Is this depression? This fog I find myself just coming out of? When the day to day “have-tos” seem to be all I can get through?

The last few weeks… They’ve been rough. Some from outside actions (both kids ending up with multiple week groundings). Other times because I just can’t hang. Some days all I would do were my work shifts, and make sure the kids were fed, clean, and had their homework done. WHAT I fed them may be up to nutritional interpretation. But the laundry would get backed up, the house wouldn’t be picked up, the dishes were done simply because there weren’t any clean ones left. And I would sleep any chance/excuse/time I could.

I feel like I’m just coming out though. I’m starting to feel better physically, feel better mentally. I actually want to go on a walk today. Which is outside. Where other people may be. So, yeah, I’m coming out of it.

Plus, we went to Disneyland/California Adventure (more on that in a later post) for family celebrating over the weekend, and even though there was a press of people (of course), and my kids were on excitement overload, and I didn’t get to sleep in my own bed, I didn’t lose my shit. That’s another reason I think I’m on the mend.

But, when you don’t have healthcare, and can’t afford doctor visits, much less $150/week for a potential therapist, what do you do? I can’t see a doctor, and can’t afford medication. What do I do? That’s not a rhetorical question, by the way. What do I do? The only thing I know to do is to try to keep relationships (my kids/my husband) a priority, try to keep stability/security for the kids, and let the rest go to hell while I crawl under a rock. I don’t know any other way.

You can kind of see it through the blog. I might not actually write about it, but when I write at all – it’s more and more infrequent as the bout goes on. I’ll be completely honest with you. Today, and my last entry, were only written at all because my advertiser wrote and said, “Um, Hello?” So, yeah. I love writing. Just the act of it, the clicky-clack, of the keyboard is soothing to me, so I should write MORE when I’m depressed. But all I can do is stare at the screen. There’s nothing to write about. Why? Because when I’m in a depression, I’m actively trying not to think. In a depression, thinking too deeply leads to panic attacks, or horrible bouts of making crap up in my head, mourning over it, and then berating myself because it hasn’t even happened. Writing tends to make me think. You see the conundrum.

Ah well. This is my journal. These are my thoughts. This is what’s going on. I’m trying to make my way out. I’m trying. That’s all I can promise right now. I’m trying.

For the last two years, I’ve basically ignored myself.  Some of it was on purpose.  For example, I’d struggled with weight loss and body image issues for so long, that I purposefully ignored them.  No attempting weight loss.  No struggling with clothes, fashion, etc.  Does it fit, and the colors go together?  Fine.  No dieting.  Everything else got ignored too.  I didn’t shave my legs unless it was date night (wink).  I didn’t get my nails done.  Cut my own hair, when the frizzies took control.  Makeup was a big deal.  I ignored myself in other ways too.  I became sort of robotic in getting through the day.  It’s been a survival mechanism of sorts.  I know I’ve been in depression on and off.  But there was no money for drugs, no money for doctors.  Anything in those terms had to be put towards the kids.  It’s not a good thing.  It just is.

This year is somehow different.  I’m ready to change my life.  But I didn’t come to some sort of decision.  Not really.  It just happened.  Something has changed.  I’m ready to tackle my weight.  I’m ready to tackle becoming more healthy.  I’m ready to tackle girly things.  Regardless of how trivial, it does matter.  But I’m making changes.  I’m analyzing things that don’t work, or obstacles that trap me.

I’m still working on quitting smoking using a step down method I created for myself.  It’s working.  It’s very slow, but that’s on purpose.  I’m down to 14 a day instead of more than 20.  Doesn’t sound like much, but that’s more than 2 packs less a week.  And I’ve not given up.  As for weight loss, I can’t afford to do anything structured, I’ve found.  So – I took a look at my diet, and figured out what stopped me and fixed it.  I never eat breakfast, snacks, and rarely eat lunch.  So, I’m eating a meal bar in the morning ,because I get up so early, making food is seriously gross to me, so I can grab it and eat it while working without thinking.  Snacks, are timed, and are either snack bars, or an easily enclosed fruit (like a banana), and another meal bar for lunch.  I cut out the obstacle of not really having time to stop, but still ingesting nutrients, which is necessary.  Dinner is the same as it always is.  I’m not worrying about it, just watching my portions.  I hate drinking water, so I’m using Crystal Lite, and that’s palatable to me.  That gets the fluids in me I need, but not as much soda.  As for exercise, I tried the Couch to 5K, and realized I REALLY REALLY hate running.  So…  3 days a week I do the shred, or just the gazelle in front of the TV.  I figured out the timing to get around other obstacles in my head.  This is good.  So, I’m moving.

