I'm having a tough time tonight. I'm tired. I'm worn down. I've had enough of this lousy, broken world. For the first time in a long time I feel ready for this world to end and the next to begin.
For anyone who doesn't know me, please, please do not think I'm referring to death in any way. I'm talking about the coming of my Christ and King. I am so tired of the pain and suffering and anger and hurt of this world. I long for the perfection He's promised in the next.
When my Jesus comes again there will be no summers spent in and out of the hospital. There will be no children taking 70 weeks of chemo or having heart valves replaced or rods put in their backs to straighten bent spines or being tested for diabetes. The nursing homes will be empty and those vacant stares will be full of life once more. There will be no anger and broken families. There will be peace. There will be love. There will be kindness.
No one will argue about fast food chicken and presidential candidates. Athletes will be held to the same standards as the rest of us. There will be no worry of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. Insurance will be a fleeting memory instead of a battle to be waged. The things we think so important now will be washed away like sandcastles at high tide.
Jesus calmed the wind and waves with a simple, "Peace! Be still." Tonight I need Him to say those words to my heart.
Showing posts with label The Ugly Beast. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Ugly Beast. Show all posts
August 6, 2012
January 27, 2012
Lord, give me patience because if you give me strength I just might beat someone to death.
That's how the past week has been for me. I've been at my whit's end. I told Princess I didn't think I had a rope left to be at the end of. But I'm much better now.
It's amazing what a few decent nights of sleep will do for a girl. Bitsy, for some unknown reason, started sleeping through the night in her own bed. Until now (at 4 1/2 years old) she would still wake up once in the night & try to get in bed with me. This week it seems to have stopped. I'm not holding my breath because we've been through this a few times before, but I'm really hoping it's a permanent change.
QM is here for a visit. She brought HT's toddler bed up for Bitsy. The bed Bitsy's been sleeping in has been passed down through all 3 of the older FarmHands so it's seen better days. Much better days. HT moved up into a big boy bed because, as he told me, he's now grown up (at the ripe age of 5). I'm hoping this new, red, Lightning McQueen bed will help Bitsy stick with her new found ability to sleep soundly.
In other news, I have discovered I'm not a huge fan of online shopping. If I purchase something I want it in hand now. I've ordered a new camera & a USB modem for the new lap top & I've spent all week stalking my orders on line. One item was in Indiana 2 days ago- about 1 1/2 hours drive from my house. The next day it was in southern Kentucky, 3 hours away. QM could have picked it up on her way here. Grrrr. When I asked about it at Walmart today they told me it would be here, "later today or tomorrow." I'm trying not to pull my hair out.
Speaking of hair (nice segue, huh?) I got it cut today. Unfortunately the girl who's been cutting my hair for the last year wasn't at the salon today. I use the term 'salon' loosely as I get my hair cut at Walmart (what can't you do at Walmart?). It's not that it's a bad place, it's just that the turn over rate is insane. Just when I find a stylist I like, she's gone. I have GOT to find a beauty shop I like & can stick with for more than 2 months. My last one shut down her shop to go work at a bank....3 years ago. I fear it's a losing battle.
It's amazing what a few decent nights of sleep will do for a girl. Bitsy, for some unknown reason, started sleeping through the night in her own bed. Until now (at 4 1/2 years old) she would still wake up once in the night & try to get in bed with me. This week it seems to have stopped. I'm not holding my breath because we've been through this a few times before, but I'm really hoping it's a permanent change.
QM is here for a visit. She brought HT's toddler bed up for Bitsy. The bed Bitsy's been sleeping in has been passed down through all 3 of the older FarmHands so it's seen better days. Much better days. HT moved up into a big boy bed because, as he told me, he's now grown up (at the ripe age of 5). I'm hoping this new, red, Lightning McQueen bed will help Bitsy stick with her new found ability to sleep soundly.
In other news, I have discovered I'm not a huge fan of online shopping. If I purchase something I want it in hand now. I've ordered a new camera & a USB modem for the new lap top & I've spent all week stalking my orders on line. One item was in Indiana 2 days ago- about 1 1/2 hours drive from my house. The next day it was in southern Kentucky, 3 hours away. QM could have picked it up on her way here. Grrrr. When I asked about it at Walmart today they told me it would be here, "later today or tomorrow." I'm trying not to pull my hair out.
Speaking of hair (nice segue, huh?) I got it cut today. Unfortunately the girl who's been cutting my hair for the last year wasn't at the salon today. I use the term 'salon' loosely as I get my hair cut at Walmart (what can't you do at Walmart?). It's not that it's a bad place, it's just that the turn over rate is insane. Just when I find a stylist I like, she's gone. I have GOT to find a beauty shop I like & can stick with for more than 2 months. My last one shut down her shop to go work at a bank....3 years ago. I fear it's a losing battle.
January 19, 2012
Irrefutable Proof That Evolution is an Impossibility
My children are still alive.
According to the theory of evolution, creatures will adapt to their surroundings & circumstances over generations. Unfortunately, no one has told the FarmHands this.
The way I see it, self preservation should be the strongest of all evolutionary instincts. My children are completely devoid of it. Not only do they like to do dangerous & irresponsible things day in & day out, but they have also failed to learn to avoid the most dangerous of all nature's living creatures: PMS Mom.
Women have been suffering from PMS since shortly after the Fall of Man (or would have been if Eve had ever had time to menstruate instead of giving birth to the entire population of mankind). All children should have developed an inner alarm that goes off as soon as Mom's hormones begin to fluctuate. My kids have developed one, but it appears to work in reverse.
You see, as soon as PMS rears it's ugly, malformed, malevolent head, my children all lose their ever loving minds. Instead of becoming complacent, calm, and obedient (as any self preservation instinct in good working order would) they go completely bananas. The more overwrought I get, the worse their behavior becomes. The bickering turns to full on fist fights. The volume kicks up to decibels just under those produced at major international air ports. The fun & giggles turns into complete mob mentality hysteria. In short, they all go insane.
And me? I'm left a twitching, blubbering mess on the floor of the shower (think every drug withdraw scene in every movie you've ever seen).
