I was reading the Not-Right-Writer's blog today... she's an old friend from high school, super-smart, quirky in all the best ways, but a bit too hard on herself. Her most recent post included a lament about her husband and his actions... a few things he did that annoyed her to no end, and as her reader, knowing her feelings about aforementioned things, I'll say justifiably so...
HOWEVER... I know the secret to dealing with such "things"! I pass my secret, The Theory of Stupid, along to almost every new bride I know, to me it's key to preserving harmony and the female sense of well-being.
I started to write NWW a note, but since she reads my blog, I thought it better to impart this wisdom to all married womankind; a morsel that offers that extra bit of sanity for women in our Mars/Venus marriages, if you will.
Early in our marriage, I used to get REALLY frustrated with Deat. (St. Deat? Yes, St. Deat.) Sometimes it seemed every action he took (particularly outside my presence) was designed to wreak havoc on my mental and emotional stability: his jeans laying on the bathroom floor, RIGHT IN FRONT of the hamper, AGAIN! I fell into the seat-left-up toliet, AGAIN! He moved the papers that I desperately needed for work the next day and left me scrambling, AGAIN!
Then one day it dawned on me: He's just stupid. Deat didn't drop his jeans on the floor to annoy me: He's just stupid. He didn't sit giggling, planning the fun when I had stop everything and wash my behind from falling in the toilet: He's just stupid. He CERTAINLY didn't plan to interfere with my ability to help bring income into the house!
See, the problem with we women is we interpret every single action as MEANING something... as SAYING something about our husbands' feelings for us, for the things we value. "This means he doesn't CARE!" The reality: most of 'em, they just don't think that far ahead.
The good news: ladies, you can apply The Theory of Stupid to almost any idiotic move your husband makes! Truly, most of the time they aren't thinking about the consequences or our dismay... that doesn't mean they don't love us, they're just stupid.
I think I chose "stupid" because "thoughtless" feels too much like a major character flaw... something to fester over. "Stupid" has just enough meanness to satisfy the need for revenge, but at the same time, you really can't STAY mad at someone simply for being stupid.
He really does love you, he really does care about your well-being... He's just stupid.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Playing with My Blog
I've been goofing off with this last night and all morning... it could have something to do with the cleaning that I'm desperately trying to avoid, but nothing to do with my competitive nature. (TLC, these blogs don't count... or maybe this and prior 2 could count as 1.) Or, it could have EVERYTHING to do with the fact that the girls have been at Deat's parents' house since Thursday night and this place is WAAAAAAY too quiet.
Anyway, I've finally figured out how to put THE RULES in a prominent place, and have the player available on every page.
I also chose a new random question to answer in my profile last night.
The new question was: You've successfully slain the dragon! How will you toast your marshmallows?
And I answered: Um, gee. Maybe if I'd TAMED him instead of slaying him I'd have options here...
Then I got to thinking: What if people think I'm calling Deat "The Dragon"?
So, for the record, Deat was not a dragon and I didn't slay him; though, there were a few random times in our marriage that he was and I wanted to. I have the autopsy report to attest to my innocence. (If you are offended by dark, recovering-widow humor, my apologies)
Just in case, I'm going to go seek a new random question now...
Anyway, I've finally figured out how to put THE RULES in a prominent place, and have the player available on every page.
I also chose a new random question to answer in my profile last night.
The new question was: You've successfully slain the dragon! How will you toast your marshmallows?
And I answered: Um, gee. Maybe if I'd TAMED him instead of slaying him I'd have options here...
Then I got to thinking: What if people think I'm calling Deat "The Dragon"?
So, for the record, Deat was not a dragon and I didn't slay him; though, there were a few random times in our marriage that he was and I wanted to. I have the autopsy report to attest to my innocence. (If you are offended by dark, recovering-widow humor, my apologies)
Just in case, I'm going to go seek a new random question now...
Oh, and While I'm Entertaining...
Yes, I've mentioned it before, I am a huge What's a Delmer Look Like Fan.
I was just re-reading "Dear Airline Person" It's a prime example of why I think Delmer is so great: He's polite to fault and never takes himself too seriously. Some might (erroneously) assume he's a pushover. Not so, but in this post he even meets injustice with good humor. He's also the one who taught me to do my best to entertain. (That, and he directed his readers to my "Humbug" post. I was flattered beyond words!)
If you go read "Dear Airline Person" , after you read it don't forget to go back and click the "they break guitars" link in the post!
