I should...

It would be nice to wake up feeling something other than a dragging sense of obligation that I *should* do {fill in the blank}.

laundry
cleaning
scrapbook
workout
dinner
kids
pick-up
make plans
catch up

Perhaps the hardest part of the depression and dysthymia is the "I should." It seems like everything is an "I should" and nothing is an "I want to"... The things that "I want" seem nothing more than avoidism that don't really do anything to improve my disposition. Blech.

Thin...

I am trying NOT to get overwhelmed or freak out...but I am feeling pretty dang thin at the moment. Proof is in the blogging; I'm writing instead of doing anything "useful". *sigh*

Okay...so last Thursday, I picked up the kids and we went to a waterpark resort. Arrived, ate, Beloved took them swimming while I got beds made, stuff put away, and jammies out before joining them. The waterpark was fun...and they had a wave pool! *wriggles* Swimming is fine, but I miss the beach and rougher waters! This was a treat for me! We swam until 9:30pm (two hours past the kids' normal bedtime!), got them to bed, and Beloved and I played a couple of rounds of Race for the Galaxy before going to sleep ourselves.

Too bad the dark-out curtains weren't enough to keep Boy asleep past 7am. *sigh* The kids played some Forbidden Island before we were up. After breakfast, we went back to the room and packed everything up and hauled out to the car before going back to the pool for a few more hours (check out was 11am, but our waterpark passes were good until 10pm...how's THAT for annoying?)

We left to find some lunch, wandered the small down a bit, and then descended on LeatherAnhk's family. The kids played and watched a movie while we played bridge and enjoyed dinner. We finally called it quits and got home around 10:30pm.

Saturday morning we were up and out of the house by 9:30am, heading to ChiTaG. We met up with Futhark and his kids as well as Rude13. It was fun...and crowded and a little overwhelming. We did pick up some new games (if you have young kids, check out Peaceable Kingdom...they have a great deal for teachers, especially!). By 3pm, though, I was pretty much done in. Beloved drove home, and Girl and I completely passed out.

Beloved went out with Sunshine that night, leaving me to my book. I ended up staying up very late reading and trying to figure out Puerto Rico online...

...which made me overly grumpy and tired when Boy woke up at 6am Sunday morning, bouncing out of bed and demanding to know what we were going to do TODAY...

oiy.

Beloved saved me. He took the kids to the gym, out to lunch, to a high school play, and THEN let me finish my bath after they got home. I really needed the quiet time! I did some laundry and finished unpacking stuff, finished my book...

*sigh*

Today is more of the same...cleaning, picking up, catching up with mail and bills, keeping up with Girl. I need to run upstairs and collect swimwear for the kids, get dinner started, and go pick up Boy...drop home for 30 minutes to finish dinner, pack it up, and get to the gym for their swim lessons...then we're meeting Beloved there, eating dinner in the cafe, and he's going to yoga while I got to TEAM...

The next couple of days...
Tuesday - meeting with the scrapbook commission job, counseling, pick up Girl at 11, pick up Boy at 4, dinner, grocery shop???

Wednesday - prep food for The Feast, pick up Girl at 11, get dinner started, pick up Boy at 3, dinner at the cafe with Beloved, TEAM.

Thursday - FEAST at my Mimi and Zaddie's house (for the last time, waaaahhhhhh!)

Friday - Hare and Hounds Game & Potluck Lunch

I don't know if there are plans for the weekend...I'd expect a village breakfast, but other than that? I don't know! Am I crazy, or does this pace just seem a little much? Beloved is so energized and excited...but...like I said...I'm feeling thin.

The BDSM Quiz

Futhark was revisiting the BDSM Quiz. It was kind of interesting to see how different his results were. Curious, I retested myself...

Three years ago:
Experimental 96%
Submissive 82%
Switch 68%
Bondage 64%
Exhibitionist / Voyeur 61%
Degradation Lover 50%
Vanilla 43%
Masochist 43%
Dominant 32%
Sadist 29%

Today:
Experimental 96%
Switch 86%
Submissive 85%
Masochist 75%
Bondage 55%
Exhibitionist / Voyeur 50%
Degradation 46%
Vanilla 29%
Dominant 25%
Sadist 21%


Although my masochistic tendencies are a little stronger, I'm still more vanilla than dominant or sadistic. I guess I haven't changed much, eh?

Deep Water

You find yourself falling down
Your hopes in the sky
But you heart like grape gum on the ground
And you try to find yourself
In the abstractions of religion
And the cruelty of everyone else
And you wake up to realize
Your standard of living somehow got stuck on survive
Jewel sings that song, and I am feeling it right now, right down to the bones. Once upon a time...a long time ago...but somehow I got stuck in survival mode. It is simply a matter of cleaning up the chaos, gritting my teeth through the next argument with the kids. What else is there suppose to be? I've forgotten...

