I'm NOT Crazy...Right?

I hate it when I have conversations with people where I end up feeling like I'm going crazy.

My husband is one of the culprits, but I've had these kinds of conversations with several people lately.  Conversations with people who say things like, "Well, at least..." or "Have you thought about going on antidepressants?"  or "Maybe it would help if you just tried cleaning the house/showering/exercising/fill-in-the-blank-here-with-something-I-already-feel-guilty-for-not-doing-enough."

Any time I have a conversation like that with someone, it leaves me wanting to scream.  And I usually go into my room and cry in my pillow and talk to God and ask Him if I'm crazy, if I should go on antidepressants, if I should just suck it up and fake it till I make it.

And usually, God tells me that as long as I focus on Him, I'm doing exactly what He wants me to do.

In fact, the other night during a conversation with God, He let me know that I was enough.  That I'm doing enough, that I'm trying enough, and that I'm handling enough.  That was helpful, let me tell you.

And then the next day I had another person tell me something that once again made me feel crazy.

I called my sponsor the other day after one of these crazy-making conversations, and she said something that helped me so very much that I thought I'd share it with you:

"Right now, you are doing the hard stuff.  It would be so much easier to go back into denial, pretend this stuff isn't happening, and clean your house, stay busy, and numb yourself until it's over.  This is much harder than cleaning your house and putting makeup on would be."

I'm not being lazy.  I'm not being dramatic.  And I'm NOT crazy.  I am a human with human frailties and weaknesses dealing with some pretty intense burdens right now.  And for me to focus on the priorities that really, truly matter--well, it means my floor isn't getting mopped for a while, I'll tell you that.  

But it does mean that I'm seeking--truly seeking--to do exactly what my Heavenly Father wants me to do, on a daily, hourly, sometimes minute-by-minute basis.  And, surprisingly enough, sticky floors aren't nearly as important to Him as they seem to be to other people.

You're Not Alone

I hate hate HATE feeling alone.

Things that make me feel alone sometimes:

*Being the only person (out of the 6 people who live here) to notice when the dog needs fed or the trash needs taken out.

*Being surrounded by dozens other people but being the only person to change 5 poopy accidents IN A ROW (anyone who has ever had three non-potty-trained children at the same time understands this).

*Having a husband who works nights and sleeps during the day, or who is gone the majority of the time.

*Not being allowed to talk to anyone about my husband's main disclosures (although I've set a date for him to meet with a counselor about his issues--if he doesn't meet that date, I'm going by myself.  One more week 'till I can TALK about this with someone).

Obviously, this last one is the most significant cause of these feelings of isolation--the rest are all symptomatic, and when I'm doing well and feeling strong and happy, I happily feed the dog, change diapers, and do all of the mundane tasks that trigger me to the point of total panic when I'm not doing well or feeling strong and happy.

Before my husband's disclosure, before I knew just what was going on, before I had even started Recovery, I was having a very alone night.  Husband was off in LA for a school trip, I was home with three very sick kids, and I was unsuccessfully trying to turn my brain off so I could go to sleep.  I decided to read my dear friend's blog (you should read it.  You'll thank me), and suddenly, through her words, I started to think things like, "She's felt this way before?" and "That's exactly how I feel!"

And I started to feel not quite so alone--as if there were people elsewhere who had been through what I had been through and who had felt the same way I was feeling.

The other day, my brother called me and was complimenting me on my latest funny blog post on my family blog.  "I'm glad you're posting funny things again," he said--"For a while there, you were posting a lot of deeper, more serious stuff, and it was getting really hard to read.  I like the funny stuff better."

While I appreciated my brother's well-meaning comment, it stung a little to think that he didn't want to hear the dark stuff....the things that I try to write in the name of being "real" on my other blog (and believe me, that stuff is still highly filtered compared to this blog).  It once again made me feel alone--as though no one wanted to hear about my issues or my problems.  I began to worry that people wouldn't like what I have to write, and even began to second guess whether or not I should share these things at all.

So, I avoided this blog for a little while, focusing instead on writing my bright, shiny, happy things on my other blog, and sticking to expressing myself in my prayers and in my journal.

But you know what?  I am sharing my experience in hopes that I can do for someone else what my friend's blog did for me.  And whether or not it is fun or entertaining, what I am writing is the truth of what I have experienced and what I am trying to learn from it.

So, if you've ever felt angry or alone or hurt or betrayed, just know--you're not alone.  

And sometimes, that's all I need to hear.  How about you?

Alone

I am so tired of being tired.

I feel tired ALL the time.  When I went to the doctor a while back with symptoms of some heart problems, a part of me (that wasn't quite as little as it should have been, perhaps) hoped that he'd let me know that I had a Serious Condition--one that either required surgery or lots of sleeping and laying down in bed, just so I'd have an excuse to sleep all the time and not have to do anything hard.

Even still, every time it comes up to that Time of the Month, I secretly sorta kinda wish that I might be pregnant; not that having a baby would be a good thing right now (I personally think it would be better to bring a baby into a healthy marriage to a healthy momma, something I don't feel that I am right now), but just so that I would have morning sickness as an excuse to feel miserable and not do anything extra.

I hate the fact that I'm so unmotivated.  I'm usually an incredibly motivated person--heck, I ran a marathon, for crying out loud!--but that part of me seems to have shriveled up and died, perhaps surviving just enough to feebly surface long enough for me to start a project or two, but then diving back down into the depths of despair in time to leave me with half-finished projects lying around the cluttered, messy house, while my neglected children run around with unwashed faces and half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches clenched in their fists.

I want to feel energetic.  I want to wake up and feel ready for the day.  I want to do yoga, to run, to go on walks and do fun activities with my kids (although in my defense, I did teach them how to play hopscotch this morning), I want to feel proud of my clean house and folded laundry when it happens, rather than resentful of the fact that I have to clean it at all.  I want to stop escaping into Facebook, email, and my husband's iPad because I just don't have the energy to think about things. 

I've been trying to reach out--I really have.  And that's why I'm on here, because even if there is only one other person in the entire world reading it, at least I'm reaching out.

But I still feel SO Alone.

And I don't have the energy to change that feeling right now, so I'm just going to wallow in my Aloneness for a little bit, take a nap, and then see if I have the energy to reach out in a more productive way than sharing my whining thoughts on the Internet for everyone to see.