(And we need to get our internet fixed! It was down again last night . . . So here's yesterdays)
I slept in Saturday morning until 9am.
This is actually unheard of for me (unless I travel east). I wake with the birds. 7:30am is actually pretty late for me to get up . . . but 9am. Unheard of.
And so needed. I was in bed fast asleep by 10:30 pm Friday night (after the grandma hour date John and I had--dinner and a movie all before 9:30pm--no crowds anywhere! It was the best).
I know I've been mentioning having a hard few months where my anxiety has been a bit higher than normal, but what I was really experiencing was pretty hard long days every day. I couldn't really get a grip on reality. I'm still not totally sure what is real and what isn't. That's the hard part of anxiety, it makes you doubt yourself and everything and everyone around you. And this, by far, is nothing compared to what I've been through.
I know I have it pretty mildly and I feel worn down by it. When I hear people quietly or softly admit to dealing with anxiety, I get myself right and and walk over to them and give them a big huge hug and tell them, Listen, I am your sister in this. We can make it through together. What can I do to help? And when they say nothing, that means I'll call them and make sure we got for a walk or lunch or if they keep ignoring me, I keep texting them. Because I've been there too, where I just don't want anyone to see how utterly messed up I am. It's embarrassing at it's best, and utterly debilitating at it's worst. One time I had it so bad, I literally had to have people hold my hand while I peed because I was convinced I was going to disappear if I wasn't holding onto someone. Crazy right? Yep, welcome to the world of me.
But I'm also a lot more than that. For three long years I believed I was just my anxiety. That this huge black cloud looming over me, following me wherever I went, interrupting conversations, runs, walks, relationships, and basically my ability to function, was all I was. I could never be enough. I would never get out from this cloud. I was failing everyone. I was a horrible mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, and human. I honestly would just lay down sometimes and know that the world would be a better place if I wasn't in it.
I had help through out this process. I was definitely not alone for one step. Both my families gathered round me. My friends honestly held me together. And I'll be honest, I would not have made it without a strong believe that there is something bigger out there who is wiser and stronger and more loving than I can imagine. And I put a lot of faith in that and in Him.
I called my mother, in the darkest days, when I had three small children, John was in mad job searching mode and I had just had my third miscarriage (the hormones plus a lot of other crazy circumstances contributed to this rather rough patch). I was sitting in the basement of the waiting house (what we called our in between house) doing laundry. The kids were playing around me and on me and I was desperately trying to hold it together. I hadn't slept for more than a few hours here and there for three weeks. I was about 100 pounds (maybe) and I had trouble eating. I was, to put it mildly, in bad shape. When she picked up the phone, I just began sobbing uncontrollably. When I could finally get it together I said, Mom, I'm totally losing it. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't even pay attention to the kids because I'm so wrapped up in my brain. I'm terrified I'm going to fail them. They're going to hate me because I've been such a horrible mother to them.
She listened to me and at this point interrupted me and said, "No. You won't fail them. You're not failing them. You're a good mother and doing the best you can. You're going to be ok. I promise you. This will get better. John will find a job. You'll get a house. You will get better."
And I believed her.
Because I knew that she had walked some long lonely hard roads and that things had gotten better. She knew what this was like, ended up half broken in your basement crying your eyes out. And she had survived. She had dark days where she couldn't be the mom she wanted to be and none of us hated her. In fact, we all loved her fiercely and protectively. I knew that she was and is much more than her dark times.
And so . . . I had hope that I am too.
That was a water shed moment for me . . . that and believing that even in my crazy weakest state, I am still important and have things to offer--however small they were and are.
John did find a job. I did get better. I also had two more babies despite the evidence that supported I might not. We got not only one more house, but three more. And I know I've failed my children, but I also know that they don't hate me (I hope . . . ). They honestly shore me up with their love and help and patience bless their hearts.
And so . . . having slept Friday to Saturday morning means more than just a good night sleep. It means that my mind, heart, hormones, and emotions are calming down and I am getting a grip . . . or at least beginning to get a grip on reality again. It's always lose. I think it always will be with me, but that's why, when I get it, I just sit back and enjoy it.
Even though Saturday started off slow, we still went for this wonderful slightly longer than usual run, I got to sneak off and go to the temple, then came back and we all gardened for a few hours putting the garden to bed and mowing the lawns. We shopped for fun household articles and drove through new car lots (Finnegan's favorite thing), went to belated birthday dinner with Piper, got to cheer on Celia and her friend Zoe for going to Homecoming as Single Ladies, and then got to hold and play with baby Zazie while John's sister and her husband went to a movie (without baby).
As I climbed into bed Saturday night, feeling just as relaxed and at peace as I did Friday night, I thought, I am going to stop and just say Thank You to the Universe for giving me this moment, these days to feel good, healthy, strong, and refreshed.
And I did.
And then went straight to sleep.
I slept in Saturday morning until 9am.