You realize your only friends
Has never been yourself or
anybody who cared in the end
That's when everything fades or falls away
'Cause the chains which once held us
are only the chains which we've made
For weeks, I have been arguing on and off with Beloved. It is the trick coin, with one side painted white and the other painted black. We are each looking at the same coin, but what we see is different and irreconcilable. I have not been a friend to myself for a very long time, and I push away those who care. No one can care about me! No one! Not even me! Because if anyone cared...if anyone really cared... I have truly forged my own prison.

We've compromised our pride
And sacrificed out health
We must demand more
Not of each other
But more from ourselves
By consistently giving up on my own desires, wants, even my own needs, I have locked myself into a hopeless, dreamless place. I joke about it, but I have gone days without a shower, refusing to give myself even that little kindness. I beg and cry and scream that it is because there isn't enough time, enough hot water, enough...something. Excuses, accusations, procrastinations. No matter how much Beloved steps in, plays the short-stop... No matter how much I demand, it is never going to be enough, because I am not making the demands of the right person.

I realize this, and I do not know how to change it. I am so frightened by who I am in this moment. A quiet little voice of logic insists it is the bipolar-depression talking. This will pass...it always does...I don't mean that...gods, please...just make it all go away!

There are a number of small communication issues that Beloved and I have stumbled over. His extrovert talk verses my introvert talk. The bipolar talk. Confusing possibilities with absolutes.

One of the things "they" say about talking to a bipolar person: 'individuals with bipolar disorder can experience stress when they have difficulty understanding what is being said to them or what is expected of them.' Is it any wonder that I desperately want someone to just tell me where to go, how to fix it, what to dream?

The trouble is that someone is ME!

I have to do it, fix it, dream it! ME, and no one else. It terrifies me.

House-keeping and triggers

Katie Byron has four questions to ask of any thoughts that cause you suffering. This comes to mind after a hard counseling session.

I laid out my frustrations from the last blog post...that so much had been done and gone well, but I was on a downswing and slipping into negativity. My therapist loved the Swahili example and agreed that the lessons I SEE are indeed the ones I need to work on. The thing that I found interesting was that she did know at least one place that it all stemmed from.

I took on so much responsibility in my childhood. Part of my adaptation was a pick-and-choose because at 8, 9, 14 I couldn't do it all. It was part of accepting my own limitations. It wasn't that there were white-glove tests or strict expectations, but I recalled a bitter fight I had with my mother when I was 12 or 13 years old

She had just come home from the hospital. The house wasn't up to par, but I don't remember what the exact issue was. All I remember was feeling indignant that I was being judged for the state of the house. I screamed at her, "Maybe you should just go back to the hospital where it stinks of clean!"

Sharing this with my therapist, tears started rolling down my cheeks.

Triggers of not being good enough, of my 13-year-old housekeeping skills being judged, of the irrational tie-together of my not being good enough at housekeeping being involved in letting my mother down...in letting her die...

Years later, at the age of 18 when I gave up and moved into Beloved's bedroom, the relative order of my family's house fell apart. There were roaches, moldy food, and neglect. I remember visiting and being filled with despair. I knew then and I know now that I couldn't fix it and I couldn't own it. They had to figure it out, and if they had to do it the hard way...*sigh*

Beloved reached that point a couple of times with my own depression. It was...is so extremely essential that he know he cannot rescue me from it. I have to do it myself, and sometimes...a lot of times...I choose the hard way.

The triggers are complicated, though. My child-self embraces all of the fun; the parties, the cooking, the playing hard. My adult-self shoulders the responsibilities of keeping up with chores, bills, obligations. When the child-self is thwarted by the adult-self, there is a rebellion. I have been doing the housekeeping, childrearing, and adult life since I was 8, 9, 14 years old! No wonder I hit burnout so often.

The problem still comes back to managing expectations, though. My struggle is finding a balance in the chaos. I know all of this is in my head and in my heart. No one else is pointing out the crayon on the wall or the basket of crap that needs to find a home...*I* am the one with that forefront in my mind. So how do I see it, acknowledge it, and not get frozen by it?

I'm not sure. From where I am sitting right now, I can see a number of things that need attention:

clothes on the floor have been folded, but need to go upstairs and be put away
Girl left her lunch box on the coffee table and that needs to be cleaned up
the plants need water
the chairs need to be recovered now that the covers have been washed
my library books should go upstairs
minor MINOR pick-up of a few toys scattered around (seriously, 6 things!)
table cloth on the pool table needs to be washed
basket of non-perishables needs to go to the food bank
basket of miscellaneous trash from the attic goes out
electrical cords need to be returned to the garage

LOOK AT THAT LIST! I can knock it all out in an hour. But so much of it has just sat for days, nagging me and accusing me of laziness, of failure. It collects, grows, multiplies until I am crippled by it. And just as I think, "Okay, I can do this!", I get interrupted by something or someone. My attention wanders, and the task goes undone...

