Spring Break

Spring Break is coming. For about half of it, the kids are home for doctor's appointments, laundry, etc. Theoretically there is also supposed to be interview for summer jobs... but I'm getting resistance. Living and working at home means "house rules." They get to keep what they earn, but they help out with chores (like laundry, dishes, cleaning their bathroom.)

Apparently, this is terribly unfair.

Whatever.

So, they are both looking for jobs on campus. It could mean that there will again be no kids in the home over the summer, if they go for jobs on campus. Jobs that will pay about 1/2 of what they can get locally. But... jobs on campus are closer to friends. And there's freedom.

I pray a lot that they will trust us more. That they will come to us with their hurts and worries. What they don't know is that I found a "secret" Tumblr account where there are regular tags that say "fuckyoumother" and "fuckoffdad." Over Christmas, someone did an update to their Tumblr on the kitchen computer, and apparently (deliberately?) left the browser history untouched.

I don't mind giving them privacy and room to grow. But I hate being thought to be stupid.

I talked it through with my therapist, who said, "if it's not illegal or harmful, let it go. Chalk it up to something THEY have to work through. Keep loving them."

I'm trying,

But right now, I'm really hurt.

Second verse... same as the first...

The second semester has started. The kids were home and we had a wonderful time. Lots of conversation, lots of laughter, lots of cookie baking and cake decorating...

And they are back out the door.

I was doing better for about a month (between Thanksgiving and Christmas) and actually tapered off my antidepressants.

Now I'm back on them.

The worst part is that the kids don't call or email. Not unless they need something. it's as though once they leave, they leave and they don't realize...

I am trying to balance my work hours and home hours. I'm exercising. I'm using the light box. I'm trying to keep my eyes and heart on God and the ministry.

But I've got to tell you... it fucking hurts.

Depression

It's official. I'm depressed. 

I went to my doctor because it's been long enough that I "should" be better. I "should" not cry at the drop of a hat. My sadness is making people uncomfortable. So I stuff it. I hide in the bathroom and weep and then wash off my tears and go back to being "professional."

Screw you all. And THANK YOU so very much for not having the chops to take care of the Pastor when SHE needs taking care of.

And yes, it appears that in addition to sadness, I have anger boiling inside me, too. Lovely.

Yesterday I had coffee with a friend we've known since the girls were babies. Her youngest went to college for his freshman year last year. I finally had the courage to ask her - "Did you get depressed? Does it get better?"

She said, "First, yes it does get better. And second, yes, I was (and still am) depressed."

And we talked about medications and doctors and perhaps I need to talk to mine about drugs. I made an appointment while we sat in the park, drinking out coffee, while she handed me tissues, and went to see her after lunch. 

Her response was no meds - yet - and to talk to people about my feelings.

I told her that when I talk to people about my feelings, they immediately jump to "FIX IT" mode and don't want to hear how I feel.

She said, "Yes, that's a problem." (YA THINK???)

I see my Spiritual Director next week. We will talk more about this. And maybe I will take some baby steps back to feeling less raw, less edgy, less out of equilibrium.

One can only hope. In the meantime, I guess I will write angry, depressed blog posts and try to find creative outlets.

When I couldn't sleep last night (Oh, hello insomnia, too? LOVELY) I came up with new lyrics to a song from my childhood, "Sound of Silence."

Hello depression, my Old Friend.

I've come to sit with you again.

Because for reasons that I cannot see,

You've decided to move in with me.

And the darkness that fills my soul is real, very real.

Inside our house that's silent.

I have tried to keep with new routines

Because the old ones do not meet our needs

And I find that I am constantly

Searching for a place to find consistency

There is nothing that makes any sense at al, not this fall

Inside our house that's silent.

And the people all just shrug

And say that I must "need" a hug

And they offer simple platitudes

Of ways that I can "make my self" feel good

Their suggestions simply make me feel so sad, very sad

Inside this house that's silent.

So it's off to work I go

Pretending I have an inner glow

For our children who are grown and gone

When I've love to steal back one last dawn

Watch them take their backpacks and head to school, head to school

Not have a house that's silent.

Sung to 'The Sound of Silence"

More damn firsts...

Feel free to skip this post. I need to write it anyway.

Laundry

I did all of our laundry in 3 loads. What.

School started

I didn't need to get up for the bus drop-off or have my phone near by for the "I'm home" text. And going to the store, even the damn PET SUPPLY STORE, had signs for "back-to-school". And there were excited kids and tired parents everywhere. And I wanted to stop the parent and say, "TREASURE THIS!!! One day it goes away and you don't get to take your kids to buy school supplies!"

Groceries

I think this one hit me the hardest.

Last night I went to the grocery store for the first time to do a "real" shop (not just pick up bread and milk and eggs etc). And I realized how much of what I usually buy is because "she likes to make french bread pizzas after school" or "she loves to make nachos."And all that stuff didn't get put in my cart. And there was really nothing I needed to buy other than bread and milk and eggs...

And I got through the check out, to the car and then cried all the way home. Thank God it was dark and I could drive down my street without anyone seeing my tears.

Mealtimes

Did I mention how much I don't like cooking? And now there's only two of us at the table?

