It's Hard to Wind Down When I've Been Going Nonstop All Day, Okay? Geez!

I just checked my blog stats and nearly fell off the bed when I saw there were only two hits today. I even double checked. Only TWO? What happened!

And then I realized it's 12:44 AY-EM and I really should just go to bed.

Me and my insecurities. I tell you. I mean, I was practically hyperventilating because it's been ages since I've been down in the teens, much less single digits, and here it's just because today started less than an hour ago.

And don't even get me STARTED on the number of blogs I "need" to catch up on reading, cuz I've been crazy busy today. Which is just silly, because those bloggers will survive if I'm a few days delayed in reading their posts, whether brilliant or mundane. Even though I know they sit for hours at their keyboards, tapping the keys anxiously in their desperate wait for a TeacherMommy comment to pop up. (HA!)

OH! And I still haven't replied to bushmanbill's Direct Message via Twitter! Ack! If you're reading this, hon, I'm doing mostly okay and so are the kids. More details later.

Maybe it will be good for me to get away for a few days, somewhere I can't hover by my computer. I think I may be on the verge of running silicone through my veins rather than blood.

Wish me luck (or pray) on our trip tomorrow. It's normally a six-hour drive, but with two kidlets we'll be tacking on a few hours. Sigh.

Since I need to be up in five hours, I need to get OFF THE COMPUTER. Even if it is the first chance I've had to really be on here all day. Peace and sweet dreams!

I Only Took a Little Break to Come Online, Okay? I Swear I'll Tackle the Piles of Clothes in a Minute!

I know it's been like, two days since I posted and all, but oh lordy. I just don't have the time or energy in all this humid heat (I'm such a wuss these years) to write anything deep and/or witty. At least in reality: you should SEE what I've composed in my head during all the car trips! And this means that I'll be composing even more on Wednesday when I travel up to the Upper Peninsula with the boys in tow--including my bro, who will help keep the kidlets (and therefore me) sane. Perhaps I'll pull out my computer and type some things up while my brother drives. We'll see. Maybe if the kidlets fall asleep.

In the meantime, I'm scrambling to clean house, especially since renters will be moving in this month and I never fully moved all my stuff out of that room, and maybe (or maybe not--stupid credit) I'll be moving back up to that suburb sometime soonish if we can rent a one-bedroom apartment (more on that later), and I have meetings and appointments crammed in tonight and tomorrow. Oh, and I should probably pack at some point.

So remind me to tell you about the following when I have a chance:
My visit back to my childhood church this last Sunday morning (oh the angst! and then not)
My children and their delightful conversations with each other (90% DramaBoy, 10% Widget)
My overwhelming hatred of paying bills and cleaning house which makes me yearn to win the lottery so that I have no more debt and can hire a full-time maid (oh, well that's about it on that one, especially since I haven't bought any tickets lately, so no post needed)

And depending on how it goes, maybe I'll fill you in on the trip up to the UP, too. We'll see.

So, I'll write you when I can...Loves and cuddles 'til then!

Maybe I Should Mention He's Not Normally This Bloodthirsty

(The following conversation took place this afternoon after DramaBoy had some fun playing some sort of spaceship/flying/shooting computer game his daddy has, one that uses a fancy new joystick that takes up more desk space than a keyboard. DramaBoy is already quite good at the game. His daddy says he's destined to be a pilot.

It should be noted that this is only the first part of the conversation, the part I can still remember. It went on for about five minutes, with many gesticulations and facial expressions on DramaBoy's part and only the occasional interjection on mine. Have I mentioned he's quite verbal?)

***************************

Mama! he said with a huge grin, I killed all the bad guys!

Good job! I said, and shook his hand.

I killed them all dead because I crashed into a big rock and then the volcano blew up and it got all the bad guys. It was a big volcano in space and it blew up and it hurted the bad guys on the forehead and the ear and the ear and the nose and the neck and the arm and the arm and the knee and the knee and all over the body. Betuz when a volcano blows up it puts out lots of fire and fire hurts the whole body. But it didn't blow up me and my rocket ship betuz Daddy pulled it up.

I see, I said.

And sometimes there are big rocks in space, but there aren't any rocks on Jupiter!

No? I replied. What's on Jupiter?

Oh, Jupiter is full of woooonderful things! he said, his eyes wide.

And so are you, DramaBoy. So are you.

So He Thinks He Can Dance

As much as my boys can drive me scrabbling with my broken and bleeding fingernails at the edge of sanity, they also have the ability to make me laugh like no one else. Even on days like today, when my anxiety and stress levels are ratcheted up to Save Me, Superman! and I keep reciting Psalm 23 over and over like a frantic mantra.