Should my children ever go Stepford on me just as I being the downward spiral into mood swings, night sweats, headaches, fatigue, and cramps, I might rethink my stance on evolution...but for now, I'm still not buying it.
According to the theory of evolution, creatures will adapt to their surroundings & circumstances over generations. Unfortunately, no one has told the FarmHands this.
The way I see it, self preservation should be the strongest of all evolutionary instincts. My children are completely devoid of it. Not only do they like to do dangerous & irresponsible things day in & day out, but they have also failed to learn to avoid the most dangerous of all nature's living creatures: PMS Mom.
Women have been suffering from PMS since shortly after the Fall of Man (or would have been if Eve had ever had time to menstruate instead of giving birth to the entire population of mankind). All children should have developed an inner alarm that goes off as soon as Mom's hormones begin to fluctuate. My kids have developed one, but it appears to work in reverse.
You see, as soon as PMS rears it's ugly, malformed, malevolent head, my children all lose their ever loving minds. Instead of becoming complacent, calm, and obedient (as any self preservation instinct in good working order would) they go completely bananas. The more overwrought I get, the worse their behavior becomes. The bickering turns to full on fist fights. The volume kicks up to decibels just under those produced at major international air ports. The fun & giggles turns into complete mob mentality hysteria. In short, they all go insane.
And me? I'm left a twitching, blubbering mess on the floor of the shower (think every drug withdraw scene in every movie you've ever seen).
Should my children ever go Stepford on me just as I being the downward spiral into mood swings, night sweats, headaches, fatigue, and cramps, I might rethink my stance on evolution...but for now, I'm still not buying it.
January 16, 2012
Someday they'll give me grand kids. Someday they'll give me grand kids.
"I am hoping your silence since then is simply because you've been too busy doing things like going to Church, breaking up Farmhand brawls, and feeding your menagerie, and NOT due to the fact that the 'Hands revolted and committed a cannibalistic act..." -Kork in the comments on the post below
Fear not, Kork. My children have not resorted to cannibalism. Yet. "Everything in this room is eatable, even *I'm* eatable! But that is called 'cannibalism,' my dear children, and is in fact frowned upon in most societies. "
Although I'm beginning to understand why animals eat their young (the title is my new mantra). I understand Martin Luther King Jr. did great things for the civil rights movement in our country, but why must my children stay home from school just because he was born? Couldn't they celebrate his life's achievements better if they were in an integrated school system instead of arguing in my living room?
Today, while cooking corn on the cob for their lunch, my microwave died. Kaput. Nothing. Zilch. It simply ceased to function. Now this appliance is around 2 years old, so I am less than happy. In this day & age, a microwave is a necessary piece of kitchen equipment. I was prepared to hop in the van, head to town and purchase a replacement. There are very few things I can do entirely without. A microwave is one of them. Especially with four perpetually hungry children in my house.
Husband was a bit calmer & said to wait & we could go to town in the morning while the FarmHands were at school to get one. As I was looking on line at what Walmart had to offer, I hear him say, "It's really not a necessity. People got along just fine before microwaves were invented." I answered back, "Yeah, and they got along fine without air conditioning, too, but I'm not trying that." He tried (jokingly, I think) to convince me to wait until our normal trip to town on Friday to get a replacement. As you can imagine, that suggestion was not met with enthusiasm.
So now I am frantically searching for the perfect replacement & hoping I don't have to do this again next year.
Who ever thought of small appliances as disposable deserves to have every one of the tiny beasts in their home catch on fire at the same instant. (Maybe that's going a bit far, but I'm deep in the throws of a wicked bad case of PMS & any kindness I've ever felt toward my fellow humans has been buried under an avalanche of hormones. I'll apologize later.)
Fear not, Kork. My children have not resorted to cannibalism. Yet. "Everything in this room is eatable, even *I'm* eatable! But that is called 'cannibalism,' my dear children, and is in fact frowned upon in most societies. "
Although I'm beginning to understand why animals eat their young (the title is my new mantra). I understand Martin Luther King Jr. did great things for the civil rights movement in our country, but why must my children stay home from school just because he was born? Couldn't they celebrate his life's achievements better if they were in an integrated school system instead of arguing in my living room?
Today, while cooking corn on the cob for their lunch, my microwave died. Kaput. Nothing. Zilch. It simply ceased to function. Now this appliance is around 2 years old, so I am less than happy. In this day & age, a microwave is a necessary piece of kitchen equipment. I was prepared to hop in the van, head to town and purchase a replacement. There are very few things I can do entirely without. A microwave is one of them. Especially with four perpetually hungry children in my house.
Husband was a bit calmer & said to wait & we could go to town in the morning while the FarmHands were at school to get one. As I was looking on line at what Walmart had to offer, I hear him say, "It's really not a necessity. People got along just fine before microwaves were invented." I answered back, "Yeah, and they got along fine without air conditioning, too, but I'm not trying that." He tried (jokingly, I think) to convince me to wait until our normal trip to town on Friday to get a replacement. As you can imagine, that suggestion was not met with enthusiasm.
So now I am frantically searching for the perfect replacement & hoping I don't have to do this again next year.
Who ever thought of small appliances as disposable deserves to have every one of the tiny beasts in their home catch on fire at the same instant. (Maybe that's going a bit far, but I'm deep in the throws of a wicked bad case of PMS & any kindness I've ever felt toward my fellow humans has been buried under an avalanche of hormones. I'll apologize later.)
October 18, 2011
Dearest Readers,
Rage is bubbling up in me once again. I can feel the anger seeping out my pores. It's like a festering boil that I can't help but poke over & over & over again. I am on the verge of smearing it all over my clothing & reveling in the hideousness of it all. I feel the need to shoot something but it's raining & dark & I'm all out of aerosol cans (they're the most rewarding of the scrap metal targets).
Instead, I would really like a bit of a pick me up. Let me rephrase that- I really need someone to yank me up out of this pit of loathing I'm currently holed up in & make me laugh whether I like it or not.
Please, Readers Dear, make me laugh.
