Eve of the First Day of School

So, it’s the night before school starts back up in the fall. It’s the eve of the first day of school… and I’m not sure what your house is like tonight, but ours has been filled with barking (the kind not coming from the puppies) and bickering and short, snotty, attitude filled people. All of us. We’re one of those households that deals with stress, and change, and transition with unprocessed reactionary anger, bitterness, and maybe even a little hostility.

I don’t think I’m actually supposed to admit that, you know, the whole barking and bickering thing. I think I’m only supposed to wait until tomorrow morning and put together a perfect little collage of the perfect little photos I took to portray that perfect first day of school out there on social media.

And I’m not sure I’m not going to do that… because knowing me, that’s exactly what I’ll do.

But I can’t help but sit here tonight and think about that ten year old finally sleeping in the room next door. I know he’s a little exited, but I know he’s a whole lot of nervous as well. His nervous comes out in anger and grumpiness. I know I’m a little bit excited, but also filled with a whole lot of dread. Waking up, getting dressed, breakfast and meds, shoes and teeth brushing, getting to school and work on time, spelling words, homework, reading counts… oh deal Lord almighty I just can’t even… My nervous and dread comes out in snappy, and snippy, and heavy loud sighs and curt biting retorts. I’m not sure what the hubs over there on the couch is thinking while he flips tv channels simultaneously while scrolling hour after hour on his phone. He’s probably thinking absolutely nothing at all, which I will never, in all my life, even begin to understand… but his “absolutely nothing” comes out in sassy attitudes and moody ignoring. And like there’s any ignoring all that stomping and cupboard slamming and pot and pan banging from me in the kitchen in my attempt to silently scream “gosh I sure am busy over here and it would be nice to be sitting on the couch all night doing nothing! Yes you over there, you could look up and see me and get up and help me!!” (Ummmmm, I don’t think I’m supposed to admit this out loud either am I!?!)

Well, anyway, it’s nearly midnight and I am still awake, still doing laundry and dishes and cupcakes and cleaning and the forty-seven other things still not crossed off my to-do list. I am typically long asleep before 9:30 p.m. and my alarm will be startling me awake in just a few short hours to start it all over again tomorrow.

Tomorrow my hours at work change. Tomorrow two peoples daily routines will be changing (one will not be). Tomorrow we will have an official 5th grader. Tomorrow another year of school begins, another adventure, another battle of one degree or another with one person or another, day after day after day. And you know what, I have yet to unpack and do anything with last years locker and desk vomit that came home on the last day of school. Yup, it’s all still sitting in a large heap in the ten year old’s room next door. Backpack, papers, broken crayons, pencil nubbins, blown out snow pants, folders, 3/4 full notebooks, dry makers… yup it’s all still right where it was placed when it was brought home. Mom fail number five-thousand eight-hundred and ninety-two. Lord have mercy on me.

I know I’m supposed to enjoy these moments, that they will be gone in a heartbeat. And I know this, it is a factual truth. I have a twenty-one year old who graduated from high school what, three years ago now?!? I know time if flying by, I know these are the greatest moments of my life, I know these are the days to cherish and remember and embrace, please please please don’t leave a string of comments eluding to this truth. I get it, I know it… but it’s just that well… some days that reality is just really hard to hold hands with.

Some days I’m ok with standing near, some days I can barely muster the energy to be in the same room, and some days I just despirately want to jump ship and just run as fast and as far away from all of this that I can.

I know I’m not in this alone, and I know there are lots and lots of others dragging themselves along and surviving day by day from one season to the next. And it’s not an overall horrible life, I’m not saying that at all… there’s lots of laughter and memories mixed right on in, but for me it’s often just a hard road and a heavy load.

So I sit tonight thinking of all the things I didn’t do, haven’t done, need to do, should do, could have done, shouldn’t have done and take that emotional rollercoaster on a wild ride of summer memories and winter dread. I think of how old that little man already is, and what grade he’s already in, and how big he already is, and how smart and fast and sharp he already is, and I also can’t help but be simply amazed, and grateful, and humbled to be such a significant part in his life.

