against bullying, ignorance, and intolerance)...
Mood: in love...
Warning: the following post will be sappy.
Husband -
Today is our one month anniversary, annnnnnnd because we're super awesome...it happens to be the seven month anniversary of our first date.
Happy anniversary!
I could tell you how I knew on our second date that I wanted to marry you. Watching Paul with you, laughing, holding your hand...it all felt so natural. I could tell you that meeting your son for the first time was one of the most humbling moments of my entire life. I could tell you how I fell in love with your smile the second I saw it. I could tell you that you are always a gentleman and I love that you always open doors for me. I could tell you that I love how you always reach for my hand. How you hold me when we sleep. I could tell you how I will never get tired of the look you get in your eyes when you look at me (even if I'm singing!) and I'll always love the way we can hold 5 conversations at once.
But you already know these things.
In reality there is very little that I can write here that you don't know. I suppose that's a byproduct of having 5 conversations at once: a lot gets said!
What I'll write here instead is that this past month has been without a doubt some of the most fun I've ever had in my entire life. Our wedding could not have been more perfect (even with it getting moved indoors and all). Seeing our families together and knowing we had the support there was such a humbling and truly amazing feeling. Taking my first adult vacation with a significant other as our honeymoon was fantastic. Being on water with you for 5 days just relaxing, sitting on our deck talking, walking around the islands...I couldn't have asked for a more perfect honeymoon (thanks mom and dad CB!!!).
I'll write how I still get excited when I know you're on your way home from work. How I still get first date butterflies sometimes. I'll tell you how sometimes I lie awake in bed listening to you breath deeply and wonder how I got this insanely lucky. How I love every single thing about you, how I know some of your past, and I trust in all of our future.
On the one month anniversary of the day we said "I do," I want you to know that I cannot wait to see what next month brings, and the month after that, and the year after that...
I look forward to waking up next to you each morning and I can't wait till we're cuddled up in front of the tv watching our shows before bed.
You are by no means a perfect man, but you couldn't be more perfect for me.
I don't know what our future holds...but I promise you that it will be full of laughs, awesome tv shows, maybe zombies, and definitely happiness.
I love you so much husband!
Thank you for loving me.
Happy one month!
Wifey
