Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Depression and Anxiety, oh How I Loathe Thee (Hymn No. 182)

I don't really feel like blogging. I feel like going to sleep. The problem is, if I try to go to sleep now I'll be wide awake at like 3 AM, which is useful only if I'm taking an early flight to somewhere tropical.

Which I'm not.

I am actually sitting at my PC, which is not normally from where I blog. I have been blogging on my iPhone but I honestly hate typing with my thumbs. It makes me a bit bonkers.

I had plans for tonight but never heard from the friend with whom I had said plans, so I guess that's not working out. I am setting off to Gilberts tomorrow to garage sale with a couple of girlfriends.

I've never been much of a garage saler. Until this December, I never regularly carried cash on me. I would drive by sales and see something interesting but not be able to stop because I had no way to pay.

I have no idea what to expect, honestly. One of the friends whom I am accompanying is a bit of an expert on garage sales. She is looking for toddler clothes. I don't need kid or toddler clothes because I get all of mine at the KidStuff Resale (look us up on Facebook, it's an epic semi-annual sale).

I am mostly looking for equipment that will help me with my weight loss goals--specifically free weights and kettlebells. I am hoping to get more of an accurate workout at home. Up to this point, I've been using empty milk gallons filled with water. As I discovered at a trip to my local Meijer recently, a milk jug full of water doesn't weigh the same as a 10-pound free weight. Having the right weights would help me strength-train more efficiently. I would also love to locate some resistance bands (for the same reason).

I am mostly anxious about this whole endeavor. I have set aside some money with which to shop, but there is so much uncertainty with garage sales. I am worried that I am going to get something early then find it later for a cheaper price. I worry all the time about spending my money incorrectly (meaning, I buy something and then find out I could have gotten it cheaper elsewhere, but by the time I find out, it's too late to return the item).

Also, I have a tough time visualizing things. My friend has tried to explain how this village-wide garage sale works. It seems like a majority of homeowners with things to sell will be selling tomorrow and Friday. I don't even know how Gilberts is laid out, so I'm not sure if we will be wandering random neighborhoods or driving from one cluster of sales to the next.

I am trying to trust my friend, the grizzled garage sale veteran. I know people have raved about the wonderful things they've found at garage sales. I am fairly certain I will walk away with very little. I guess I hope I can maybe find some books for the kids (no toys, not one single toy whatsoever), but other than that I think mostly I'll be along for the ride.

Today has been a tough day. I have been continuing to battle depression but have stopped talking about it with anyone. I have lots of friends, a good number who are in my inner circle. I just haven't felt like chatting about it. Mostly I've been wanting to isolate, which is easy when I have Doug, the Destroyer of Things.

We went on a play date yesterday and from my perspective, it was a disaster. This is a friend whose daughter attends preschool with Bekah (and performed with her in last year's recital). Lovely woman, lovely home, was happy to be invited.

They installed a pool last year and so we were all welcome to swim. I miraculously found a swim diaper that fit Doug (payday is next week and I didn't want to spend $20 if I didn't have to) and a spare swimsuit (couldn't find the one he wore last Friday).

My kids have never really had swim lessons. We can't afford them. I am a former lifeguard and swimmer, so I've been trying to teach them but it's tough when it's your own kids. Doug has never, ever had a lesson. I don't have floaties for the kids because we are infrequently at large bodies of water. I am paranoid about taking Jeremy to pools. The last time I took him, he had a nosebleed that almost caused me to take him to the ER. We drove from Cary to Crystal Lake and it never stopped or slowed down. I've never taken him back to a pool because I'm afraid it will happen again.

Doug, meanwhile, has been averse to playing in the water at the splash pad and averse to being in the lake at Three Oaks. I wasn't sure how he would take to being in the pool.

The answer is not well.

He didn't want to be in the one inflatable raft I found from last year (which sprung a leak and looked pretty pathetic by the time we left my friend's house). He didn't want to be on any of the rafts. He didn't want me to hold him. He didn't want me to not hold him. He wanted to crawl around on the border of the pool. He wanted to "jump" off of the stairs. He wanted, in short, to be at once independent and demanding at the same time.

It was worse when I tried to take him inside at the end of the playdate. He was into everything. He stood on top of the piano bench, knocked down a 3-D puzzle of Big Ben, chased the cat and generally caused mayhem.

Meanwhile, Bekah didn't want to get out of the water at all. That was so pleasant, trying to pry her away at the same time as trying to keep the house safe from Doug.

To top it off, I was exhausted. I don't mean I was a bit tired, yawning from time to time. I mean I was like asleep-on-my-feet wiped out. I had chaperoned a walking field trip to a nearby park in the morning with Jeremy's kindergarten class. I would have loved to leave the pool play date and just head home, but I had pushed Doug's occupational therapy appointment to the afternoon so we could attend the field trip. Even more, the appointment was at the therapist's office instead of at my house.

I know I had at least one microsleep at a stoplight. My eyelids were heavy and I could hardly stay awake talking to Brian on the phone. I tried to interact with Doug at the therapy appointment but it didn't succeed in waking me up any more. An iced coffee from McDs didn't even do the trick. In a rare move I went home after the appointment and laid down for a nap. It was about an hour-long nap but it didn't perk me up, either.