It’s really hard to put words to the feelings and reality of it all. This crazy mix of highs and lows, goods and bads, miracles and minefields, easy and unbelievably hards, regrets and delights.

There’s not a handbook on all this. No Adulting for Dummies manual to skim. No Q&A info sessions with targeted breakout discussions No instruction guide with tiny print in three separate languages. It’s just a dive in and figure it out as you go, a fake it till you make it incessantly repeated mantra often grinding us nearly to the point of explosion.

I love my family more than I can use words to express, and despite all our grumbling and grumping, we will join forces and step forward together to take on the day, the season, the year, the lifetime standing before us - just waiting for our arrival and our entrance into its reality and journey.

Whether we are ready or not, tomorrow we shall dive in to another day, another year, another milestone. Tomorrow we will look to the future and it will be filled with hope and promise. Tomorrow we will embark on another grand adventure together. Tomorrow we will divide and conquer together. Perhaps we will individually each be Chatty Kathy’s, perhaps Debbie Downers, perhaps Sassy Sally’s… and perhaps a triple dose of all three will be there to greet the day, one just really never knows until the time is upon us, ticking slowly in the palm of our hands, relentless, restless but ultimately remarkable and rewarding.

{ Previous Blog Post "Not Today August... Not Today" HERE }

Not Today August... Not Today

I sit here staring a blank screen, a page filled with white as the words lie silently within me. It’s not that there is silence inside, because Lord knows it is anything but silent inside the wild mind of mine these days… but the ability to process and grasp and manage it all however is a different story.

It is August 18 and the days of this month continue to slip by. The days of this entire summer have somehow continued to just slip on by at a speed that could rival that of freight train. I’m caught in the whirlwind of emotions and activities, expectations and realities, duties and obligations.

And yet I know something is off, something isn’t right, something is keeping me from slipping through the days and nights right now with ease and laughter. The joy is tainted, the passion is poisoned, the anger is aggravated, the chaos is just covered with a blanket of irritation and agitation. I am snippy and snappy and short with those closest to me. I am exceedingly hard on myself and listening more and more to the lies of unworthiness, weakness, and discontentment. And while I try to get out there and live it up, I desperately just want to be alone.

“I’m fine…” is the blanket answer for all the questions. Only this year I seem to realize not many are asking, not many are seeming to notice, or care, or really look deep within the window of my eyes to check on the state of my soul. But, I also know that I am the one who has pushed them all away, as I avoid most social interaction at all cost right now. Peopling is just really hard for me right now.

I just want to crawl in bed and sleep. I go to bed early, exhausted. I wake up dreading to start the day, not wanting to get up, not wanting to work out, not wanting to put in the time and work I seem to need to validate my own worth. There are tears, there is an inner dialogue of negative self talk, there is a constant overwhelm of all things. When I think I just can’t take on one more thing… that "one more thing" appears. And that "one more thing" requires attention and time and thought and processing and prayer. That "one more thing" is the possible monkey wrench in my life yet once again… and I am honestly not sure I am ready to muster what it takes to continue forward, plowing onward.

And yet, we are all left with no other options, we are all left with no other choice. It’s day by day, hour by hour, step by step and forward we must go no matter how we feel or no matter how many backward steps it feels like we’re taking. We feel like we’re all alone, like we’re the only ones going through this, the only ones that could possibly be feeling all that we are feeling while feebly attempting to numb and feel nothing at all… and yet I know there an entire world of others suffering and hurting and stumbling along all around me at this very moment. We are convinced we are alone, we are the only ones, so we remain silent.

But we aren’t the only ones, we just can’t be. We aren’t alone, but perhaps we are just too afraid to share, too afraid to admit, too afraid to take on the demons of depression and risk it all because we just don’t know how to. We don’t know where to start, we don’t know what to do, and frankly we don’t have the strength and energy we know it all requires.

I’m struggling through this… and I’m struggling though that… and in all my attempted awareness and self analysis, I am finding it’s just a constant barrage of things coming at me. Some days it doesn’t phase me, some days it leaves me broken and bleeding. Some days I’m up and tearing through the day with vigor and vitality. Some days I can’t get myself out of bed and I’m in a fog, moving in slow motion.

