Darn Daylight Savings Time, I'm wide awake and my alarm is set for 7 hours from now. I'm not really sure where this will end up, but I just need to get some stuff out of my head.
I've been so busy lately, and I don't even know what I've done with all of my time. I still want to recap February's Daniel Fast and post about some of our favorite recipes, but that's going to have to wait.
I've been watching a LOT of TV lately. My husband and I are trying to get through all 10 seasons of Friends, and we're so close to the end that we just have the TV on for hours. My kids watch way too much TV too. They wake up to Bob the Builder every morning (on Netflix), and anytime I'm nursing the baby, it's usually playing. We watch a family movie every Wednesday (in lieu of our Date Night), and when my husband's not home or has gone to bed (I'm up because I take naps nearly every afternoon), I have been binging on New Girl. And crafting tutorials on YouTube. We don't even watch "TV," just Netflix and movies. I don't know what we'll go to once these shows are over.
I used to listen to music nearly 24 hours a day. I would fall asleep to it, have it on my phone or computer while I studied, wrote, graded papers, cooked, wrote lesson plans, drove in the car, and worked out. I almost never have music on anymore. I don't turn on Pandora first thing when I wake up. I don't even have my huge library of music accessible on my iPad (darn Apple and their glitchy syncopation), and I'm rarely on the computer, where my music is stored. I just don't get joy from it like I used to.
I can't remember the last time I just sat in the quiet and thought. I've realized that I don't like silence. That's why the TV is so often on. When it's quiet is when I miss my Dad the most. I rerun the last days of his life in my head so often, I don't know how I'll ever forget them. The last time I saw him in the hospital, the last time I talked with him on the phone, the way he looked the day he died. That's not the way I want to remember him, but it's been etched in stone in my mind.
Helping my mom go through their home room by room doesn't help. My dad was a bit of a hoarder, a trait he inherited from his mother, and one that I'm afraid will fall on me more severely in the next several years. Finding things that he spent his hard-earned money on that will never be used, that just take up space in their home and will most likely end up being donated does not conjure up fond memories of him. I feel frustrated and overwhelmed, and even more so for my mom.
I don't like to think right now. I've put off nearly every conversation or contact that I possibly could in the last 3 months (has it only been that long since we lost him?), and even putting my thoughts down in writing is difficult for me. I guess I have a lot to say, but I don't have the patience to make it coherent. I avoid checking my phone, and the only people I make an effort to talk to regularly are my husband, my mom, and my grandparents, who we visit weekly. Everyone else is too much of an effort.
I don't care to see people either. I am ashamed of my appearance. I lost 10 pounds during our fast in February, and my goal is still to weigh under 200 by Sam's 2nd birthday, but I'm still 100 pounds away. I don't have any clothes that fit well, I rarely find time to shower, and I haven't done anything with my hair except pull it back in a bun for the last 3 years. I can't remember the last time I wore makeup, and even though we had a nice date last week, I still felt like an oversized blob in my elastic-waist skirt and loose blouse.
I thought I was doing better. I went to see my PCP at the end of January, to discuss my depression, and he stated that as long as I am breastfeeding (which I very much want to do until Sam turns at least one, hopefully two), he did not recommend any medication. He said I could eat better, exercise more, and meditate, and possibly try ginkgo biloba. I need to do all of those things anyway (except the ginkgo biloba), so I said thanks and left. I talked with a friend and she mentioned a post-partum depression medication she had taken after her first child, but she said it took about a month to kick in. I called my OB and asked him about it and he said the same thing. I thought that I would be better off working through it on my own.
I hate the idea of being on a pill to feel "normal." I already take more medication than I ever wanted to daily for my arthritis, plus vitamins for breastfeeding, allergy medicine, and an oral contraceptive. I have to take my arthritis medicine to walk without hurting, I didn't want to have to take a pill to not be "angry momma" all the time too.
I haven't really been eating better. I've pretty much reverted back to my old eating habits, plus several trips to restaurants already this month. I don't know what I weigh, as I plan to only weigh in on Mondays again. I've definitely not gotten more exercise. I think we went for a walk in our neighborhood 2 or 3 weeks ago and that was the last exercise I got. I have been praying more, trying to pray daily for peace, joy, patience, kindness (and the other 5 Fruit of the Spirit), but I haven't been consistent with that.
What has changed has been my spending habits. We have been generously given some money from family recently and that has eaten away at much of my time and mental energy. I bought tons of crafting supplies (if only I had time to use them all!), toys for my kids, and some large purchases for our house. Unfortunately, none of this has made me feel any better. I spent $150 on new toys for the children today (after meticulously shopping all the retailers I could find), and after I clicked "submit," I didn't feel any better.
I've not been able to cross many things off my to-do list either. I have been incredibly unproductive (spending most of my time researching the best prices on the fore-mentioned purchases and watching shows), and will do anything to not have to put my thoughts down on paper. I would like to write my children once a week. Sam turned 6 months last week and I wanted to write him a letter of his own. I want to write on all 3 of my blogs regularly. I have emails I haven't responded to in MONTHS, family I really need to talk to. I want to read and journal in my Bible. I even want to write my dad, to get the things I never got to tell him out. It is so hard to find time to get started, let alone make it worth reading.
I guess all this is to say, even though I may try to put my best foot forward, there is still a mess behind this keyboard. I don't know how long it will take to get better. I don't know for certain that it will. I just keep praying God will cure me and help me find my joy again. I miss being me. This other, sadder, angrier, meaner, fatter, lazier, nastier version is not the person I dreamed I would be. I have the best of intentions, but then I wake up, and something goes wrong, or I don't get enough sleep, or one of the boys cries for a silly reason, or...it doesn't matter. I am still a work-in-progress.
The one thing I can control is what I do. I can do the basics. Get up, pray, eat well, take care of my personal hygiene, love my children, love my spouse, go to bed on time. If I get anything else done, it's a blessing. So that's what I'll do. Starting first thing tomorrow. Baby steps. Now, I am getting sleepy. Wish me luck. God bless and good night.