When the Sads Strike

This morning I told Chuck I was going to go write. "I'm going to write some crap, but I'm going to write. I've been avoiding writing too long."

Consider yourself warned. This may be meandering, pointless writing that may be cathartic for me, but leaves you muttering, "What did I just read?" Read, or don't. I just have to write today, no matter what. Do I have to publish it? No, but I will. I feel like I owe whomever is reading this crazy blog an explanation for my two week hiatus. 

It seems that when life gets a little crazy, my brain gets overloaded and inundated with waaay too much information, and my spirit feels overwhelmed by all of the emotions that accompany the cray-cray. There is so much to write about; so much to say, I don't even know where to start, so I don't write anything. 

Today, we ramble. We just get it out on the page. Anything and everything. Well, almost everything. Some things are still too raw to expose to the light of day, and others are not my story to tell. It's funny how the life experiences of others can impact us so deeply. 

At the moment, I am sitting here in a pink, black and white flannel jacket, some crazy striped leggings that would put Joseph's Technicolor Dreamcoat to shame, and a pair of floral socks. My friend calls it my lumberglam look. Chuck was shocked when he first noticed my outfit, and he tried to stifle a giggle. I proudly told him I dressed myself today. 

In the back of my mind, there has been a "hidden agenda" that may have been more of a wish. I secretly hoped to lose 30 pounds. The good news is, I only have forty more pounds to go. Do you think I'll make it by the end of the year? 49 days; that's less than a pound a day. I guess the bad news is, it's not going to happen. YET. But I'm not going to let that stop me from starting. 

For the last two weeks, I've been getting up early to work out. I joined an online workout community called "Headstart on the Holidays." Every single day I have woken up feeling like I've been hit by a truck, and you know what? I'm pretty darn proud of that pain. Working out is the first thing I do, even before coffee, and it's paying off. I haven't had any kitchen binges since I began. And I have been dealing with some serious schtuff here. But I'm dealing. It has been so stinkin' hard, but it's a good sign that my mental health is getting to a healthier place.

For the last little while, I've known I was struggling emotionally. I've felt sad. Lethargic. Blah. Yucky. Yes, I haz the sads. While I've done my fair share of nothing, sitting around in my jammies, waiting for some good feelings to show up, I've also been proactive during this time.

For one thing, I've been reading things that have the potential to lift my spirits; for me, that's the Bible, devotionals, and Brené Brown. I've listened to podcasts about dealing with negative emotions. I've soaked in the tub. I've worked out. I've used portion control, and kept my eating choices to healthy, whole foods. I've listened to the music I love. I've spent time with my husband and one of my friends, taken pictures, gone to the movies, attended concerts and plays. 

After I come home from a stressful day of helping my sweet mother-in-law cope with memory loss, and trying to teach her basic skills like turning on lights and answering phones, I am so wiped out all I want to do is sleep. And I do. But I can admit that depression is kicking my butt, and I tell Chuck and my kids about the sadness that overwhelms me. 

Instead of turning to food, I'm facing the issues that would tend to mentally push me over the edge, and in the past would make me eat until I numbed the feelings I didn't want to feel. I don't just come home and numb my feelings in ice cream. I am dwelling in the discomfort, instead of avoiding it. So there's that.

The blazing red maple tree in our front yard went from glorious to "seasonal affective disorder is going to hit me bad" in one day. I love that tree so much, all fall long. This year I think fall lasted a week and a half. So many of the trees in our neighborhood seemed to go from green to bare, and totally skipped over the stage where they are supposed to show off their fall colors. 

On a particularly sad day, I dragged out my yoga mat, hoping I could shift my mood through movement. I no sooner got into the downward dog position than I had two puppies licking my face and neck. We collapsed in a dog pile on the floor, and I laughed and laughed. They say laughter is the best medicine. My heart felt more whole that day than it had in a long time.

Sami will celebrate her birthday in a few days; Bristol, in a couple weeks. Those puppies drive me crazy; they keep me sane. They lick my tears when I cry, and they make me laugh. The rainy weather and their muddy paws are forces with which I contend way more often than I like, but I wouldn't give up my puppies for anything; not even a clean, fur-free house.

Okay, I'm winding down here. I'm hoping this primed the pump so I can get back to blogging again. I've missed writing, and I've missed you all. If you're still here, thanks! It really means a lot.