I was just re-reading "Dear Airline Person" It's a prime example of why I think Delmer is so great: He's polite to fault and never takes himself too seriously. Some might (erroneously) assume he's a pushover. Not so, but in this post he even meets injustice with good humor. He's also the one who taught me to do my best to entertain. (That, and he directed his readers to my "Humbug" post. I was flattered beyond words!)
If you go read "Dear Airline Person" , after you read it don't forget to go back and click the "they break guitars" link in the post!
Oops, it isn't the first day of the year anymore
Did I mention I'm not a big holiday fan lately?
I've often heard that the second year after losing a spouse is worse, and from the last 10 months, I completely concur. I talked to Sam today and we agreed that this Christmas (the second one for each of us) was much harder.
I told him I think it's because during the first year you're so busy figuring out the mere logistics of how to live life without your spouse, that you're almost too busy, too focused on figuring out what your "new normal" needs to look like, to greive properly. The second year, you have all your new "hows and whys" for your day-to-day in place, so its then that the magnitude of what you lost sets in.
Since that's a rather dreary topic, and I do so love to entertain, I decided to again add a bit of media for your amusement. I watched "Hancock" tonight, (Love Will Smith in any movie he does.) and this was the intro music. I liked it so well, I looked it up so you, dear reader, wouldn't have to.
Don't forget to pause the automatic player at the top right of the page! (Or, alternately, you can select #158 on the auto-player and skip the player below altogether.)
I've often heard that the second year after losing a spouse is worse, and from the last 10 months, I completely concur. I talked to Sam today and we agreed that this Christmas (the second one for each of us) was much harder.
I told him I think it's because during the first year you're so busy figuring out the mere logistics of how to live life without your spouse, that you're almost too busy, too focused on figuring out what your "new normal" needs to look like, to greive properly. The second year, you have all your new "hows and whys" for your day-to-day in place, so its then that the magnitude of what you lost sets in.
Since that's a rather dreary topic, and I do so love to entertain, I decided to again add a bit of media for your amusement. I watched "Hancock" tonight, (Love Will Smith in any movie he does.) and this was the intro music. I liked it so well, I looked it up so you, dear reader, wouldn't have to.
Don't forget to pause the automatic player at the top right of the page! (Or, alternately, you can select #158 on the auto-player and skip the player below altogether.)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
My Secret Favorite Christmas Song
I was desperately trying to come up with something to say for tonight... if for no other reason than to goad TLC, but I got nothin'... one little story about B.B..
Today at Walmart:
Me: B.B., do you want to look for something to ask Santa for?
B.B.: No (long pause) I want to be mean and hateful!
(Of course, that's much funnier knowing B.B.'s disagreeable tendencies and juxtapositioning it with her angelic 4 year-old voice.)
And a confession...
Today at Walmart:
Me: B.B., do you want to look for something to ask Santa for?
B.B.: No (long pause) I want to be mean and hateful!
(Of course, that's much funnier knowing B.B.'s disagreeable tendencies and juxtapositioning it with her angelic 4 year-old voice.)
And a confession...
Saturday, December 5, 2009
HUMBUG!
12/04/11 Editors note: If your Christmas tree is giving you problems and you Googled the name and got sent here, the only help I can offer you is to try THIS; although you can read the following year's entry and learn that it helped some, but not all of the problems.
P.D. asked me yesterday why artificial Christmas trees were invented.
"Well honey, I guess so people won't have to go to the trouble of going to buy a tree every year, they'll already have one at home. It's just easier."
Today, I had to rethink my answer.
For our first Christmas in this house, (2005) my mom bought a pre-lit tree for us. (Actually, for P.D.... she said that her baby deserved something better than the "table-top fiber optic gizmo" that Deat and I called "Our Christmas Tree".)
Oh, that tree that Momma bought, it's a beaut... a 7 1/2 ft Emerald Peak Tree (From K-mart's Martha Stewart line no less). It "features 800 multicolored lights and 1,504 easy-to-shape branch tips Revolving stand included" Yes, that's right folks, my tree TURNS. And man, that first 2 years, well, she was glorious. (Although, I will admit, having an angel staring down while turning in a circle as if she were surveying the room took some getting used to.)