October 4, 2011
Introspection
I have very recently discovered in myself the capacity for hate. I'm talking about blinding hatred that makes you wish someone not only dead but burning in hell. I've never felt this before & I do not like it. I've felt anger. I've felt disgust with people. But I have never wished the torments of hell on someone before. Never.
I'm being starkly honest here in a way I am not normally. I vent frustrations here. I get aggravated & rant, but I rarely unleash my inner darkness.
Someone is threatening a person I love. I cannot be more specific than that, so please do not ask.
In the past I've felt serious dislike for people. I've wanted nothing to do with certain individuals. I've wanted people to drop off the face of the earth. But never have I wished the things I wish on this person before. Yes, I know this is completely hypocritical. I know that I blogged about God's grace & forgiveness when Bin Laden was killed. I know that I've preached love for people who hate me. I've written about mercy & kindness quite a few times. But none of that changes what I'm feeling in my gut at this minute.
Part of the issue is that this is deeply personal. Bin Laden didn't touch my life in a daily manner. This person does. I know that doesn't make this right, but at the moment, I'm not going for right. I'm going for honest & raw. God knows I feel this way. He's the only thing that's going to get me through this. There's no point in lying about it & trying to cover it up. He knows my innermost being. He knows when I'm mad enough to stab someone. I might as well lay it out on the table & let Him go to work on me. I'm also hoping that my feeling this horrible turmoil may help someone else who's struggling. I would never want anyone to think that you have to be perfect and think good things all the time to be a Christan. God knows we're flawed. He accepts & loves us as we are. That is the truly amazing thing about grace.
I am struggling. I understand that the damage that I inflict will only be on myself & that my hatred will in no way bind the person it's directed towards.
As I was writing this post, I popped over to Facebook to check out the happenings & this was one of the first things in my feed:
Now, I do not believe in coincidence. I also know I'm light years away from forgiving this individual for the harm they are inflicting, but deep down, I hope & pray that someday the peace that passes understanding will heal this hurt & allow forgiveness to begin. Until then, I can only do my best to try to keep my head above water & not drown in hatred.
August 24, 2011
And I thought fourth grade was bad.
Fifth grade may be the end of me. I think I've grown 7 new gray hairs in the week the FarmHands have been back in school. BabyGirl is, oddly, exceptionally resistant to homework in every form. Her teacher, unfortunately, is not.
Normally, the beginning of the school year is the one time BabyGirl & I are not going head to head over homework. She usually starts the year off on an up swing, excited to be back. This year, not so much.
And for the record I have no problem with her teacher or the amount of homework he assigns. I think most of the work is meant to be done in class, but Miss I-have-issues-with-time-management-and-don't-you-dare-suggest-that-I'm-dawdling-even-when-I've-spent-thirty-minutes-sitting-in-the-toy-box-chewing-on-a-bobby-pin doesn't seem to think she has any hand in the 40 pounds of text books she's lugging home every night. She also doesn't seem to think there's a problem with taking 45 minutes to eat a cup of yogurt before she starts on her homework making it nearly 7 o'clock before she even starts.
She was just asking me about open house at the school tomorrow. She wants to show us something in her class room. I told her it would all depend on how much time we have after she's finished her homework. Her reply was a guttural growl. "I'm sorry, dear, but our lives now revolve around when you get your homework done. It's not any fun for any of us."
This morning I was telling Husband about the past few nights of arguing & fighting. His response: Home school her. Mine: Yeah, that's a great idea. I can't even get her to do 30 minutes worth of homework. How exactly am I supposed to get through a full day of necessary education? Not to mention the fact that my daughter and I are like oil and water. I hate admitting that, but we simply do not get along. I love her with all my heart, but the kid and I, left alone for long intervals with a task to accomplish, are volatile. It's a pretty crappy situation.
Add to that, the chaos that ensues in the rest of the house when I'm trapped in a room with an irate BabyGirl and the other 3 FarmHands are left alone. Eventually she'll get frustrated, start screaming, and stomp off & I'm able to go deal with the other catastrophes that are taking place.
Yeah, I really love this part of my job. Anyone looking for work as a fifth grade tutor? It doesn't pay much (nothing, really) but the work is steady &...um....challenging.
(Note: I'm not really looking for advice here. I just really need to vent...unless of course you have some really groundbreaking advice for me other than "make her do her homework as soon as she gets home" or "give her a break when she gets home & let her unwind" or "send her work to school unfinished if she doesn't get it done to be sure she knows it's her responsibility" because I've tried all in one way or another.)
Normally, the beginning of the school year is the one time BabyGirl & I are not going head to head over homework. She usually starts the year off on an up swing, excited to be back. This year, not so much.
And for the record I have no problem with her teacher or the amount of homework he assigns. I think most of the work is meant to be done in class, but Miss I-have-issues-with-time-management-and-don't-you-dare-suggest-that-I'm-dawdling-even-when-I've-spent-thirty-minutes-sitting-in-the-toy-box-chewing-on-a-bobby-pin doesn't seem to think she has any hand in the 40 pounds of text books she's lugging home every night. She also doesn't seem to think there's a problem with taking 45 minutes to eat a cup of yogurt before she starts on her homework making it nearly 7 o'clock before she even starts.
She was just asking me about open house at the school tomorrow. She wants to show us something in her class room. I told her it would all depend on how much time we have after she's finished her homework. Her reply was a guttural growl. "I'm sorry, dear, but our lives now revolve around when you get your homework done. It's not any fun for any of us."
This morning I was telling Husband about the past few nights of arguing & fighting. His response: Home school her. Mine: Yeah, that's a great idea. I can't even get her to do 30 minutes worth of homework. How exactly am I supposed to get through a full day of necessary education? Not to mention the fact that my daughter and I are like oil and water. I hate admitting that, but we simply do not get along. I love her with all my heart, but the kid and I, left alone for long intervals with a task to accomplish, are volatile. It's a pretty crappy situation.
Add to that, the chaos that ensues in the rest of the house when I'm trapped in a room with an irate BabyGirl and the other 3 FarmHands are left alone. Eventually she'll get frustrated, start screaming, and stomp off & I'm able to go deal with the other catastrophes that are taking place.
