I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection as we’ve approached the New Year. It’s been a bit of a process, full of pitfalls and brief moments of clarity. I know many of you have noticed that I’ve done little writing over the past several months. Some of you have even been so amazingly loving as to send me little messages and comments of encouragement. I thank you deeply. As much as for myself, it is for you that I am writing this.
Pregnancy and motherhood brought with it a set of challenges that I somewhat expected, but not as fully as I thought. My depression threw me to depths I couldn’t have imagined and had not previously experienced. Today, I’m having a good day. I’ve done laundry, done the dishes several times, and even made a couple of business calls that I haven’t been able to make in over a month. 4 days ago, I was an emotional wreck and barely functional. I can tell that much of it is hormonally triggered, but not all of it, and none of it is nearly as manageable as I feel it used to be.
This is all a topic that I can at least somewhat talk about, but this is the first time I’ve ever written it down. Perhaps you’ve experienced this. You can talk about something all day long, but the minute you write it down… it’s inescapably unavoidable. There’s a moment of heartbreak that you can’t describe, and you suddenly don’t know what to do next. For months I’ve gone back and forth about whether I can overcome this naturally, or whether I will have to finally give in and take prescription meds that I REALLY don’t want to take. I’m still praying that I’ll find the right supplements that will help me conquer this thing, and the anxiety that has recently added itself into the mix.
I have also discovered that, in the middle of battling off this depression and anxiety, I’ve also been in a pretty mega pity party mode. Maybe that seems redundant, but there really does seem to be a separation for me. It’s as if I’m having a pity party over struggling with my moods, lack of interest and motivation, and my anger. At times I feel completely at the mercy of my emotions and I start to feel sorry for myself as a result. I guess it’s just more to add to the crazy.
So, as I began, leading up to this year, I’ve started to feel a little smacked around. In a good way. I’ve started to recognize those pity parties for what they are – NOT part of the depression, but in fact, something I CAN control! – and I’m tired of living that way. My life was not meant to be lived at the mercy of my hormones and emotions. There are so many things that truly excite me about life, and I’m tired of feeling such intense apathy towards them. I’m tired of how quickly I get irritated with my daughter’s babyness. Guess what, folks? SHE’S A BABY!!!! I’m tired of being angry all the time at things that I have absolutely no control over. And I’m tired of saying that I own my own business, but I’m doing absolutely nothing to create success for myself and my family. I have utterly failed myself because of one giant pity party!!!
This year, it’s time to give a shit again. I’m not sure if I even remember or could pinpoint the last time I did that. Not really. I remember that there WAS a time, I just couldn’t tell you when it occurred. I’m not sure if I’m exactly making resolutions this year… perhaps that’s what they are. But really, they all revolve around me remembering that I actually matter. That I’m worth caring about myself. I’ve already starting walking 2 miles about 5-6 times a week on average. Next, it’s my teeth.
REALLY embarrassing confession here, but at some point, I kind of gave up on my teeth. They’re bad anyway, and I have soft enamel. You would think that would make me work harder to keep them as clean and strong as possible. But something happens when you stop thinking you matter. If you don’t matter, neither do your teeth. So now, my mouth is a horrifying mess, but it’s time to start caring about it again. Pray for me on that one… good habits have always been agonizingly difficult for me to build.
I’m also embarking on a lifelong endeavor to get my life more organized. I require massive, obsessive organization in order to function, right down to tedium and minutia. This explains entirely why my life/room/ house is such a hot mess. If that organization is remotely taken out of balance, as unstable as it is, it’s like a bomb going off, and there’s no going back. I want to reclaim that. I knew it once… for about one semester of college. It was wonderful. I’d like to see if I can get it back.
Next, this blog. I’d like to see if I can post once a week. Daily would be amazing for me, but maybe right now I just need to take baby steps. I’m bad at that. REALLY bad at that. I either take on my ventures at full speed, or not at all. Baby steps is a practically foreign concept!!
Finally, my guitar. That poor dear has been waiting so patiently while I try to sort out my drama. I’m grateful that she is so steady a companion, silently there, knowing I’ll come back when I’m ready. She knows I love her, but I really do miss her. Part of me wonders that if I could get her back as a regular part of my day, maybe things would make a little more sense in this world. Maybe some semblance of peace would return.
My upline manager with Gigi Hill has given our team a challenge this year. We have been asked to come up with a one-word theme for ourselves this year. I struggled for a few days to really get what mine needed to be. I knew I wanted it to be motivating and something that would make me feel the little kick in the but I know I need this year. While watching Tuesday’s The Biggest Loser with my family last night, there was one particular scene in which Bob and Jillian’s team has to push a truck around the Ranch. At at moment, the underscore starts playing, and it’s Switchfoot’s “Dare You to Move.” In an instant, I knew. That song has always spoken to me, and I hear it screaming a little more loudly right now, exactly when I so desperately need it. And so, my one-word theme for this year is this. MOVE!
Who knows. I guess we’ll see in a couple of months how well I’m doing with any of this. BUT, for today, I can at least be proud that I did that laundry and kept the sink clean for a decent part of the day. Some days, it’s the little things.