Last December was terribly hectic, not to mention a hard one to "get into the spirit" so putting up the tree was a hurried affair one afternoon after school. I pulled apart the bunched-up branches like fighting fire. As a result, we had a somewhat "gappy" tree. Later in the season, one small line of lights near the bottom stopped lighting... no matter... in a few seconds the good side of the tree came around again anyway. Besides this thing has at least 16 different plugs (with a configuration so confusing, it came with all of the sockets pre-plugged except for the 3 letter-matched plugs and sockets required to connect the 3 different layers of tree.)
Today I decided I'd take a little extra care; I'd take advantage of those "easy-to-shape tips" to make sure our tree would look like the one on the box again. I thought to myself this morning, "I'll try to find that line if I have time and fix it, too."
So, I set the first section in the stand... two rows of branches that fall into place when you set them upright. I noticed as I was shaping the bottom row that the upper-row branches I kept pushing up out my way refused to say there, so I called to P.D. to bring one of my belts from my closet. I pushed all of the upper row branches up out of my way and cinched them with the belt.. worked like a charm! So there I sat on the floor shaping each tip, branch by branch; turn the tree, shape the next one... so pleased with my work... repeat for the next row.
Luckily, P.D. had retrieved not one belt, as I requested, but all of them, so I already had them for the middle section (five rows). I took the top-most of the middle sections branches, cinched them, then the second top-most, cinched them and so on down, so when I finished shaping the bottom-most section I was working on, all I had to do was release the belt above it, and only the very-next row would drop for shaping.
I really wish that had been as easy as it reads here. Those easy-to-shape tips (and the greenery adorning them) hurt! Anyone who has ever made the mistake of working in hay in short sleeves can relate to the scratches covering my lower arms. If you can't relate... be glad. One hour in, and I'm only beginning to shape the bottom-most row of branches for the middle section. It took me another hour to get those rows shaped.
Luckily, TLC called and kept me company for half of that ordeal and the shaping of the top section. As I mentioned to her on the phone, with 2 hours, I could have run out and bought a real tree, and the price would have been a cheap exchange for scratch-free arms! We discussed several topics as I worked, one being that she, (unlike me) had blogged 3 times in November and had also blogged yesterday. As I finished the top section, I told TLC I had to go... it was time to start the decorating.
I plugged in my 3 trusty letter-matched plugs and called to the girls for the first lighting....
Only one of that multitude of light-strings lit.... ONE half of ONE side of ONE row on the bottom of the tree. Just then, I noticed a tag on the plug leading into the base, "One spare fuse inside the socket." Hooray! It's probably just that fuse, right? I opened it up, checked the fuse inside, but it looked fine. I re-plugged the main wire into the wall socket... and now none of the lights will light.
Next year, I believe I'll be forgoing the convenience of my artifical tree for a troublesome real one!
Oh well, while my Christmas Spirit may be a bit lacking at the moment, my competitive spirit is alive and well... At least now I'm one up on TLC for blogging in December.
P.D. asked me yesterday why artificial Christmas trees were invented.
"Well honey, I guess so people won't have to go to the trouble of going to buy a tree every year, they'll already have one at home. It's just easier."
Today, I had to rethink my answer.
For our first Christmas in this house, (2005) my mom bought a pre-lit tree for us. (Actually, for P.D.... she said that her baby deserved something better than the "table-top fiber optic gizmo" that Deat and I called "Our Christmas Tree".)
Oh, that tree that Momma bought, it's a beaut... a 7 1/2 ft Emerald Peak Tree (From K-mart's Martha Stewart line no less). It "features 800 multicolored lights and 1,504 easy-to-shape branch tips Revolving stand included" Yes, that's right folks, my tree TURNS. And man, that first 2 years, well, she was glorious. (Although, I will admit, having an angel staring down while turning in a circle as if she were surveying the room took some getting used to.)
Last December was terribly hectic, not to mention a hard one to "get into the spirit" so putting up the tree was a hurried affair one afternoon after school. I pulled apart the bunched-up branches like fighting fire. As a result, we had a somewhat "gappy" tree. Later in the season, one small line of lights near the bottom stopped lighting... no matter... in a few seconds the good side of the tree came around again anyway. Besides this thing has at least 16 different plugs (with a configuration so confusing, it came with all of the sockets pre-plugged except for the 3 letter-matched plugs and sockets required to connect the 3 different layers of tree.)
Today I decided I'd take a little extra care; I'd take advantage of those "easy-to-shape tips" to make sure our tree would look like the one on the box again. I thought to myself this morning, "I'll try to find that line if I have time and fix it, too."