Yeah, I really love this part of my job. Anyone looking for work as a fifth grade tutor? It doesn't pay much (nothing, really) but the work is steady &...um....challenging.
(Note: I'm not really looking for advice here. I just really need to vent...unless of course you have some really groundbreaking advice for me other than "make her do her homework as soon as she gets home" or "give her a break when she gets home & let her unwind" or "send her work to school unfinished if she doesn't get it done to be sure she knows it's her responsibility" because I've tried all in one way or another.)
January 7, 2011
Deep Breaths
Bitsy just found a twenty cent piece her dad brought back from a mission trip to Mexico 10 years ago. She asked if she could have it & I said yes. "Thank you pretty much," she replied followed by shouts of, "Me keep dis forever & forever & forever & forever!"
Her favorite magic trick is hiding her hands behind her back & saying, "Hey,wheremyhandsgo?Ta-da!Magic!" all in one breath as she jerks them up in front of her face.
In spite of all the hilarity happening around me, I'm struggling to keep it together tonight. My head hurts. The FarmHands are hell bent on making me nuts. There are tasks that need tackling that I simply do not have the motivation to get to now.
It snowed last night. Just enough to make the side roads slippery & a very sleepy Husband have to crawl out of bed & drive me to town for groceries. The snow kept falling all afternoon but oddly what was on the ground continued to melt. Now it's a cold, slushy, muddy mess which means the FarmHands will be house bound all weekend. This is not a good prospect at the moment.
Maybe a session of Zumba will help. It sure can't hurt. Unless of course I pass out in the floor and the FarmHands are left to fend for themselves until their father gets home from work at odd hours of the morning.
Her favorite magic trick is hiding her hands behind her back & saying, "Hey,wheremyhandsgo?Ta-da!Magic!" all in one breath as she jerks them up in front of her face.
In spite of all the hilarity happening around me, I'm struggling to keep it together tonight. My head hurts. The FarmHands are hell bent on making me nuts. There are tasks that need tackling that I simply do not have the motivation to get to now.
It snowed last night. Just enough to make the side roads slippery & a very sleepy Husband have to crawl out of bed & drive me to town for groceries. The snow kept falling all afternoon but oddly what was on the ground continued to melt. Now it's a cold, slushy, muddy mess which means the FarmHands will be house bound all weekend. This is not a good prospect at the moment.
Maybe a session of Zumba will help. It sure can't hurt. Unless of course I pass out in the floor and the FarmHands are left to fend for themselves until their father gets home from work at odd hours of the morning.
October 28, 2010
Feeling cliche
I'm still here. I may get back to blogging more after this weekend. It's a busy weekend. Thanks for checking in. I appreciate it.
Yesterday was my doctor's appointment. After a long conversation we decided I'd go back on Prozac & see how that works. Adjustments may need to be made. Lab work may need to be done. I need to get out of the house more often & have "mommy time." I'm happy with my new doctor & happy with the start we've made.
I do feel rather cliche being the depressed housewife....
Yesterday was my doctor's appointment. After a long conversation we decided I'd go back on Prozac & see how that works. Adjustments may need to be made. Lab work may need to be done. I need to get out of the house more often & have "mommy time." I'm happy with my new doctor & happy with the start we've made.
I do feel rather cliche being the depressed housewife....
October 18, 2010
Pbth.
I'm angry.
I'm tired.
I'm getting sick.
The ugly beast has reared it's head yet again......in a big way.
I think I may need to take an extended break from blogging until I get a handle on myself & my emotions. There are certain things I don't feel like sharing on line.
I doubt I'll be "gone" long. Please bear with me.
I'm tired.
I'm getting sick.
The ugly beast has reared it's head yet again......in a big way.
I think I may need to take an extended break from blogging until I get a handle on myself & my emotions. There are certain things I don't feel like sharing on line.
I doubt I'll be "gone" long. Please bear with me.
September 20, 2010
Meh.
If you want to read about something other than my current mental state, skip to the post just below this one & read about our painting project. I'm not promising it's interesting, but it is about something other than my mental issues.
The Ugly Beast has reared it's head yet again. No, I'm not delusional enough to think that depression will simply disappear. But it is easy to get lulled into a false sense of security. I've felt pretty decent the past few weeks. There have been a few tough days scattered here & there, but in all, things haven't been too bad.
Keeping busy has helped. I had a jewelry party & that meant some serious house cleaning and a bit of baking. Then we went to TN to visit QM & Daddy. Came home from that to nice weather & the opportunity to be out of doors more than normal.
Then last Thursday came a fabulous surprise: Diana came to see me. She was in TN visiting her family & has to pass my neck of the woods on the way home. She called me a little after lunch to let me know she was passing by. It was so nice to not only have some grown up company, but to have someone here who's known me nearly half my life & loves me anyway. Her arrival helped break up my mid-week cramp/headache/back ache fest and truly brightened my day.
Husband took the day off work Friday so we could belatedly celebrate B.B.'s 6th birthday. Saturday things started to fall apart. I was tired. I was cranky. I was done. And have been since then. Tossing paint (see post below) into the mix hasn't really helped.
I'm not thrilled with this revisit to funk town but part of me feel a bit vindicated because now I know it's not just something I had convinced myself of. Is that odd? I talk myself in & out of things far too easily. I convince myself that nothing is wrong or that something horrific is happening. I feared I had done the same thing with depression...and until I get to talk to the doctor I'm going to see I will probably teeter-totter on this issue more than once.
Until then, I shall play with Tagxedo and wait. And try to keep motivated & moving to stave off this Ugly Beast as much as possible.
August 31, 2010
The countdown begins.
October 27th at 10:30.
Just so you know.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love you all? Well, I do!
Just so you know.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love you all? Well, I do!
Funk Town (it's much less fun than Funky Town)
Over the course of the past few days I've have more than one person concerned with my mental heath ask, "What do you do for yourself?"
Ahhhh....that's the $65,000 question. What does FarmWife do for FarmWife? And the answer? Precious Little.
