It’s a New Year…

So, I thought I’d take a minute and talk about my plans for 2017, try to get a little more positivity and planning in my blog. everyday

First, I want y’all to know that I plan to blog more often. 2016 was rough, and the depression kept me questioning whether or not I should post most of the things on my mind. Actually, I’m planning to do more writing in general. I miss writing. I’ve always loved it, even more than reading as I get to do with the characters as I want to.

Next, I plan to be more active physically. I say this every year and it fails, but I’m hopeful that I have a friend who will ride bikes with me this year and help keep me on track. If I could find someone who will walk with me around town that will be extremely helpful as well, although even I’m not gonna do it in the middle of winter. Way too accident prone for that idea.

(Although, as soon as we have enough snow I fully plan to ambush my cousins in a snowball fight.)

Third, I want to work on my relationships this year. With God, with family, with friends, with anyone that I love. This last year I’ve been distant with pretty much everyone, and a big part of that has been the depression and anxiety.

I would say fourth, but I think this ties in with my relationships too much – try to find a way to get the depression and anxiety under control. I’m tired of it keeping me from doing things that I want to do and things the hubby wants to do. We had so many things planned in 2016, and when it came down to it either I couldn’t do it because of my issues or hubby was also having to back out of arrangements because I needed him.

Last I think is trying to be more thankful. I’m always worried that those around me aren’t aware of just how much I appreciate and love them, especially my “inner circle”, but if it wasn’t for these people that God has put in my life I can’t help but to think that my world would shatter sometimes. So to all of you – thank you.

Let’s try to make 2017 a better year,  a happier year.

(PS – There will be a lot more looming as well!!!! I have plans y’all. )

 

Insert expletive.

I’m a Christian. As a Christian, I try to be very careful of the words I use. My friends tease me because of how many times they hear statements such as “You stupid fluffing piece of crap” <— in reference to my Jeep.

However in this case I can’t think of any other word except a curse to get my point across. Depression is a BITCH. This entire last year feels like it has been one continual round after another struggling to keep my head above water as far as the depression goes.

Someone asked me what I have to be depressed about. That question in and of itself shows me how little so many people still understand about depression. It’s not being sad. It’s not so much an emotion as it is a constant emotional upheaval.

It’s faking your way through each and every day and praying no one sees through your mask. It’s feeling worthless and crying when no one is around to see or try to comfort you because there is no comfort so why bother seeking it.

It’s never being good enough, no matter how many times you’re told you are.

It’s seeing yourself as continually disheveled and ugly no matter how much effort you put into how you look that day.

For me, it’s clinging so desperately to God that you’re actually afraid one day He’ll say enoughs enough and even He will be tired of you.

I am deeply and sincerely praying that in 2017, I have a few more good rounds than bad. I am praying I wake up from good dreams instead of ones of my parents saying how much they despise me. I am praying I can look in the mirror and say I am worth something and actually believe it.

Being the childless friend…

It’s hard. I’m not gonna lie. There are days I just don’t want to go around any of my friends who have kids, because I never know is this a day where I’m going to simply enjoy my friends and loving on the kids… Or will this be one of those days where I paste on a smile and when I get home I cry myself hoarse? It’s an emotional teeter totter, and honestly I never know which way my emotions are going to swing.

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I’ve backed off of how much I visit some of my friends because of that, which has hurt their feelings, but it makes more sense than being like “Well it hurts my feelings that you have what I don’t!” Because that’s dumb. It’s just dumb, and I know for a fact I shouldn’t be upset because they have babies. They adore their babies, and of course I would never actually say such a thing… but it doesn’t stop looking at those sweet faces from hurting. And it certainly doesn’t stop me from comparing how close in age our children would have been. The thought that while we sit back and chat that there should be two little ones romping around the floor, not just one.

That’s the most extreme “problem” with being “that” friend. There’s little problems too that leave me feeling frustrated and embarrassed at the same time.

If one of my friends asks me to diaper their child, I have no problem doing so, but… there’s always these teasing little comments about the speed at which I can do it. I’m sorry that I don’t have baby dolls at home that I practice on just for the odd happenstance that you might need me to diaper your kid’s butt. I will gladly do it for you, it doesn’t bother me, but feeling like I’m being judged and found lacking because I don’t have experience… that does bother me.

I suppose I could practice on the husband, but I doubt he would be very amused with the idea.

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You wanna do what now?

I’m afraid one of these days my filter’s not going to engage and someone’s going to get a snappy, “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have any to practice on to meet your qualifying speeds!” Seriously, is there like a baby diapering Olympic sport or something?

Going out with the friends who have kids is a hazard all of it’s own. An example here is I went out with a friend/cousin today with her grandbaby, and ran into someone I used to work with. I was pushing the buggie with the baby because I enjoy playing with him. The co-worker looks at me and says “Well, that was quick!” Leading to me hastily assuring that the baby was not mine, and is in fact a little cousin. Even afterwards she still made the comment that he seemed to have my hair.

She meant nothing by it. She meant nothing mean. It didn’t stop me from being embarrassed, uncomfortable, and somewhat hurt from the encounter.

It’s an emotional minefield being “that” friend.

That being said, there are some upsides to that as well. I get to play “auntie Angel” to kids that I absolutely adore. I get to spoil them rotten any time I want, and play with them until they’re too tired to hold their heads up. At Christmas, I’m the first to admit I will be the one in the baby/child section looking for the perfect gift to both amuse the child I’m buying for and mostly likely to annoy the parents at the same time.

As much as I try to keep those things in mind, it’s not always easy, and I’ll be the first to admit to being tenderhearted. I always have been, but conversations with fellow cysters and other women struggling with infertility tell me I’m not the only one struggling. Please, if you have a friend you know is fighting the monster of infertility – choose your words and actions carefully. Chances are even if you do hurt our feelings, we’ll never say anything.

Depression Is…

…a pain in my ever-lovin’ derriere. Today, unfortunately is one of the bad days and all I can hear is this little voice whispering in my ear of all my failures and shortcomings and reasons why I’m not good enough. I don’t necessarily enjoying writing about it, especially when there is so much worse going on in the world, but sometimes getting it out helps.

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Today, depression is hearing how silent my house is. It’s the whispers of mom and dad that haunt me no matter what room I’m in or what I plan to do to that room to try to chase away those memories.

Depression is, no matter what my husband, heart, mind, friends, etc tell me, hearing how horrible a person that I must be that God would bless those around me with so many babes, and we still haven’t …

Depression is knowing you need to get out of bed and get things done, but not being able to convince yourself that it actually matters enough. It’s staring off into space unaware of the passage of time and coming back to yourself only to realize that instead of 2 in the afternoon it is now 8 pm.

It’s wanting to work on a story, poem, song, or blog and then going back to read them and realizing that nothing you’ve written is anymore than rubbish.

It’s the utter worthlessness that creeps into your very soul that you can’t contribute. You can’t ADD to life. All you do is take from you.

Today is one of those days.