So, I set the first section in the stand... two rows of branches that fall into place when you set them upright. I noticed as I was shaping the bottom row that the upper-row branches I kept pushing up out my way refused to say there, so I called to P.D. to bring one of my belts from my closet. I pushed all of the upper row branches up out of my way and cinched them with the belt.. worked like a charm! So there I sat on the floor shaping each tip, branch by branch; turn the tree, shape the next one... so pleased with my work... repeat for the next row.
Luckily, P.D. had retrieved not one belt, as I requested, but all of them, so I already had them for the middle section (five rows). I took the top-most of the middle sections branches, cinched them, then the second top-most, cinched them and so on down, so when I finished shaping the bottom-most section I was working on, all I had to do was release the belt above it, and only the very-next row would drop for shaping.
I really wish that had been as easy as it reads here. Those easy-to-shape tips (and the greenery adorning them) hurt! Anyone who has ever made the mistake of working in hay in short sleeves can relate to the scratches covering my lower arms. If you can't relate... be glad. One hour in, and I'm only beginning to shape the bottom-most row of branches for the middle section. It took me another hour to get those rows shaped.
Luckily, TLC called and kept me company for half of that ordeal and the shaping of the top section. As I mentioned to her on the phone, with 2 hours, I could have run out and bought a real tree, and the price would have been a cheap exchange for scratch-free arms! We discussed several topics as I worked, one being that she, (unlike me) had blogged 3 times in November and had also blogged yesterday. As I finished the top section, I told TLC I had to go... it was time to start the decorating.
I plugged in my 3 trusty letter-matched plugs and called to the girls for the first lighting....
Only one of that multitude of light-strings lit.... ONE half of ONE side of ONE row on the bottom of the tree. Just then, I noticed a tag on the plug leading into the base, "One spare fuse inside the socket." Hooray! It's probably just that fuse, right? I opened it up, checked the fuse inside, but it looked fine. I re-plugged the main wire into the wall socket... and now none of the lights will light.
Next year, I believe I'll be forgoing the convenience of my artifical tree for a troublesome real one!
Oh well, while my Christmas Spirit may be a bit lacking at the moment, my competitive spirit is alive and well... At least now I'm one up on TLC for blogging in December.
Friday, December 4, 2009
I Feel Lucky, Too
Can you guys stand a story about how great my kid is?
Today is Friday, the day B.B. gets to spend all day with Mommy.
She's not actually old enough for Headstart (missed the deadline by 2 months) but she attends anyway at a local childcare. There's no Headstart on Friday, so we hang out together all day. Sometimes we go pick up McDonalds for breakfast after we drop P.D. off at school.
Normally, P.D. is my angel, always thinking of others and putting them ahead of herself. Most times, P.D. is really happy for B.B. when she gets to do something special. (My Dad says he's never seen a child as good as P.D.... he says he knows HE didn't have one!) Her sweet and kind nature make her sorrows that much more painful for me to see.
So, her reaction this morning really threw me. As B.B. was chattering happily about going to get pancakes, P.D. became jealous and hurt; she was so mad she wouldn't eat breakfast here at all. I reminded her that she and I had a lunch date earlier in the week after her doctor's appointment. Since I live for teachable moments, I also pointed out that this was why the Bible tells us not to covet... it only makes us miserable. I pointed out other examples where she got to go do special things without her sister. She was having none of it.
I spent forever on the phone this morning with my sister discussing it, it really upset me.
This afternoon when B.B. and I picked her up, she was in a serious but sweet mood. She reached over in the car and hugged me and said she was sorry for being angry this morning.
"I re-read part of 'A Child Called It' today." (A book about an abused child that had really upset her.)
Thinking this was P.D. changing the subject, I replied, "Oh, it made you really sad again, huh?"
"No, it made me feel lucky."
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
What? A new post?
Short but sweet
Warning to Ms. D. (my therapist, also becoming my newest reader):
1. All (well, most) the names in this thing have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent
2. It will make more sense if you start from the other end and go chronologically
3. Um, I know I spend too much time on the computer but if I start blogging again (now that I've seen all the SVU's) that almost counts as something productive, right?
For my other readers:
Okay, so I've made some efforts toward getting better, but I'm still not medicated. I got a referral from my regular doctor for an appt. w/ a psychiatrist, but it turned out to be a doctor that I have a major conflict with from her treatment of my brother-in-law, (can you say "I lay the blame for Deat's brother's death squarely at her feet?) so I didn't stay for the appointment. Ms. D also gave me referral to another guy, but the appointment isn't until November 20.
