I haven't posted anything in a really long time. Here's why: I've really been struggling lately, and not just with my weight. I have come to realize that I just can't do it all. Or, if I do try to fit it all in, then my family will suffer. The stress of this summer has really been overwhelming, and I finally had to make my way to my midwife (who also does well-woman checkups) to find out why I couldn't sleep, couldn't remember anything, couldn't focus or get motivated to do anything, and why I felt angry all the time. I was hoping for some concrete answers, but all I got was "you're depressed, take this..." and was handed a prescription.
I have a hard time with the word "depression." I don't feel like a depressed person. I just feel like things are sort of spinning out of control. And the word "depressed" conjurs up images of my father, who is mentally ill--manic depressive--and very unstable. I've spent most of my life fearing that I would end up like either my father (crazy) or my mother (irresponsible). So to get tagged as "depressed" really made me feel like a failure. But, desperate for some relief of this all-consuming feeling that I was about to explode, I tried the prescription. So far it seems to be helping with my mood. I have more patience with the kids. I cope better when things really seem to be going to crap. But I can't shake this feeling that I'm just not good enough. I don't know if any pill can cure that one. In fact, I don't even know why I have this feeling.
I have not lost much weight at all. I think in the past six weeks I've lost another 2 pounds. I'm at 220 and haven't fluctuated from that number since I started the medication. The past couple of weeks I haven't had time to fit in my daily exercise, and I've struggled with that. But I've come to realize that I JUST CAN'T DO IT ALL. Sometimes sleep and family have to come ahead of working out. I'm hoping to start back to a regular work out routine again after we get back from Hawaii.
Oh, Hawaii. I have such mixed feelings about this "vacation." What kind of a spoiled brat wouldn't salivate at the chance to jet away to paradise? Why would I even think of complaining about the trip of a lifetime? I don't know. It seems like an insane amount of work for me to get all four kids ready, through the hellacious trip there, and then readjusted for two weeks when we get there, not to mention the even more hellacious trip home and the second readjustment back to real life. I will, in theory, have help. But I've been down this road before. My "help" is in vacation mode, and isn't going to want to offer me a break. Of course David will be there, and will definitely be a help. But so often, having him around for too long makes things harder, since he doesn't do things quite the way I do them. At any rate, I know this vacation is more like two weeks of intense work for me, and I just don't know if I'm up to it. But I'm hoping that we'll get there and I will be pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things go, and I'll stretch out on the beach and wonder what I was so worried about...we will see. We leave tomorrow.
I still don't have a job. I haven't even gotten a single interview. Not a single phone call. Only two or three e-mails to say, "sorry, we don't have the position available." But most of my applications generate complete and total silence. I am worried that I made the wrong decision to do this now. What if I've just shelled out a few thousand dollars that we don't have in order to get certified for a job I can't get? I just don't know. I've been saying that a lot lately. I don't know.
Our house is still not done, but it is very close. We should get to move in in mid-July. We are waiting to hear about our loan, which will take such an enormous burden off of David's mind. He has been so worried about the money situation, even though he tries to be the strong one and not let on that he's freaking out. I will be so relieved when we get settled in and can put this whole transition behind us.
On a brighter note, Rowan is walking! Yes, I said walking. She just turned 10 mos. on Tuesday, and has been taking steps for about the last week and a half. I never had a 9 month old walk. It's crazy. She is toddling everywhere now, and can't be stopped. She is such a joy to us, just the happiest little thing. And her smile is one thing that is sure to brighten me up if I'm having a rough day. She just had a recent appointment at Scottish Rite, and her x-ray was not that encouraging. She had digressed from 10 degrees to 16 degrees, but the doctor thought it was just because she was standing for the x-ray instead of laying down. He said that when we go back in September, if there is any more increase in her curve, then we will move right into casting. I am hoping that she improves. I don't know how I would handle a baby in a body cast.
The final two straws that have just about broken me have been hard to cope with. First, my friend Kristie lost her sweet 4 month old baby girl to SIDS. I still tear up to think of this kind, gentle, sweet and loving woman grieving like this. It really hit me between the eyes....I have nothing to complain about. I still have my babies, healthy and safe. The second thing is that my friend Julie, who has been my cheerleader and my encouragement through all my struggles, is moving tomorrow to Kansas. I really don't know what I'm going to do without her. She has been the glue that has kept me together, and I have counted on her for so much. First I lost my friend Marie last summer, and now Julie is gone too. I hate goodbye.
Wow, what a post of gloom and doom, huh? I guess this is why I've avoided posting for so long. It is hard to face your demons. But you guys know me, ever the optimist. I know that once fall comes, that cool air will usher in a sense of relief for me. If I can just walk through the fire right now, I know I will make it to the other side.