Round and round and round...

Is it true? I think there is a key here. It is true that there are regular chores that come with living in a household with other people. It is true that being the home adult, my job is to oversee most of it...but to OVERSEE it, not DO it.

Can I know it is absolutely true? I have talked with Beloved about expectations, and yes, I do need to pull my weight and help guide the kids in their own contributions. No, I do not need to do it ALL all by myself.

How do you react, what happens, when you believe that thought? I get overwhelmed, angry, resentful by the never-ending job list when I try to handle it on my own. I rebel by leaving it undone, hiding, and allowing distractions to rule my life.

Who would you be without the thought? This is where my therapist left me...or our time ran out. Who am I if I can accept the limitations? If I don't own it ALL, but I make the contributions to the team, is that enough?

I am going to try to recognize the things that nag me and freeze me. I'm also going to try to document the activities and distractions. Maybe there is a pattern to what triggers me.

Damn you service, and damn me too.

Hoggle, What Have You Done?Sarah: [after eating the peach] Hoggle, what've you done?
Hoggle: [leaves in fear] Oh, damn you, Jareth. And damn me, too.
I was once called a quintessential service submissive. My heart burns with the desire to serve. Once I fulfilled this through advocacy for students, for the environment, for uninsured folks. I put long hours toward improving the status quo and I had confidence that I made a difference in the world.

I became a mother, and my service became inextricably to the house and to the children. I have often received praise for the warmth and welcome of our home. People compliment the gardens, the festive decor, the comfortable lived-in space. The children are successful in school and congenial with company. They are smart, curious, empathetic, and well on their way towards self-sufficient. I have done my job well.

Why then has my own confidence faded? Why, when I am asked what I like, do I falter? Why do I turn praise aside, citing crayon marks behind the couch or a cluttered desk in the bedroom as proof of my failure? Why do I deride my abilities to make a difference?

Even more troubling, why do I allow inertia to reign? So much of my service in the last couple of years has been feast-or-famine. I plunge my whole being into cleaning, planting, changing, hosting, and utterly exhaust myself. I crash and trash what I hold most dear, depriving myself of pride and confidence in what I achieved. Things slip out of control, pile up, and become depressive.

I spent the last two weeks in high service. Three parties were hosted, the holiday decor was changed twice, the attic partially organized. I scheduled more events, made plans, bought tickets. I went out with Beloved, went out with the kids, went out with friends. It was an amazing two weeks of success after success.

And yet, now I am on the downswing. I am crippled by the overturned garbage, the desperately dry plants, the pile of laundry (both clean and dirty). Beloved wants to know if I want to go to out in three days, and I want to cringe.

I *want* to meet the challenges, but I am so tired. No matter how much I do, I don't feel like I have done "good enough" because there is always more that I could, should do.

So many years ago, Sir told me just how easy it was to break me. The order to "keep count on each cheek while singing the National Anthem in Swahili" is simply impossible; I don't know Swahili. I could learn it, though.

Damn it! The point isn't to learn the language! The point is to accept my own limitations! I am not perfect! No one expects me to be perfect! Except for me. I expect me to be perfect.

I look around myself and am confronted with all the coulds and shoulds and I ask myself why I am writing instead of serving. Right now, I want to cry.

Growls and snarls

I'm very glad Beloved took the kids away today...I'm grouchy. *sigh* Just little unpleasant tasks that seem to be piling up. An animal got into the trash can. Girl peed the bed. I found a cashe of moldy apple cores hidden by Boy. ugh.

Just not the way I'd hoped to start, ya know?

A breath

There are two pots of soup sitting on the stove, four loaves of whole wheat bread and a basket of yeast-rolls sitting on the counter, twelve quarts of pumpkin soup and chili await on the breakfast bar, and a veggie tray is in the fridge. Food is ready for the soup swap! A little bit of pick-up, a few light bulbs to change, and I desperately need a shower... two hours before people arrive. I think this is going to be a great evening!

Daylight savings ends tomorrow. I don't know if this is a good thing or not. Sure, it will mean the sun will be rising when we are, but I dread the dark afternoons. Weather aside, the dark heralds the arrival of winter.

I am still wishing that the two hours Girl was at school stretched more, but compared to the last two weeks, the coming week promises to be a little slower. I have a number of little projects that I am looking forward to working on. Some painting, a book I'd like from the library, posting some items on CL for sale. Naturally, there's more yardwork that needs attention.

At the moment, I am tired but very content. I wish I could stay here...

Christian Rock

I don't consider myself religious or even particularly Christian. I was raised Roman Catholic, but too many scolding by nuns and priests tarnished my faith in the Church. I have struck my own beliefs and agreements with God-The Universe-Someone Upstairs, and we are good with that.