It’s a roller coaster right now, and it’s exhausting. My sleep is filled with dreams, my awake is filled with a battle of trying to stay positive, to find my happy, to overcome my negativity, to override the whisper to just go back to bed and not care.

So I think subconsciously I am just trying to hide, from everyone and from myself. It seems to just be easier that way, in theory anyway. But I think about the last two years, and all that I have processed and worked on and battled through… and I know it’s August, and I know this is a trigger time, and I know I am not alone. So I must continue to dig deep and continue forward.  But there is this small voice inside me whispering to me how utterly ridiculous this is to still be dealing and reeling from all this all these years later.  It's at war with the other side of me patting me on the back assuring me this is all just fine... I am really just fine... and to take as long as I need.

I must fight the good fight every single morning, every single hour, every single day right now. I know in order to get past this all yet again that I must allow myself to feel and to process and to hurt and to admit to myself, and those around me, that I still hurt, I still grieve, I still carry some angry and hurt and resentment, even through deep down I do know it’s all just a part of the grand journey of my life, and ultimately it’s all meant for good. I know it, I’ve processed and worked through it before… it’s just some days and months and seasons it’s just harder to remember and harder to hold tight to reality and promise when my heart aches with a heaviness and emptiness I can’t even begin got find the words for to describe.

Oh August… every year you come and every year you seem to blanket me with your burdens and your heaviness. And every year, I open the door let you in. I hear you start knocking already in the middle of July, and I try so hard to barricade the door so not even a sliver of your light seeps in… but somehow every year you wield your way in, you seep through the tiny cracks in my soul and slowly settle in. Oh I don’t want you here right now, you are not welcome, and yet I can’t seem to get you to leave. No amount of begging and pleading and yelling and crying seems to convince you you are not wanted. I am never quite able to find the strength to give you the boot, so you continue to stay, you continue to pester and poke and drag me down.

School starts next week, and we will be back to epic morning battles, and spelling words, and reading counts, and homework, and teacher meetings. I can’t even… I just can’t. That fateful August due date is looming closer and closer, reminding me of all that was taken, all that didn’t get to be, all that was unfair and unjustified. I can’t even… I just can’t. The number of weekends left at the camper is down to single digits and we will soon have to be planning to close it up for the winter. I can’t even… I just can’t. I try continue on this attempted health journey day after day, and I feel like I’m losing the battle right now, that I’m going backwards instead of forwards in my fight of weight and nutrition and mild over miles. I have two half marathon races on my calendar over the next seven weeks. I can’t even… I just can’t.

Once upon a time I think I had the wherewithal to tackle this all with guns a blazing, but now it all just seems to render me helpless and immobile, it's chipped and eaten away at me just too many times.  The lies inside me tell me I can’t handle it all, that I don’t want to handle it all, so I’m just not going to handle any of it.

I remain silent in my lostness. I remain alone in my hurt, broken and weary state. I wake up and begin the motions of surviving another day willing myself to get through the hours needed before I can climb back in bed.

This too shall pass. I look back and it seems that it always does. August 27 shall too pass by once again, and then we will flip the calendar to September. The new routines of fall will begin to form and hopefully take hold, the leaves will start to change color, the air will get cooler, the days will continue to get shorter and shorter. The sunsets at the lake will end, the running outside will end and hopefully I will find the willpower to transition for another season back in the basement on the treadmill.

I guess I’m not totally sure what this fall is going to bring, there are chances and possibilities that my boat is going to get rocked right out of the water yet again, but I will not allow myself to think about that until I may actually need to. Because it may also be nothing, and I refuse to allow unnecessary worry to steal any more moments of my life.

So… I’m going to end this sad “feeling sorry for myself” yammering and try find the strength to turn on the lights and get myself out of bed on this sunny Saturday at the lake. I’m going to dig deep and face this day. I’m going to leave the camper and go interact, and mingle, and maybe even do a little peopling today. I can do this. I can do this.