BUT, I have done some other things. I joined Curves and man, endorphins are SUCH a RUSH! I feel so much better! I also restarted counseling with Ms. D. I still have a way to go, but I'm feeling much better.
Because of the family-history, my sister still says I need to get started on meds, but I'm not completely convinced. Perhaps it's my mechanical inclinations, but finding the right medication appears to be a trial and error process, and that whole idea gives me the willies. I like A+B to equal C, every single time, not A+B might equal D, or it could be E, or if neither of those work we'll try F... It's particularly unnerving to me when we're talking about putting something in my body with the specific task of influencing my cognitive processes!
So maybe we'll try meds, maybe we won't. More to come...
Warning to Ms. D. (my therapist, also becoming my newest reader):
1. All (well, most) the names in this thing have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent
2. It will make more sense if you start from the other end and go chronologically
3. Um, I know I spend too much time on the computer but if I start blogging again (now that I've seen all the SVU's) that almost counts as something productive, right?
For my other readers:
Okay, so I've made some efforts toward getting better, but I'm still not medicated. I got a referral from my regular doctor for an appt. w/ a psychiatrist, but it turned out to be a doctor that I have a major conflict with from her treatment of my brother-in-law, (can you say "I lay the blame for Deat's brother's death squarely at her feet?) so I didn't stay for the appointment. Ms. D also gave me referral to another guy, but the appointment isn't until November 20.
BUT, I have done some other things. I joined Curves and man, endorphins are SUCH a RUSH! I feel so much better! I also restarted counseling with Ms. D. I still have a way to go, but I'm feeling much better.
Because of the family-history, my sister still says I need to get started on meds, but I'm not completely convinced. Perhaps it's my mechanical inclinations, but finding the right medication appears to be a trial and error process, and that whole idea gives me the willies. I like A+B to equal C, every single time, not A+B might equal D, or it could be E, or if neither of those work we'll try F... It's particularly unnerving to me when we're talking about putting something in my body with the specific task of influencing my cognitive processes!
So maybe we'll try meds, maybe we won't. More to come...
Monday, September 7, 2009
Fessing Up for Additional Accountability
Where have I been? Well, I've been depressed.
I tried everything to fight my way out of it, and sometimes I thought I was winning. I kept telling myself:
And then, the more recent, the best one...
Do I have a right to be depressed? Sure. My husband died a bit over a year and a half ago, and with him every plan I had for my life, and most of the parameters for my decision-making. Sure, I probably should still be a bit lost, a bit depressed.
But it's more than that. I've been battling depression since before he died... actually since before he got sick, since before B.B. was born... since before B.B. was even imagined. Even if Deat had never become sick, that damn "yuck feeling" would still be there running in the background like one of the myriad of processes in the background on my PC... not outwardly visible but sucking the power out just the same. For all my guessing and researching I wasn't recognizing what it was, so I wasn't counteracting it properly.
I like to think I'm a damn good actress. I like to think I hid it well. I like to think very few people suspected. I know there are some very dear friends of mine that I've had fooled (
I did a pretty good job of hiding it from myself for a long time. Yeah, yeah... Denial ain't just a river in Egypt. Shleprock says I'm one of the cheeriest optimists he knows. And I am a cheery optimist... but even the optimism has only gone so far. That sadness, that anxiety just kept coming back.
So this past summer I started giving in to it... I didn't call my friends so much. I spent more and more time alone. "Maybe if I get this one little project on the house done the blues will go away... but I don't feel like working on the project today... I'll play on my computer just a little while longer, THEN I'll tend to the things I've been procrastinating on. Oooops, I've wasted the whole day...time to go get the girls, put on the smile."
I kept thinking if I had set goals and accomplished them, THAT would make me feel better... the only problem was, I couldn't think of anything attainable that I wanted badly enough to work for it. I just haven't "wanted" anything... another symptom in itself.
I stopped fixing my hair, I stopped wearing makeup. It was an effort, an accomplishment, just to get a shower. I stopped answering the phone. I did what I had to do for the girls... but very little beyond that. I had a excuse for any and all of the symptoms. I found a multitude of excuses to stay home even though I had things out there in the world I needed to do. I'd started finding excuses to stay in my room anytime the girls weren't home.
So that's why I went to the Mills this past weekend. I desperately needed someone to "see" it. It had to be someone (in this case, several someones)"safe". Since there's a pretty strong history of depression in my family, I knew they would recognize it and call me on it. And they did.