I really was on the verge of cancelling my outing to a friend's house. I didn't think I was going to be able to stay awake. I went and had a nice time, but when I came home I literally fell asleep (in bed) mid-sentence. I do not even remember falling asleep and I certainly didn't set my alarm.

I woke up this morning disoriented but figured because my alarm hadn't rung, it had to be before 7. Nope. When I looked at my phone it said 8:34. Typically, Jeremy is off to school by 8:30. Whoops. He made it-he was late, but he made it.

I had hoped to spend the rest of the day taking it easy, but there was no milk or lunch meat in the house. I had nothing to serve for dinner and there were no pretzels left (a lunchbox staple for both Brian and Jeremy). I also had to buy more wheat berries and yeast, do some banking and then buy tickets for Bekah's upcoming dance recital.

I was not the best version of myself today and made Bekah cry several times (not really a tough thing to do) and even made Doug cry with my tirade against the bluetooth in the van. An offer made to a friend was rejected and then another friend stood me up.

It's enough to make an insecure, depressed girl reach the end of her rope. I mentioned that I've not been talking to anyone about my depression. I don't feel bad about that and though I may be prodded about it as a result of this post, I will not change my stance.

My belief is that no one really wants to hear the ongoing struggles of someone fighting an unseen problem. Further, I don't want to turn into Debbie Downer (search the interwebs for her, it will make you laugh) and become the center of conversations at gatherings. I will continue to try and act like things are fine because I have the strength to do so. I have fought this thing for such a long time and it has yet to kill me. Therefore, I'm pretty sure it's just making me stronger.

There is no self-pity here. This has more to do with some self-reflection. See, I'm not really a fantastic friend. I have a legacy of being she-who-smothers. I have a bad tendency to take hostages, to be overbearing, to make offers randomly without being prompted, to be that person with whom time drags by, to be the insecure friend who constantly has to make sure everything is okay (are you mad at me? have I done/said/been something to upset you? what can I do to fix it?).

My readers may shake their head incredulously because they've never seen her. That's okay, you will. She only has enough strength to hide for a finite amount of time. Once her arms are shaking from having to hold all of that in, it will all explode out like a can of peanuts with a snake stuffed in it.

And so mostly I sit rocking nervously, biting my nails (not really, that's gross, but I'm going more for the image) wondering just when she-who-smothers will make her first appearance. It's kind of like watching a horror movie and knowing the bad guy is waiting in the shadows. There's a heightened feeling of dread but you are powerless from trying to stop the hapless beauty queen from being slaughtered.

So here I am. I vacillate between being convinced that I'm feeling nothing but self-pity and being convinced it is actually clinical. It's really something for the professionals to sort out, but that's not something for which I have the time or money. I try to keep especially the insecurity at bay, which is actually tougher to do. I have to refrain from asking people crazy questions all the time.

I'm fairly certain I'm going to be skipping play dates this summer. Doug is just too much to handle at people's houses or at large bodies of water. I will probably be headed to the splash pad or park most of the time. Again, I'm mostly okay with this. It stinks for Bekah because she has a lot of friends who want to play. I am hopeful that I can send her to friend's houses. Jeremy, on the other hand? Ugh, don't even get me started. I fully trust everyone to take care of my son but I don't trust my son to not be himself. It's a lot of anxiety for me to sit at home and wonder at what point his friend's parent will be on the other end of the phone or text, asking me to come get him.

Yeah, I think the splash pad is going to get a lot of action from the Patronik family. You'll know we're there because you'll see me supervising Doug at the water fountain and drainage ditch--because isn't a drainage ditch more fun than the splash pad?!?!?

I am not looking to garner sympathy or concerned messages or anything from this post. I am just trying to figure out for myself how to be a mom and navigate the morass of depression and anxiety in which I now find myself. I blog because I need the catharsis, not because I'm trying to fish for help or compliments or fixes to problems. I blog because I need an outlet.

I hope other moms who read this can relate, but if you can't please recognize I'm probably not the only mom friend you have who is struggling in this way (either with depression or in trying to manage one or multiple kids with special needs). Please help me and those moms by praying for them. It is not an easy road to walk, even when surrounded by friends and family. It's an isolating thing, to have those two things (or one of the two) going on. You don't have to have pity for these moms, but please be understanding if she says she is lonely and then declines play dates. It's overwhelming to take (what other people see as) rambunctious kids to other people's houses.

The alternative, coming to my house, is not viable either. My house is literally a pit of gross right now. I don't like inviting people to my house because it's in disrepair, dirty and cluttered. I don't want people to judge me, I don't want to stress myself and my family out by cleaning for a week straight and I can't seem to get myself motivated enough to tackle any project.

So like I said, splash pad it is. (Oh, and don't think if you meet up with me at the splash pad that we will be able to chat because I will be chasing Doug over every square inch of the park.)

Anyhow, I don't feel 100% better but at least I've been able to express how I'm feeling. Hopefully sleep will not be elusive and I will be able to "prepare the face to meet the faces that I meet." Until then.

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