This is actually unheard of for me (unless I travel east). I wake with the birds. 7:30am is actually pretty late for me to get up . . . but 9am. Unheard of.
And so needed. I was in bed fast asleep by 10:30 pm Friday night (after the grandma hour date John and I had--dinner and a movie all before 9:30pm--no crowds anywhere! It was the best).
I know I've been mentioning having a hard few months where my anxiety has been a bit higher than normal, but what I was really experiencing was pretty hard long days every day. I couldn't really get a grip on reality. I'm still not totally sure what is real and what isn't. That's the hard part of anxiety, it makes you doubt yourself and everything and everyone around you. And this, by far, is nothing compared to what I've been through.
I know I have it pretty mildly and I feel worn down by it. When I hear people quietly or softly admit to dealing with anxiety, I get myself right and and walk over to them and give them a big huge hug and tell them, Listen, I am your sister in this. We can make it through together. What can I do to help? And when they say nothing, that means I'll call them and make sure we got for a walk or lunch or if they keep ignoring me, I keep texting them. Because I've been there too, where I just don't want anyone to see how utterly messed up I am. It's embarrassing at it's best, and utterly debilitating at it's worst. One time I had it so bad, I literally had to have people hold my hand while I peed because I was convinced I was going to disappear if I wasn't holding onto someone. Crazy right? Yep, welcome to the world of me.
But I'm also a lot more than that. For three long years I believed I was just my anxiety. That this huge black cloud looming over me, following me wherever I went, interrupting conversations, runs, walks, relationships, and basically my ability to function, was all I was. I could never be enough. I would never get out from this cloud. I was failing everyone. I was a horrible mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, and human. I honestly would just lay down sometimes and know that the world would be a better place if I wasn't in it.
I had help through out this process. I was definitely not alone for one step. Both my families gathered round me. My friends honestly held me together. And I'll be honest, I would not have made it without a strong believe that there is something bigger out there who is wiser and stronger and more loving than I can imagine. And I put a lot of faith in that and in Him.
I called my mother, in the darkest days, when I had three small children, John was in mad job searching mode and I had just had my third miscarriage (the hormones plus a lot of other crazy circumstances contributed to this rather rough patch). I was sitting in the basement of the waiting house (what we called our in between house) doing laundry. The kids were playing around me and on me and I was desperately trying to hold it together. I hadn't slept for more than a few hours here and there for three weeks. I was about 100 pounds (maybe) and I had trouble eating. I was, to put it mildly, in bad shape. When she picked up the phone, I just began sobbing uncontrollably. When I could finally get it together I said, Mom, I'm totally losing it. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't even pay attention to the kids because I'm so wrapped up in my brain. I'm terrified I'm going to fail them. They're going to hate me because I've been such a horrible mother to them.
She listened to me and at this point interrupted me and said, "No. You won't fail them. You're not failing them. You're a good mother and doing the best you can. You're going to be ok. I promise you. This will get better. John will find a job. You'll get a house. You will get better."
And I believed her.
Because I knew that she had walked some long lonely hard roads and that things had gotten better. She knew what this was like, ended up half broken in your basement crying your eyes out. And she had survived. She had dark days where she couldn't be the mom she wanted to be and none of us hated her. In fact, we all loved her fiercely and protectively. I knew that she was and is much more than her dark times.
And so . . . I had hope that I am too.
That was a water shed moment for me . . . that and believing that even in my crazy weakest state, I am still important and have things to offer--however small they were and are.
John did find a job. I did get better. I also had two more babies despite the evidence that supported I might not. We got not only one more house, but three more. And I know I've failed my children, but I also know that they don't hate me (I hope . . . ). They honestly shore me up with their love and help and patience bless their hearts.
And so . . . having slept Friday to Saturday morning means more than just a good night sleep. It means that my mind, heart, hormones, and emotions are calming down and I am getting a grip . . . or at least beginning to get a grip on reality again. It's always lose. I think it always will be with me, but that's why, when I get it, I just sit back and enjoy it.
Even though Saturday started off slow, we still went for this wonderful slightly longer than usual run, I got to sneak off and go to the temple, then came back and we all gardened for a few hours putting the garden to bed and mowing the lawns. We shopped for fun household articles and drove through new car lots (Finnegan's favorite thing), went to belated birthday dinner with Piper, got to cheer on Celia and her friend Zoe for going to Homecoming as Single Ladies, and then got to hold and play with baby Zazie while John's sister and her husband went to a movie (without baby).
 |
| good bye garden . . . |
 |
| fall has come . . |
 |
| Piper waiting for her yummy meal . . . Johnny Rockets IS good. |
 |
| Celia and Zoe . . . Cutie pies |
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| Baby Zazie! Our lives are filled with babies |
As I climbed into bed Saturday night, feeling just as relaxed and at peace as I did Friday night, I thought, I am going to stop and just say Thank You to the Universe for giving me this moment, these days to feel good, healthy, strong, and refreshed.
And I did.
And then went straight to sleep.
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