Every once in a while, though, I get the urge to turn on the Christian Rock station. Part of me just likes the songs because I can actually HEAR the lyrics...they have a message and they are very careful to make sure it isn't dimmed by the music. Part of me just likes the message. Not the "Oh God, I love You so" stuff as much as the ones that speak of grace and submission and strength.

Tonight, two songs caught my ear, each for different reasons.




Earlier in the day, he messaged me in response to a comment I'd left on Fet.

I wish I wish I wish
I don't understand depression. I wish I knew how to help. Help you, help our friends, etc
It's really hard...
anyhow, I love you

Through the years that we have been together, he as stayed...and fought!...to stay with me. The dark depressions, the daily battles with dysthymia, the insane highs and the spectacular crashes...he has stayed through it all. There isn't a day that I am not grateful! Even in the worst moments, I trust him.

I liked this song, but at the same time, I am frustrated by it. It isn't Beloved's job to LEAD me. We tried the D/s, and it just wasn't a good fit. I consider my feelings about God and it is very similar. I am not one to be LED.

I do, however, need support, encouragement, and occasionally a brace. Like a pole in a tipi, we lean against each other and are strong. Together, we can weather the storms and find shelter.

There are plenty of days that I do lean heavily on him, though. I played this for Beloved, and we both had tears in our eyes. I know that I have responsibility for my own life, my own happiness...and yet...I need him. I have faith because he has taught me to believe. Always and forever.


The second song I found looking for the first one.



"Those damaged goods you see in your reflection, Love sees them differently; Love sees perfection...You're not the worthless they made you feel...And you don't have to stay the broken girl."

I know this...have known it for years and years. A few years ago I wrote a story titled The Journey Down. It's a brutal whipping scene that ends with

I know this exchange will not end here, that the strips on my back will last for the next week, the scars for longer. It is the map of my journey, of my acceptance, of my release. I am free at last.

*sigh* How many tears does it take? Am I choosing to stay broken? Am I broken for reasons other than...deeper than? It's very confusing to me, just want do I need to forgive, and whom.

Just keep at it...every step, every day. Breathe and trust. Have faith.

Never stop running...

It's been a crazy busy week-and-a-half...and I'm still not done!

• Boy's birthday was October 25th. My dad and his wife came out for dinner, and then we had the village join us for cupcakes and a round of "Happy Birthday". Sunshine and her mom and HBY-n-SSQ all brought really neat, thoughtful gifts. The Boy has been enamoured with the Hex Bugs and Beloved has been puzzling over the Perplexus. It was a really nice evening.
• Friday night was spent at school for the Fall Follies. Girl was too shy to go up on stage, but Boy did a great job with his songs. There was a wonderful potluck spread and then a candle-lit walk through the woods to see the scarecrows that the students had put together. It was actually really well done!
• Saturday was the kids' birthday party, and Beloved was AWESOME! He really pulled the whole thing together, even including an actual plot of having the kids defeat Bizarro after he led them into a trap. Beloved also took photos of the kids when they arrived and presented them with Official ID cards, having completed "Avengers Academy." I am awed by his abilities!
• Sunday saw us hanging out with Beloved's oldest friend at a family Halloween party. We claimed the card table in the basement after the football game was over and played Bridge for a couple of hours! It was fantastic! We stayed until the very end, cheerfully denying Ma the bulk of clean-up.
• Monday night I went out on a date with Phoenix. Dinner, dessert, and walk, but it was a lot of fun and lots of laughter. Schedules being what they are, I don't know when we will get a chance to meet up again, though.
• Wednesday was Halloween, of course. At 3 o'clock, Beloved and I didn't have costumes planned, but we have a great costume box! By 4 o'clock, we had a Gauntlet foursome heading out for trick-or-treating. We met up with Sunshine and wandered the neighborhood. At 6 o'clock, we headed to the local university for a Howl-o-ween concert, organized by DarkOpera. It was a fantastic show that actually held the kids' attention for the whole presentation. After dinner and getting the kids to bed, Sunshine, DarkOpera, Beloved and I sat at the dining room table, drank a bottle of Hallowine, and bantered until midnight.
• Today I had tea with Tamin and I have spent the afternoon taking down Halloween decor. I have a smaller collection of Thanksgiving and harvest decorations to put up, and I am hoping the kids will help with the window clings.
• Soup Swap is on Saturday. While my roasted pumpkin soup is made, it still needs to be jarred, and Beloved has plans for making chili...at some point between now and the event. I think we have 15+ people coming, and I'm excited about the enthusiasm for the idea. We're also collecting canned goods for the local food drive.

So...yeah. Run, run, run. It is a good thing, but oh golly am I wondering if there is any downtime in the future...