I do like to sew. I love to read. I like movies- old & new. I enjoy being out of doors (when the heat isn't oppressive, the pollen overwhelming, & the bugs are not eating me alive which has pretty well summed up my entire summer). But to be honest, by the time I get done what must be done to keep things from descending into complete chaos around here, I just don't have it in me to tackle anything else...not even a good book (if and when I can get my hands on one...do not suggest the local library. It's more trouble than it's worth). I get dishes washed, laundry done & put away, something less than nutritious tossed on plates to feed the FarmHands, and I'm ready to crash.
I'm pretty much giving up on Zumba because it's such a hassle to find someone to watch the kids (and I hate asking Uncle E & Aunt C every week) then get them home & in bed at a decent hour. So that knocks my activity levels even further down. I know I need to keep active, I need to do for me, but most days I cannot muster the gumption to do anything not necessary.
That's one of the reasons I knew this was no longer a "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" kind of thing. I'm not even sure I could find my bootstraps right now.
In actuality, I'm doing much better these past 2 days. A Starry Night & NM's wedding helped perk me up a bit....well, not so much the wedding (which was a brutal, horrible mess thanks to BabyGirl having a massive melt down most of the day leading up to the wedding & actually getting from the van to the church & down the aisle) but more the reception. Social interaction helped a great deal & dancing with Bitsy didn't hurt.
Yesterday I tried to hit the ground running & kept busy most of the day. That also helped, but deep down I know that this beast is still lurking just under the calm surface waiting to rear it's ugly head again. Tomorrow I'm hosting a Cookie Lee jewelry party (if you're interested in anything and know me in "real life," give me a buzz...yes, shameless plug amidst my mental issues) and I want the house in tip-top shape so a Pre-Fall cleaning is taking place. I fear that once the excitement is over I am in great danger of crashing again. Hopefully before that I will have an appointment scheduled with a doctor Unkie Di thinks could really help.
Until then, I shall endeavor to keep on keepin' on.
I would also like to thank all of you for your prayers, support, and encouragment over the past few days. You might think it's not a big deal to write a little blurb in my comments, but it is really helping. It's reassuring to know I'm not alone in this. Isolation is a big problem for me being a SAHM who lives in the middle of no where. This blog & Facebook can be my only connections to the outside world somedays. You have no idea how much it means to have people say "I'm thinking of you." Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Ahhhh....that's the $65,000 question. What does FarmWife do for FarmWife? And the answer? Precious Little.
I do like to sew. I love to read. I like movies- old & new. I enjoy being out of doors (when the heat isn't oppressive, the pollen overwhelming, & the bugs are not eating me alive which has pretty well summed up my entire summer). But to be honest, by the time I get done what must be done to keep things from descending into complete chaos around here, I just don't have it in me to tackle anything else...not even a good book (if and when I can get my hands on one...do not suggest the local library. It's more trouble than it's worth). I get dishes washed, laundry done & put away, something less than nutritious tossed on plates to feed the FarmHands, and I'm ready to crash.
I'm pretty much giving up on Zumba because it's such a hassle to find someone to watch the kids (and I hate asking Uncle E & Aunt C every week) then get them home & in bed at a decent hour. So that knocks my activity levels even further down. I know I need to keep active, I need to do for me, but most days I cannot muster the gumption to do anything not necessary.
That's one of the reasons I knew this was no longer a "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" kind of thing. I'm not even sure I could find my bootstraps right now.
In actuality, I'm doing much better these past 2 days. A Starry Night & NM's wedding helped perk me up a bit....well, not so much the wedding (which was a brutal, horrible mess thanks to BabyGirl having a massive melt down most of the day leading up to the wedding & actually getting from the van to the church & down the aisle) but more the reception. Social interaction helped a great deal & dancing with Bitsy didn't hurt.
Yesterday I tried to hit the ground running & kept busy most of the day. That also helped, but deep down I know that this beast is still lurking just under the calm surface waiting to rear it's ugly head again. Tomorrow I'm hosting a Cookie Lee jewelry party (if you're interested in anything and know me in "real life," give me a buzz...yes, shameless plug amidst my mental issues) and I want the house in tip-top shape so a Pre-Fall cleaning is taking place. I fear that once the excitement is over I am in great danger of crashing again. Hopefully before that I will have an appointment scheduled with a doctor Unkie Di thinks could really help.
Until then, I shall endeavor to keep on keepin' on.
I would also like to thank all of you for your prayers, support, and encouragment over the past few days. You might think it's not a big deal to write a little blurb in my comments, but it is really helping. It's reassuring to know I'm not alone in this. Isolation is a big problem for me being a SAHM who lives in the middle of no where. This blog & Facebook can be my only connections to the outside world somedays. You have no idea how much it means to have people say "I'm thinking of you." Thank you, thank you, thank you!
August 27, 2010
Big plans for a small step.
Today may have been the culmination of the past few months of feeling blah. Today I cried...quite a bit. Not one giant sobbing mess, more like a few tears here & a few more there....all day long. I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I'm aggravated. I'm angry. I'm lonely. I'm apathetic. I'm depressed.
Yup. I'm depressed. Really depressed. This goes way beyond just feeling blah. I told Busha today I have three moods: angry, sad, and apathetic. This is no way to live. It's pretty miserable.
I've finally come to the conclusion that it is time to get help. Serious help. Not "chat with your best girlfriend over a bottle of Chablis" help. The kind folks go to school for 7 years before they're allowed to help. Talking to Art & my mom has helped me come to this conclusion. I can't say I've ever really headed down this road before. I was in therapy a total of 2 days before I decide to move to Illinois in the first place. I'm pretty sure Husband doesn't understand any of this. He was raised in an area (and by people) who live by the idea that you do what you must & that's all you need.
I haven't made an appointment yet. Unkie Di works in a field where she comes in contact with many mental health professionals, so I'm going to talk to her about finding a good Psychiatrist.
I'm not sure how I feel about it all. I know this isn't going to be easy. I tend to try to down play my lousy feelings. I make light of hurts. I laugh it off when people comment on hard stuff. How exactly do I go about laying it all out for a total stranger? How do I get past feeling guilty weighing some else down with all my baggage? Can you fail therapy? Guess you have to start it first.
Yup. I'm depressed. Really depressed. This goes way beyond just feeling blah. I told Busha today I have three moods: angry, sad, and apathetic. This is no way to live. It's pretty miserable.
