Despite the sensitive gal sensory overload event below, today wasn't so bad. Really.



See? A smile.

I've been trying to practice resilience this week. Monday was great, awesome. Wonderful therapy session, blue skies, a walk around the lake with the breeze keeping me cool. The ability to look at small things and appreciate them. I had decided to focus on my husband, to notice him, to be his friend, and not just co-parents of the same children. And somehow this was misinterpreted. It is hard to change patterns. Either the new efforts aren't noticed, or misunderstood. Add to that some work stress for him, and some hurtful things were said. Honest to goodness sobbing followed, on my part anyway. I just couldn't understand how my good intentions could have been twisted into something so hurtful. Here I was, working so hard to make things different. And boom. Explosions.

Emotions have always lingered for me. Wait, scratch that--negative emotions have always lingered. How many hours did I spend in my room as a kid/preteen/teen feeling that burn? Stoking the fire of sadness, anger. I find it difficult to accept an apology and move on. Things just hurt too much, and I need time to recover. And so it went on Monday night. I was pissed that my great mood was so fleeting, and wondered how long it would be till I could recapture it. I wondered how long the feeling of wishing I weren't alive would last (note: to me this feeling is very different than feeling like I'm going to actually run out and commit suicide. It is simply feeling so blue, so awful, so misunderstood that I wish I didn't exist). And then I tried something different. I am not sure if this idea was born from my head fully grown like Athena, but somehow I told myself that I could feel crappy all night Monday, but that on Tuesday I had to keep doing what I'd done Monday morning to feel so good. To continue trying to change my patterns of communication with my husband, even if he didn't understand the new pattern at first.

Like I mentioned yesterday I wonder about this. Did I not learn to handle my emotions well as a child? Is it a product of being anxious for as long as I can remember--did stewing feel better than worrying about everything, wondering if I was good enough, doing enough, doing things correctly and perfectly? Is falling down the rabbit hole of depression and gloom a product of having a mental disorder, or is it a habit I fell into somehow? What do "regular" people go through when they have a bad day? Do they just naturally bounce back, or do those days have the potential to multiply like dirty dishes piling up next to the sink?

I definitely believe that I need my medication. There is a place for new skills and coping mechanisms too. I know that I've been working so hard on myself for so long. When did life get so much harder for me? Was it having kids that made everything so much more complicated? Marriage?

Huh. I guess part of me wonders if I'm faking it. Have I just latched on to the word disorder as declared by my psychiatrist and therapist? Rationally I don't believe that, but the thoughts are down in there somewhere I suppose. I know my husband has a hard time with it. A broken arm, or diabetes, or a cold-those are things he can wrap his mind around. Generalized Anxiety Disorder? Not so much. Yet those three words have helped me understand my life so much better, and I really have been better able to translate myself and my behaviors for my husband.

So I think I'll go to bed with hope filling up my heart. I did turn the week around from the direction it was headed on Monday night. Whether it was my medication, an amazing meditation yesterday morning, self-talk and determination, or this nifty gadget for my Google home page giving me a smile every time I see it doesn't really matter. I just need to keep on practicing.

Full on Freakout Averted

So I was clearly starting to lose it last night. I think I only ended up with about 5.5 hours of sleep, and when the kids woke me to solve some dispute I had the same headache I went to bed with. Before I went to bed, my husband did reassure me that things would be ok today, and then he stayed up later and washed dishes. Yay!

I grabbed a journal this morning when we left the house, and I gave my pen a workout in the car. Here is some of what I wrote.

***

We're heading to religious school at synagogue. My head throbs, and I'm thirsty. My body has been in flux this week--not totally sure if it wants to menstruate or not. I'm kind of over that! Decide already body!

I'm worried about how I'm going to handle the five 4-6 year olds in my class this morning, and how much more wiped out I'll be when class is over. How hard it will be to come home and accomplish the tasks I wanted to do yesterday. Cleaning. Laundry. Maybe even sewing.

Last night I intended to finish editing a letter and return it to the author, post on the blog, and read the Yiddish Policeman's Union. Instead I hit refresh endless times on my email, read blogs and nytimes.com, and then hit refresh some more.

At 11:30 I was finally finished with the editing, and posted to the blog. My husband woke up around midnight, and we talked and watched tv. I shared my frustration with myself. At letting the day pass through my fingers. At not being present for the kids, him, for myself. For squandering opportunity, and time. How my head hurt from lack of sleep.

Now we're at temple and I'm waiting for my turn to teach. I'm relieved. Only two of my kids are here (and one is my daughter). I'm feeling much more optimistic about going home and getting back on track.

***

Erik helped me out with the two kids who were present today, and after a story we made some cool prints using homemade stamps. I used cardboard and styrofoam to create some Chanukah shapes. Next week we'll turn our prints into cards. At one point Erik said "Imagine all five of them were here?" Yes, I can imagine, and I'm thankful that it was a small group today. Although of course I feel bad about the kids who missed out.

Erik planned ahead for lunch; the kids got report cards last week. They had a coupon for a free meal at *gasp* McDonald's! It worked out really well for us today, I have to admit. We came home, and set to work on doing more laundry, putting laundry away, and tidying up. We're not ready for House Beautiful, but we've regained just enough control to help me feel better. And that is priceless.

Closer, Together

There have been a lot of frustrated people in our house over the past year. Well, four of us to be exact. The kids would be kids, my cup would run over with anxiety, Erik would try to step in and fix things, and everyone would stomp off to their corner. Erik and I didn't get along much better than all four of us did. Yikes!

Even before I started feeling better, things began to improve when I understood more about what was going on with myself. I do a lot of thinking, but don't always share, even with my husband. I've realized (duh!) that I need to share what is going on inside, or he's not going to be able to help me, or even to understand why I act the way I do. I need to be mindful of my thought processes, talk back to myself when the automatic thoughts are wrong, and share those inner thoughts when the going is tough. This experience has brought us closer together.

From the depths it wasn't always easy to see all he was doing for me. I know I said some of this a few posts ago, but I really wanted to write something specifically thanking and recognizing Erik. (and was further pushed to do so by OMSH.) Without either of us really saying, my gosh, something not so great is going on here, he took over bedtime this summer, and took over dinner prep as well. Never once did he say, for heaven's sake woman, why can't you get out of bed and start dinner? Can't you read a goodnight story to one of the kids? Nope, he just went and took care of things.

Erik, when we met I was so intrigued by your laid back nature. I always hoped some of it would rub off on me. Sadly I think more of my high strung nature has rubbed off on you than the reverse, but we still make a great team. I know I am not the easiest person to live with, and it may seem that I don't always appreciate all you do for us. Thank you for loving me.

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PS: I passed!

I did something huge yesterday. I bought a piece of furniture for our house without consulting my husband. You see, I'm a reasonable person. I like to confer with him, my partner, my co-homeowner on decisions like this. Sadly my ideas are usually turned down, and the end result is that I feel that I have no control over certain decisions regarding my own home.

I think it is going to be a great addition, and will help manage some everyday clutter- backpacks, dance bag, etc.

The Twilight Zone

There comes a time in discussions with my husband, very often when we are under pressure or on the verge of a major blowup, when I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. I hear the words he's saying, but they make no reasonable sense. I think he hears my words, but what happens to them once they enter his brain I couldn't tell you. Sometimes it happens when I've been particularly careful with my words, to ensure that I'm clearly portraying my needs--and yet I'm still misunderstood.

We're kind of having one of those nights tonight. As the man sings, So love is hard And love is tough.