In fact, it's perfect timing for a good giggle attack. Like when DramaBoy and I realize that our view of Phineas and Ferb is being obstructed by The Widget wearing a great big Fulani hat while he does a little shimmy in front of the TV.

You'd think he was trying to cheer me up or something.

Life on Overload

One of the hardest parts for me about depression and grieving--at least in terms of dealing with the World Out There and loved ones--is the sensitivity to everything. I can't speak for other people, but I know that when I'm sitting on the Dark Side of life, I become hypersensitive to every nuance, every word, every action. And not in a good way.

I snap in anger at the slightest provocation--not to even mention the actual button-pushing that comes from, oh, say, two small boys whose worlds have been turned upside down. I suspect dark motives behind each negligent word. If friends and family don't answer when I call or take a long time to respond to a message or email, I think they're avoiding me. If someone doesn't beg me to join them in some event or activity, or doesn't seem overjoyed to see me, I think it means they don't want me.

Intellectually I know this isn't the case. People are busy or out of town. They don't mean something the way I take it. They're being normal in their reaction or reception of me. Intellectually I know that I am loved and that there are many people (not all: I'm not naive) who like to have me around, even actively want me around.

I just struggle to feel it.

For example, today I wrote a comment on a dear friend's post disagreeing with what she had said about a recent hot topic. I wasn't the only one, nor the first, and I think I did so with respect and without attacking her personally. And yet, when I hit Submit, it was all I could do not to have a mini panic attack. Ever since, I've been more than half-convinced that by disagreeing with her I must have offended her and now she won't want to be my friend. I know she's NOT a petty person, nor easily offended, and yet I cannot rid myself of that feeling of doom.

My therapist says this is normal for what I'm going through. I'm feeling grief and anger and rejection, and I'm so overloaded already that the slightest possibility of more sends me over the edge.

So I'm making some choices. I'm going back on Zoloft. Now is not the time to be all chemically independent. I'm going to try to get more exercise into my schedule, because that's disappeared. I'm going to try to eat more healthily and drink more water. And even though I have the urge to write my own post about the current hot topic, I'm going to hold off until I'm a little more balanced.

And I'm going to try, very hard, to just breathe.

UPDATE: I made another choice to stop stewing and actually ask my dear friend about my comment on her post. As I knew (intellectually) she would, she told me (in gentler, much more loving words) to stop being a blooming idiot. I'm going to go put my head under a rock or two and try to take her advice.

It's the Hardest One to Answer

Tonight he finally asked the question I'd been dreading.

He's asked If and Will you be before. But not this.

Tonight, after picking up the boys from daycare (after six days of absence) and driving them down to Detroit, DramaBoy suddenly asked me, Why are you and Daddy not together?

I've thought about this question, even though I would rather not. I've wondered what to say to a not-quite-four-year-old about this. How does one answer such a question without lying? Without talking way over his head? Without giving him unnecessary information? Without making him see either parent in a bad light? Without avoiding an answer at all?

And there it was, and there he was, and there I was, and it was time to figure it out. No more wondering. No more rehearsing. No more pre-show jitters. The spotlight's on full and the audience is waiting. Cue line.

Well, I said. I paused. Well, Mommy and Daddy had a lot of problems.

And accidents? he asked.

Well, no, not really accidents. Problems. We made some very bad choices.

Why? he asked. Why indeed? I ask myself that all the time.

We were not doing what was right and we were stupid and we made some very bad choices. And Mommy and Daddy hurt each others' hearts very badly.

Sometimes I make bad choices and I hurt my heart, he said. But I don't hurt my heart as bad as you and Daddy did.

That's right. We hurt each others' hearts so bad that even though we are sorry, there was too much hurt already. And, well, sometimes when that happens, when they're so hurt in the heart like that, Mommies and Daddies can't be together anymore.

There was a short silence.

Can I watch TV when I get home? he asked.

Yes, but only if you give me lots of cuddles, I said.

Okay. I will give you cuddles! he said, and there was a touch of joy in his voice.

I wish that would always be enough.

A Letter to my Readers

Dear Faithful Readers,

In case you couldn't tell from my last few posts, I've been stuck in serious mode lately. Part of this is the lack of kidlets in my immediate vicinity (I haven't seen them in a week now) because having them around drives me crazy and funny at the same time. I think they're linked--I believe finding the humor in being a parent is sheer self-defense.