I've finally come to the conclusion that it is time to get help. Serious help. Not "chat with your best girlfriend over a bottle of Chablis" help. The kind folks go to school for 7 years before they're allowed to help. Talking to Art & my mom has helped me come to this conclusion. I can't say I've ever really headed down this road before. I was in therapy a total of 2 days before I decide to move to Illinois in the first place. I'm pretty sure Husband doesn't understand any of this. He was raised in an area (and by people) who live by the idea that you do what you must & that's all you need.
I haven't made an appointment yet. Unkie Di works in a field where she comes in contact with many mental health professionals, so I'm going to talk to her about finding a good Psychiatrist.
I'm not sure how I feel about it all. I know this isn't going to be easy. I tend to try to down play my lousy feelings. I make light of hurts. I laugh it off when people comment on hard stuff. How exactly do I go about laying it all out for a total stranger? How do I get past feeling guilty weighing some else down with all my baggage? Can you fail therapy? Guess you have to start it first.
August 26, 2010
I'm beginning to wonder.....
As you may remember Doc put me on Prozac a year ago last May. Things were great for a while then leveled off to OK, and eventually settled in the land of apathy. That's where they stayed for months so I began weaning myself off the Prozac. I've been off of it for about 4 months now....and things are not pretty.
At first, there was no change. I was the same off the meds as on. Kind of tired (I'm a mom of 4, I expect tired). Kind of cranky every now & then (I'm a mom of 4, I expect cranky). Kind of apathetic.
But lately things seem to be taking a turn for the worse. Fourth grade make-up work should not reduce one to tears and skin crawling tense-ness...especially when one is not in fourth grade. The constant feeling of fingernails on a chalk board I've been living with for the past month is not really pleasant.
After B.B. was born I'm pretty sure I suffered from a slight case of PPD. Since I was still functioning, I didn't think much of it. If you suffer from depression you sleep all the time, right? You quit picking up after your kids, right? You let everything around you fall into total decline while you nap or watch hours of mind numbing television, right? So the act of washing dishes and cooking mean I'm not depressed, right?
When do you give in and say "I need help"? When you become suicidal? I'm not there. I'm no where near there. When you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown? Don't think I'm quite there either. When you cease to function as a parent/member of society? I'm not there.
I'm just....nowhere. Yup. That about sums it up. I'm pretty well Meh all the time. Does that make sense? There is no joie de'vivre. No lust for life. There is just Blah. Piles & piles of blah. Loads & loads of Pbth. Mountains of ugh.
What to do........
At first, there was no change. I was the same off the meds as on. Kind of tired (I'm a mom of 4, I expect tired). Kind of cranky every now & then (I'm a mom of 4, I expect cranky). Kind of apathetic.
But lately things seem to be taking a turn for the worse. Fourth grade make-up work should not reduce one to tears and skin crawling tense-ness...especially when one is not in fourth grade. The constant feeling of fingernails on a chalk board I've been living with for the past month is not really pleasant.
After B.B. was born I'm pretty sure I suffered from a slight case of PPD. Since I was still functioning, I didn't think much of it. If you suffer from depression you sleep all the time, right? You quit picking up after your kids, right? You let everything around you fall into total decline while you nap or watch hours of mind numbing television, right? So the act of washing dishes and cooking mean I'm not depressed, right?
When do you give in and say "I need help"? When you become suicidal? I'm not there. I'm no where near there. When you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown? Don't think I'm quite there either. When you cease to function as a parent/member of society? I'm not there.
I'm just....nowhere. Yup. That about sums it up. I'm pretty well Meh all the time. Does that make sense? There is no joie de'vivre. No lust for life. There is just Blah. Piles & piles of blah. Loads & loads of Pbth. Mountains of ugh.
What to do........
August 20, 2010
Ignore me whilst I moan & bitch.
Sorry, Mama. Sometimes there are no other words to use.
My daughter needs help on her homework...or so she says. When I try to help she gets angry. "You're not helping. You don't know what you're doing. That doesn't make any sense." Yeah, that really makes me want to help in a big, bad way. If her attitude gets any worse right now she'll qualify for an MTV reality show of her very own. She is absolutely lovely at the moment.
My face is broken out worse than it was the last time I was pregnant/nursing. It's just not pretty. No amount of make up will help. I even resorted to the toothpaste as pimple cream last night in desperation. It didn't really help.
Flip flops are verboten in the grade school portion of my kids' school. Because of her SPD, BabyGirl cannot abide "real" shoes. She lives in flip flops all summer if she wears shoes at all. During the school year she wears Crocs with out socks. They must be actual Crocs, not the cheap knock-offs. If you've ever worn the real things you'll know why.
The local medical supply store where we've always bought her Crocs stopped carrying them. No one with in an hour's drive carries them. I cannot pack up all 4 FarmHands and drive an hour & a half to buy a pair of shoes...so I caved in an ordered them on line. I hate doing that because she really needs to try her shoes on prior to purchase. They finally came in today & surprise, surprise, they do not fit. Not even close.
QM is going to try to find her a pair while she's traveling up here tomorrow. I'm ready to pull my hair out over this child's shoe situation.
Babe (the new van) goes into the shop on Monday morning. They've promised me it will be done by Wednesday night. I have to make the above mentioned hour & a half drive with all 4 FarmHands on Thursday. I MUST have my van. Husband MUST have his to drive to work. I'm a bit nervous.
I do not normally over-schedule us but next week is full. I mean FULL. Monday is our snack day for the kindergarten class, so I have to deliver 17 bananas before taking Babe into the shop. B.B. has an eye doctor's appointment Monday at 4 (Busha is going to loan me her old car so I can get him to town while his dad's at work).
Wednesday I have to pick up the van. Thursday,the three oldest kids are having dental work including, but not limited too: fillings, caps, sealants, and one tooth pulled (and there is nothing I love more than dental work on children).