I listed to my sister all the things I'd (done/been trying to do) to make it better... she answered "Oh, yeah, so how's that workin' for ya?" (Um, it hasn't been?)I've shunned medication for depression for over 5 years now, convinced that I should be able to overcome these feelings without it. (And how's that workin' for ya?)
I started on the road back to L-town with a list of things she told me to do... one of the main ones being find a really thorough mental-health professional to find the best medical and therapeutic treatment for this. As I drove, I started imagining what life would be like without this weight (figurative and physical) slowing my steps. It was a really nice picture... and for the first time in a long time, I have a REAL goal that makes me smile to think of what will come with it.
I'm going to fight this, with real weapons this time, and I am going to feel better.
And then, I really will be able to be the best Kelly I can be. I remember her. Without this weight, I know she's a pretty damn good one.
I tried everything to fight my way out of it, and sometimes I thought I was winning. I kept telling myself:
If I could only get x, y or z accomplished, THEN I'll feel better...
It's just this dang (cloudy, rainy, snowy) weather. A little sunshine and I'll be back to myself
I'm just homesick, a couple days in Ruddles Mills and I'll be fine.
I just need to go to church regularly instead of hit and miss
I just need to lose some weight and quit smoking, then I'll get my confidence back..
I just need to focus on my job and get good at it again...
I'm really a praise hound, I just need some praise from someone...
And then, the more recent, the best one...
If only Deat were here...
Do I have a right to be depressed? Sure. My husband died a bit over a year and a half ago, and with him every plan I had for my life, and most of the parameters for my decision-making. Sure, I probably should still be a bit lost, a bit depressed.
But it's more than that. I've been battling depression since before he died... actually since before he got sick, since before B.B. was born... since before B.B. was even imagined. Even if Deat had never become sick, that damn "yuck feeling" would still be there running in the background like one of the myriad of processes in the background on my PC... not outwardly visible but sucking the power out just the same. For all my guessing and researching I wasn't recognizing what it was, so I wasn't counteracting it properly.
I like to think I'm a damn good actress. I like to think I hid it well. I like to think very few people suspected. I know there are some very dear friends of mine that I've had fooled (
I did a pretty good job of hiding it from myself for a long time. Yeah, yeah... Denial ain't just a river in Egypt. Shleprock says I'm one of the cheeriest optimists he knows. And I am a cheery optimist... but even the optimism has only gone so far. That sadness, that anxiety just kept coming back.
So this past summer I started giving in to it... I didn't call my friends so much. I spent more and more time alone. "Maybe if I get this one little project on the house done the blues will go away... but I don't feel like working on the project today... I'll play on my computer just a little while longer, THEN I'll tend to the things I've been procrastinating on. Oooops, I've wasted the whole day...time to go get the girls, put on the smile."
I kept thinking if I had set goals and accomplished them, THAT would make me feel better... the only problem was, I couldn't think of anything attainable that I wanted badly enough to work for it. I just haven't "wanted" anything... another symptom in itself.
I stopped fixing my hair, I stopped wearing makeup. It was an effort, an accomplishment, just to get a shower. I stopped answering the phone. I did what I had to do for the girls... but very little beyond that. I had a excuse for any and all of the symptoms. I found a multitude of excuses to stay home even though I had things out there in the world I needed to do. I'd started finding excuses to stay in my room anytime the girls weren't home.
So that's why I went to the Mills this past weekend. I desperately needed someone to "see" it. It had to be someone (in this case, several someones)"safe". Since there's a pretty strong history of depression in my family, I knew they would recognize it and call me on it. And they did.
I listed to my sister all the things I'd (done/been trying to do) to make it better... she answered "Oh, yeah, so how's that workin' for ya?" (Um, it hasn't been?)I've shunned medication for depression for over 5 years now, convinced that I should be able to overcome these feelings without it. (And how's that workin' for ya?)
I started on the road back to L-town with a list of things she told me to do... one of the main ones being find a really thorough mental-health professional to find the best medical and therapeutic treatment for this. As I drove, I started imagining what life would be like without this weight (figurative and physical) slowing my steps. It was a really nice picture... and for the first time in a long time, I have a REAL goal that makes me smile to think of what will come with it.
I'm going to fight this, with real weapons this time, and I am going to feel better.
And then, I really will be able to be the best Kelly I can be. I remember her. Without this weight, I know she's a pretty damn good one.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
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