Activities

I was the chauffeur (until driver's licenses). But after that, I still kept the master schedule. My life's work means there are plenty of meetings, phone calls and evenings taken up by "life." I fit it around my family's lives, and all was well. A little hectic maybe at times, but we flexed. 

Then I started filling out the activities on my monthly white board... and most days are empty. I discovered that I don't have a life outside of work. And it bothers me. I'm trying not to wallow here, but I don't want to take up pottery making or something, just so I have something to do. That's not the point. I don't know who I am or what I want to do.

Here's the reality, one that brings me to tears... 

There isn't one damn routine in my life that is the same. I'm punching my ticket on this one, but God above, I hate it.

Changing orbits

A Facebook Mama I greatly respect shared how she has had some unexpected changes in her life that hurt more than she thought. She mentioned specifically Sunday evenings, when she and her now-college-girl used to hang out together. It was their bonding time. She was surprised at how much she missed her at a specific time of the day/week.

Commenters responded to her post with all kinds of "FIX IT" suggestions. Some were condescending ("go rent a movie with your spouse") while others were just empathetic. 

Ahem. NOTE TO MY READERS: I do NOT need suggestions on "how to get through this." That is what I am doing, thankyouverymuch. I DO appreciate simple prayers and virtual hugs. Condescending BS I don't need.

As you were...

No, the most helpful comment someone gave her (in my opinion) was when someone posted an essay by Beverly Beckham.  She talked about how she was so emotionally impacted by her children growing up and moving out, and her husband's lack of understanding. "They'll come back" was his response. Yes. But. It is not the same.

Facebook Mama liked this post. And so did I.

I had grappled with how to explain this feeling of world-shifting change in my heart. It was just a ripple with our older daughter 5 years ago. But this year with "the baby" going to college... it was catatrophic emotionally. Which felt really stupid until I read Ms. Beckham's words...

I was the sun and they were the planets. And there was life on those planets, whirling, non stop plans and parties and friends coming and going, and ideas and dreams and the phone ringing and doors slamming. 

And I got to beam down on them. To watch. To glow. 

And then they were gone, one after the other. 

"They'll be back," my husband said. And he was right. They came back. But he was wrong, too, because they came back for intervals -- not for always, not planets anymore, making their predictable orbits, but unpredictable, like shooting stars.

This is the dilemma. Their orbits have changed, their gravitational pull takes them away from us and onto new ventures.

This is as it should be. 

This is also excruciating.

And I am learning to accept both.  

Made me cry...

Beverly,

We've never met... But Lord in heaven above, you know me. 

--------- oo --------

I was the sun, the kids were my planets

By Beverly Beckham | Aug 27, 2006 04:04 AM

I wasn’t wrong about their leaving. My husband kept telling me I was. That it wasn’t the end of the world when first one child, then another , and then the last packed their bags and left for college.

But it was the end of something. “Can you pick me up, Mom?’’ “What’s for dinner?’’ “What do you think?’’

I was the sun and they were the planets. And there was life on those planets, whirling, non stop plans and parties and friends coming and going, and ideas and dreams and the phone ringing and doors slamming.

And I got to beam down on them. To watch. To glow.

And then they were gone, one after the other.

“They’ll be back,’’ my husband said. And he was right. They came back. But he was wrong, too, because they came back for intervals — not for always, not planets anymore, making their predictable orbits, but unpredictable, like shooting stars.

Always is what you miss. Always knowing where they are. At school. At play practice. At a ballgame. At a friend’s. Always looking at the clock mid day and anticipating the door opening, the sigh, the smile, the laugh, the shrug. “How was school?’’ answered for years in too much detail. “And then he said … and then I said to him… .’’ Then hardly answered at all.

Always, knowing his friends.

Her favorite show.

What he had for breakfast.

What she wore to school.

What he thinks.

How she feels.

My friend Beth’s twin girls left for Roger Williams yesterday. They are her fourth and fifth children. She’s been down this road three times before. You’d think it would get easier.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without them,’’ she has said every day for months.

And I have said nothing, because, really, what is there to say?

Horrible Firsts

This was the first Sunday I was back at church since we did the college drop-off. We've done this before with our older daughter... But today... Going to church without number 2 girl was torture.

Quite honestly, if one more person playfully said, "Hey, you empty nesters!" I was going to punch someone. And the rude comments...  whatcha doin' later? wink wink no kids around wink wink

Dude/Lady -- Really. Enough.

No, I went through the motions, prayed, led, greeted and smiled. And we then came home, exhausted. I was numb. My husband went to the hardware store after church because that's what he does when he wants to commune with universe. I sat in the sunshine, listened to the birds and wept.

Sunday evenings was "girl time." We would go for a latte or wander around a bookstore (never buy anything -- just read!) When it was cold, we would bake something and have hot chocolate parties. Or watch a cooking show. Or... sit and knit and talk. 

My husband watched football games (or basketball/baseball/golf) and it was perfect. 

Tonight... no one is home. My husband has a red eye flight to the West Coast for a business trip. The cats are following me around. And I am trying to do something productive... and failing miserably. 

The night is lasting forever.