Friday, #1 Son had an eye doctor's appointment because he's got to get new glasses. He has out grown the first pair we bought him (we had the lenses replaced when his vision changed) and the second pair makes his face & ears break out horribly (like bleeding-and-oozing-despite-the-clear-coat-of-nail-polish-I-put-on-them-to-keep-the-nickle-from-touching-his-skin horrible). I'm really hoping they have an all plastic frame that is suitable for a 7 year old boy. I don't want to send him to second grade looking like Ugly Betty.
Saturday is NM & A Starry Night's wedding. I'm really looking forward to it, but fear things could deteriorate before we ever get there. Husband is not the social butterfly I am. The FarmHands are not quite "formal event" broken. I really want to enjoy myself & the day, but just don't see it happening the way I'd like it to.
I'm hormonal and emotional and tired. I'm missing my best friend like crazy. I'm talking wicked-bad-crazy.
I'm sick to death of being yelled at by children who are delusional enough to think that #1 they know better than me and #2 that it's acceptable to yell at me.
I'm tired of the bickering and fighting during the few hours they are home & in the same room.
I hate that my husband has to work 10 & 12 hours a day 5 days a week and 6 hours more on Saturday.
I hate that the kids aren't going to get to see much of their dad during the school year.
I'm so sick of the oppressive heat & humidity that has trapped us indoors this summer.
I'm ready for a hard frost (and I am never ready for cold weather) that will kill off the ticks & chiggers so that if we do get a half way decent day we can get outside.
If you've made it this far, God bless you. I'm pretty sure He's sick of hearing me complain. I know it's all petty. I know that I am blessed. But at this moment it's more comfortable to lay face down in the mud than to roll over and look up at the sky. I need an attitude adjustment just as badly as BabyGirl.
My daughter needs help on her homework...or so she says. When I try to help she gets angry. "You're not helping. You don't know what you're doing. That doesn't make any sense." Yeah, that really makes me want to help in a big, bad way. If her attitude gets any worse right now she'll qualify for an MTV reality show of her very own. She is absolutely lovely at the moment.
My face is broken out worse than it was the last time I was pregnant/nursing. It's just not pretty. No amount of make up will help. I even resorted to the toothpaste as pimple cream last night in desperation. It didn't really help.
Flip flops are verboten in the grade school portion of my kids' school. Because of her SPD, BabyGirl cannot abide "real" shoes. She lives in flip flops all summer if she wears shoes at all. During the school year she wears Crocs with out socks. They must be actual Crocs, not the cheap knock-offs. If you've ever worn the real things you'll know why.
The local medical supply store where we've always bought her Crocs stopped carrying them. No one with in an hour's drive carries them. I cannot pack up all 4 FarmHands and drive an hour & a half to buy a pair of shoes...so I caved in an ordered them on line. I hate doing that because she really needs to try her shoes on prior to purchase. They finally came in today & surprise, surprise, they do not fit. Not even close.
QM is going to try to find her a pair while she's traveling up here tomorrow. I'm ready to pull my hair out over this child's shoe situation.
Babe (the new van) goes into the shop on Monday morning. They've promised me it will be done by Wednesday night. I have to make the above mentioned hour & a half drive with all 4 FarmHands on Thursday. I MUST have my van. Husband MUST have his to drive to work. I'm a bit nervous.
I do not normally over-schedule us but next week is full. I mean FULL. Monday is our snack day for the kindergarten class, so I have to deliver 17 bananas before taking Babe into the shop. B.B. has an eye doctor's appointment Monday at 4 (Busha is going to loan me her old car so I can get him to town while his dad's at work).
Wednesday I have to pick up the van. Thursday,the three oldest kids are having dental work including, but not limited too: fillings, caps, sealants, and one tooth pulled (and there is nothing I love more than dental work on children).
Friday, #1 Son had an eye doctor's appointment because he's got to get new glasses. He has out grown the first pair we bought him (we had the lenses replaced when his vision changed) and the second pair makes his face & ears break out horribly (like bleeding-and-oozing-despite-the-clear-coat-of-nail-polish-I-put-on-them-to-keep-the-nickle-from-touching-his-skin horrible). I'm really hoping they have an all plastic frame that is suitable for a 7 year old boy. I don't want to send him to second grade looking like Ugly Betty.
Saturday is NM & A Starry Night's wedding. I'm really looking forward to it, but fear things could deteriorate before we ever get there. Husband is not the social butterfly I am. The FarmHands are not quite "formal event" broken. I really want to enjoy myself & the day, but just don't see it happening the way I'd like it to.
I'm hormonal and emotional and tired. I'm missing my best friend like crazy. I'm talking wicked-bad-crazy.
I'm sick to death of being yelled at by children who are delusional enough to think that #1 they know better than me and #2 that it's acceptable to yell at me.
I'm tired of the bickering and fighting during the few hours they are home & in the same room.
I hate that my husband has to work 10 & 12 hours a day 5 days a week and 6 hours more on Saturday.
I hate that the kids aren't going to get to see much of their dad during the school year.
I'm so sick of the oppressive heat & humidity that has trapped us indoors this summer.
I'm ready for a hard frost (and I am never ready for cold weather) that will kill off the ticks & chiggers so that if we do get a half way decent day we can get outside.
If you've made it this far, God bless you. I'm pretty sure He's sick of hearing me complain. I know it's all petty. I know that I am blessed. But at this moment it's more comfortable to lay face down in the mud than to roll over and look up at the sky. I need an attitude adjustment just as badly as BabyGirl.
August 9, 2010
Forget breaking up...Growing Up is hard to do.
Yesterday Husband, the FarmHands, and I loaded up and drove three hours to our North to visit with Grandma & Grandpa M&M. We wanted to see them, check out their new digs, and help QM with a few things at the old house as she's getting it ready for the final yard sale on Saturday.
I have not had the opportunity to go up to visit my grandparents at their house in the past year. I saw them in September at my brother's wedding and again a few weeks later when my cousin and his wife lost their baby. One very happy occasion, one anything but happy. I hate that we don't live closer to them. I hate that it's so hard for us to be able to pack up and drive up to see them. I hate that life in general comes between us.