August, you are not welcome, but I know you are here regardless of what I want. I know you’re going to continue to reside in the recesses of my heart, and mind, and soul causing me the anguish and pain I so desperately do not want to deal with right now (or ever). So I am going to call you out, I am going to holler my displeasure of your presence out loud, I am going to publicly admit and own up to my current hurt and struggle right now. I am going to give it the name that it is… this is a touch of depression, even though time and again I have fought against admitting this is actually what it is. But it is. I don’t want pity, I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me and send me all sorts of medical and psychological advice on meds and therapists. But I am simply going to give it voice and say it out loud in hopes to to weaken your control and squelch your resolve over me. May my admittance deaden the pungency you have currently spread through me.

Not today August. Not today. 
{ Previous Blog Post "Natures Day of Rest" HERE }

Nature's Day of Rest

It’s four a.m. on a Saturday. I sit here in the dark, sipping coffee, puppies snuggled and snoozing beside me, watching the electric flames from our camper fireplace quietly roll and lick the early darkness. There’s a steady sound of rain pattering the sides of the camper and deck, there is a pool of water forming in the grass at the front of our camper.

I have no plan b work out options right now at the camper. There’s no treadmill or elliptical or even wi-fi access to do a video. With no option to head downstairs to try tackle one of those beasts… I sit, in the silence, and rest. At least for the moment. (If the sun were to come out later today… game on baby.)

I’ve talked about this before, but rest is hard for me, both in a physical sense, and in a mental sense. I am one who tends to be very hard on my body physically - asking it, pushing it to always do more and go farther, punishing it for all that it has denied me and taken from me.  Never perfect, never enough, never happy. I am also one who tends to not be able to turn off my mind, my inner dialog, my brain always on, always firing and over-processing.

For me, my one “rest day” a week that I give myself means I do a six mile power walk instead of a six mile run, so it’s actually more of a mental “rest day” than anything else. I don’t have to battle that ridiculous mind over miles game step after step mile after mile… I just have to merely put in the miles. On walk days I allow myself to stop to take photos of the sunrise or scenery if I want to, a gift I rarely grant myself on run days.

It’s very rare right now that I give myself an entire day off from all physical exercise, that I allow myself to sleep in, that I grant myself a true day off. Thinking back over my exercise logs in my mind, I think I have taken two, maybe three, actual exercise rest days so far this year. Looking back, there have been entire seasons, entire years, I allowed myself rest… when I lacked the willpower, determination, grit, and tenacity that I am currently hanging on to right now. Cycles. Seasons. Valleys. Mountain tops. Weight gain. Weight loss. Residual effects of ED. Physical illness and injury. Mental warfare.

Oh the mental games of all this. Exhausting, utterly exhausting.

I am my own worst enemy and my own worst critic. I listen very carefully and very intently to the whispers of insecurity and nudges of unworthiness that satan is continually feeding me. I know it. I’m aware of it. And yet I still fall victim to it every single day. I often wonder if everyone deals with the intensity of this like I do. A small part of me wants to think, or at least honestly hope, that I am one of the few that is hyper vigilant and entirely overactive with this inner battle I’m continually warring.

My logical mind knows all the answers and understands all the nutrition and diet and exercise logic and logistics. I know there is a full balance of food in and energy out that needs to be in balance for it to actually work property. Under-eating and over-exercising actually causes your body to shut itself down and hold on so tightly to everything already in it, completely derailing all wonder woman efforts to lose weight and become healthier. The logic and understanding in me knows this, and yet every ounce of myself fights this reality every single stinking day. I can make the lists, plan the hours, days, weeks, and months perfectly planning and balancing it all out to a tee… and still fall apart at the seams as I walk through its daily reality.

I need to balance better and I need to rest more, and I am horrible at both.

So this morning as I sit the darkness, nature at war with my best laid plans for the day, I will try hold back my grumbling and disappointment and simply smile and thank God for this gift of rest, nature’s answer to both the earth’s needs and my own needs.

It looks like God is strategically multi-tasking today at His finest, and I will be humbled and grateful… May I simply accept this gift with open hands. May I rest sweetly and may I rest deeply today. I deserve it. I have earned it. And obviously Lord knows, I need it.

“Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” ~Matthew 11:28