If I can come up with the money, which I think I worked out, I’ll be doing something utterly ridiculous soon.  I need to get out of the house.  I need to interact with others – much as I kind of hate people.  So, I’m taking a tap dancing course.  It’s something I can do, I’m actually pretty damn good at it, and don’t feel like a poseur, like I would if I were taking something like hip-hop.  I seriously coveted the grownups high heeled tap shoes as a child in tap, and now I get to wear them 😉  I feel so silly telling you about it, because it brings to mind sequins, tulle, recitals, and parents in the audience with their trusty camera ::shudder::.  But guess what?  I’m doing it anyway.  It’s fun!  When I told Poe, the look on his face was classic.  He was stuck there, laughter alternating with supportive, right there warring on his face.

You know what I did last weekend?  While watching Netflix, I polished my nails.  They don’t look half bad, and make me feel sexy.  I shaved my legs.  I have no idea why.  I just did.

I’ve been researching and studying spiritual matters important to me – not what I was told to study, or what others deem important.

After these small incremental changes, I realized something.  I hate to quote Justin Timberlake, but I’m totally bringing the sexy back.  And?  It has nothing to do with my husband.  Now, there are fringe benefits that go with it, surely, but I realized that what’s really happening, is I’m reclaiming me.  I’m reclaiming my womanhood.  I’m doing things slowly but surely that make me feel sexy, confident, and attractive inside and out.  I’m learning about myself – what makes me tick, and how to make these changes work with me instead of against me.  Somewhere along the line, “it just doesn’t matter,” stopped creeping in my head.  Life is just so short.  This is still the case.  Whereas before, that made me feel defeated, and as if what I was doing didn’t matter, who cares?  Why take the time or the energy?  Now, it’s as if that very fact is prodding me on.

I’m finding Michele again.  I didn’t even realize I’d lost her.  This year is somehow different.

I really hesitate to write this out.  More people from my personal life read here than ever before.  As a result, the place for me to dredge my thoughts has been censored.  Diluted.  I’m at the point of total writer’s block.  Don’t get too personal…  Your business contacts might find you (dude, I’ve been writing online since ’95.  It’s out there.)  Don’t get too controversial.  Don’t get too bitchy.  Don’t talk too much about religion.  Don’t talk about other people.

I’m done.  I can’t do it anymore.  I’m reclaiming this place.  It’s my journal.  It’s my journey.  I need it.  I do it publicly, because I don’t have many friends.  I need the community so I don’t hole up completely.  It’s personal.  Dirty.  Challenging.  Ugly.  My thoughts.  I have to get them out, and this is the only place I know how to do it.

I’ve been dealing with some crap from my past life.  You know – BK?  Before kids.  Before marriage.  It’s not like rehab, where I have to make amends.  I wasn’t hurtful to others, except maybe my parents.  That situation is something I’ll deal with later.  But it’s crappy things that I did or happened to me that were hurtful to me.  I’m a crossing guard, which doesn’t have anything to do with anything, except that I am not allowed to multitask.  I am a great multitasker.  So I have to sit there for long periods of time, just watching for people.  Thoughts keep creeping up into my head about something that happened to me a long time ago.  I finally had a dream about it last night, so I guess I have to get it out.  Maybe by writing it all out I can purge it?  At least for now?  I don’t know.

I’m closing comments on this post.  Those have the need to talk to me about it know how to get a hold of me.  I’m changing names so it’s not google-able.  The rest is below the fold.

Continue Reading