So with no kidlets around for almost seven days now I've instead been plunged into my own head, facing my hope and my sorrow, my dreams and my fears. When I am struggling with emotion, poetry is my refuge, which is why there's been a good bit of that lately.

I've made it a sort of unofficial policy of mine not to air too much dirty laundry on this blog. There are two reasons for this. First, I'm not the only one involved. I don't want to delve too deeply into other people's stories without their express permission. I happen to know that He Who Was would rather I didn't mention our divorce at all: I'm compromising by not going too deeply into details, particularly where he is directly involved. And there are details that other family members don't know and, really, don't need to know. There is such a thing as being too transparent.

Second, while I am technically anonymous on this blog, it wouldn't take too much for people in my workplace to find me and know immediately that it is me. I mean, there's my picture up there. And they've seen me with pink hair because I did that look for an '80s Day at school this last year. I'm probably all over MySpace and Facebook in my pink hair, eyeliner, and punk clothes, considering the number of cell phone cameras whipped out that day. And let's face it, there's a certain amount of danger in airing personal information on the Internet, particularly when you're in a position of some sensitivity, like an educator.

I'm still learning the balance. I've lived most of my life being too secretive, keeping people at arm's length as far as the Real Me was concerned. I now am trying to live a life of honesty and transparency, but in some ways I tend to go too far in the opposite direction. Amazingly, I now find such freedom and exhilaration in telling people the truth that I have to watch my tongue. There have probably already been cases of people pulling away, wondering who this crazy lady is who shares all these personal details with everyone.

I guess I feel like I don't have a lot to lose, and there's so much to gain.

However, not everyone needs to know everything, and so I'm learning the balance. If you have questions, please ask them--and enable your email in your profile!!!!--and I am happy to share specifics in personal emails. Just ask Arby about that. ;) And if you think I might be going a little too transparent and overstepping boundaries, please give me the heads up. Sometimes that's hard to see from where I am.

I'm relieved to see that my recent string of serious, if not downright depressing, posts has not (as far as I can tell) lost me readers. I will be picking up my precious boys this afternoon (oh how I miss those cuddles and kisses!), so you may be getting more Adventures of DramaBoy and The Widget coming your way to alleviate the darkness!

In the meantime...thank you for reading. And thank you, as always, for your comments and love and support. My online support system has been incredible, and I'm very grateful for you all.

Yours, as always,

TeacherMommy

and in this time

and in this time
of loss and sorrow
as i walk through this valley

teach me to turn to You
to rest in Your arms
to trust in Your love

the love that never fails
never dies when i cause You pain
never fades with time

teach me to stand in Your light
rather than seeking the darkness
rather than hiding in the shadows

remind me that You took my shame
upon Your own shoulders
and suffered my pain as Your own

that i may walk free and clear
with new life and new hope
in the light of Your loving gaze

and in this time
teach me to hope anew
that i may be more one day

than i ever dreamed to be

sometimes it's worse

sometimes it's worse
to hope in the first place
it hurts more
when reality proves
otherwise

the Book says
faith, hope, love
are the centers of life
but the greatest of these
is love
and without it
the others are in vain

and there's the rub
the missing piece
that tears my hope to shreds

when pain has killed the love
or at least
buried it so deep
that mountains would have to be moved
before one could even start digging

then hope
has no room to grow

I May Feel Like a Zombie, but at Least I'm a Well-Loved Zombie

You know what?

I'm tired.

Just plain old tired, both in the physical and mental way. I could sit here and try to come up with some clever and gorgeously written post on my long weekend in Chicago and all the people I met and learning about how to hold real conversations instead of just trading monologues and hanging out with some awesome twenty-somethings who let me pretend I'm not well on my way into the next decade and dancing to live Egyptian music and staying up late sharing life stories and all that sort of exhausting social stuff.

But I'm not. Maybe later.

Right now I'm physically drained from staying up late so much and walking a lot and the long trip home (which didn't end until 2:30 ay-em, peoples) and the energy it takes to interact with so many strangers. Even if many of them aren't strangers any more.

Right now I'm emotionally drained from having (again) interacted with so many strangers in a non introvert-in-her-shell sort of way, and from having been away from my kidlets for so long with two days to go, and from many bouts of tears as I shared my story and heard others', and from coming back into the reality of my uncertain life.

I do come back, however, with the comforting knowledge that I am not alone in my uncertainty and sense of being in limbo. I am not alone in my struggles and my desire to understand what God wants from and for me in this time. I am not alone, for God continues to bless me with gifts of love and support and friendship, every way I turn.

So thank you, friends and loved ones, old and new. I love you too.