Every time I go a few months without seeing them, I slip back into imagining them as the people they were when Husband and I were first married. I think of them as the couple who walked 2 miles every day. I think of them as the Church Elder and his wife who visited the shut ins and helped out the old ladies of the congregation who's children were to far away or couldn't be bothered. I think of my grandfather in his basement wood shop piddling around with some project or another. I think of my grandmother baking a cobbler early in the morning so the house won't get too hot in the day time. I think of yards of fabric laid out on the dining table as she cuts out a new suit for herself or a romper for a grandbaby. I think of them as busy, able, strong, capable, and fiercely independent.
In my mind, they're the couple who's moved into the assisted living apartments because they want to downsize, not because they're in need of assistance. They're the vibrant couple who visits with the old ladies shuffling down the halls, helping them with their laundry carts and taking them to hair appointments. They rarely eat at the cafeteria, preferring rather to cook their own meals in their postage stamp sized kitchen. They're rarely home because they are in high social demand in their new community.
Unfortunately, that is just not the case. They are old. That's not something I ever wanted to say about them, but there is simply no other way to put it. Inkling and I always used to say, "They're getting old," but "getting" is no longer the case. They're frailer each time I see them. More stooped each time I see them. Less able to get around and do for themselves than they were a few months back. It breaks my heart a little more each time.
I've stated before, and I won't quit saying it while it's still true, I am so very blessed. I have four living grandparents. They are all lucid and (to an extent) able to care for themselves. QM has stated that I collected grandparents as a child. I adopted neighbors, friends from church, cousin's grandparents, pretty much anyone over the age of 50 who wasn't nailed down. They all became my grandparents. I've lost some of them. I've lost many of them, but I've never lost a grandparent I collected simply by being born.
I know that this fact will not last long. I would love for it to be the case until the FarmHands are grown, but I fear that's asking too much.
Once the "old" house is emptied and officially in the hands of the young couple who bought it, and they are good and settled in in their new place, I pray that this move (& the end of the resulting stress) helps them to regain a part of their independence and an even bigger part of their lost heath. I want my grandparents to be mentioned by Willard Scott on their birthdays on The Today Show followed by a snippet like, "And he still eats bacon and eggs for breakfast every morning," or "And she still swims laps three times a week."
I have not had the opportunity to go up to visit my grandparents at their house in the past year. I saw them in September at my brother's wedding and again a few weeks later when my cousin and his wife lost their baby. One very happy occasion, one anything but happy. I hate that we don't live closer to them. I hate that it's so hard for us to be able to pack up and drive up to see them. I hate that life in general comes between us.
Every time I go a few months without seeing them, I slip back into imagining them as the people they were when Husband and I were first married. I think of them as the couple who walked 2 miles every day. I think of them as the Church Elder and his wife who visited the shut ins and helped out the old ladies of the congregation who's children were to far away or couldn't be bothered. I think of my grandfather in his basement wood shop piddling around with some project or another. I think of my grandmother baking a cobbler early in the morning so the house won't get too hot in the day time. I think of yards of fabric laid out on the dining table as she cuts out a new suit for herself or a romper for a grandbaby. I think of them as busy, able, strong, capable, and fiercely independent.
In my mind, they're the couple who's moved into the assisted living apartments because they want to downsize, not because they're in need of assistance. They're the vibrant couple who visits with the old ladies shuffling down the halls, helping them with their laundry carts and taking them to hair appointments. They rarely eat at the cafeteria, preferring rather to cook their own meals in their postage stamp sized kitchen. They're rarely home because they are in high social demand in their new community.
Unfortunately, that is just not the case. They are old. That's not something I ever wanted to say about them, but there is simply no other way to put it. Inkling and I always used to say, "They're getting old," but "getting" is no longer the case. They're frailer each time I see them. More stooped each time I see them. Less able to get around and do for themselves than they were a few months back. It breaks my heart a little more each time.
I've stated before, and I won't quit saying it while it's still true, I am so very blessed. I have four living grandparents. They are all lucid and (to an extent) able to care for themselves. QM has stated that I collected grandparents as a child. I adopted neighbors, friends from church, cousin's grandparents, pretty much anyone over the age of 50 who wasn't nailed down. They all became my grandparents. I've lost some of them. I've lost many of them, but I've never lost a grandparent I collected simply by being born.
I know that this fact will not last long. I would love for it to be the case until the FarmHands are grown, but I fear that's asking too much.
Once the "old" house is emptied and officially in the hands of the young couple who bought it, and they are good and settled in in their new place, I pray that this move (& the end of the resulting stress) helps them to regain a part of their independence and an even bigger part of their lost heath. I want my grandparents to be mentioned by Willard Scott on their birthdays on The Today Show followed by a snippet like, "And he still eats bacon and eggs for breakfast every morning," or "And she still swims laps three times a week."
June 23, 2010
Overwhelmed
I've been reading posts from friends on Facebook. There is so much pain in the world.
Two friends from college have a son with innumerable health issues who has to have surgery tomorrow because he can no longer swallow liquids. The mother of one of BabyGirl's friends fell this weekend, dislocating her elbow & breaking her leg in 3 places resulting in surgery. Bubba's best friend got bad news about his mother. She has terminal cancer & has only been given a few months left to live. A close friend of QM's lost her husband unexpectedly.
On top of that, Ang is dealing with some serious issues with the health of her children. And Inkling may be fighting infection again.
These are days when I'd like to crawl into bed & not face the world. None of these issues affect my day to day life, but they all break my heart.
These are days when I must cling to my Lord. He alone is worthy of my praise. He alone is capable of bringing those I love through their trials.
Two friends from college have a son with innumerable health issues who has to have surgery tomorrow because he can no longer swallow liquids. The mother of one of BabyGirl's friends fell this weekend, dislocating her elbow & breaking her leg in 3 places resulting in surgery. Bubba's best friend got bad news about his mother. She has terminal cancer & has only been given a few months left to live. A close friend of QM's lost her husband unexpectedly.
On top of that, Ang is dealing with some serious issues with the health of her children. And Inkling may be fighting infection again.
These are days when I'd like to crawl into bed & not face the world. None of these issues affect my day to day life, but they all break my heart.
These are days when I must cling to my Lord. He alone is worthy of my praise. He alone is capable of bringing those I love through their trials.
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