Life, Love, Parenting

digging out of the darkness

 

 

 

 

 

 

He won’t remember the two weeks leading up to Halloween when I was realizing the decrease in medication was affecting me more than I thought it would. He won’t remember the dive back into self doubt, self hate; the constant desire to sleep, or cry, or runaway. He might not even remember that we slept at my parents’ house more nights than we did at our own. I pray he doesn’t remember all the times I was uncharacteristically short tempered with him.

He will remember that we snuggled a lot more than we had since the beginning of school. And he will remember that I worked hard with his Lela to make him the costume he requested for the school’s storybook parade and Halloween. He’ll remember that we still made it to school (both of us) and soccer practice and games. He’ll remember the love.

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He’ll remember the smiles and that they were sincere because of my love for him. Because he’s what keeps me going most days. Him and the support I’ve surrounding myself with near and far. I know my anchors…though, I’m not sure all of them know they’re anchors.

All I can do is pray that I get it together before he does start remembering the dark shadowy days for what they really were and not the masks I tried to create to protect him from it all.

Life, Scatter Brained

A big deep sigh…

I definitely thought I had published a post a week or two ago. I guess I didn’t. I think it had something to do with getting back to blogging as a means of therapy for myself. Letting out some of the crazy (and some of the more sane) thoughts that run through my brain 24/7. Okay, not all of them. No one else needs to know my daily schedule down to the minute. If I wanted to do that I’d be on Twitter. But I don’t, so I’m not. But I digress…

I need to write out my thoughts. I need to release some of them – the ones I’m brave enough to share. It’s really scary to lay it all out on a screen, and even scarier to hit publish. But it also feels great afterwards when you know that you’ve just done something SO BRAVE.

For a person constantly struggling from depression and questioning her every decision – having a small feeling of accomplishment can go a LONG way to boost me up emotionally in the right direction. I start to think “Well hey, I just had the strength to do that, clearly I can conquer the world now!”

Ok, maybe not to that extreme, but I do feel better and think more positively. Until the next negative thought creeps in.

Did I mention I’m in my first semester in nursing school? It’s hard. As in REALLY, truly, the hardest thing I’ve tried to accomplish, maybe, ever to date. I have help. Boy, do I have help! But, it’s still hard.

Did I also mention that I decided now was THE time to lower my dose/possibly completely get off my meds? What.Was.I.Thinking? I’m terrified after reading that I could dive into a deeper depression than when I started as a “side effect”. So, in order to surround myself completely with anchors, I told my family (ha! And now YOU!) and actually confided in a couple of my instructors. I mean, they are nurses and there to help us be the best we can be…and they might start to wonder what’s up if I start coming to class wearing pjs and puffy eyes because I was weepy for some unknown (to me) reason. Because I won’t miss class…but clearly personal hygiene would be an indicator that I’m slowly trying to stay in bed, all day.

That’s my update. This is my big sigh – the moment I sit here for a second and consider to hit publish or not.

Commitment, Life, Love

Commitments: life, love, being a parent…

I thought this would make an appropriate first blog post for this little space of mine. For the obvious reason: creating this blog means I’m making a commitment to keep up with it; and for a few not so obvious reasons. I’ll elaborate.

A few weeks ago I was listening to NPR and there was a man talking about his stance on abortion. He didn’t believe in abortion but he was pro-choice. His stance is essentially the same as my own. Being NPR of course they had people from both sides on to debate. This man though was offering up some really great ideas on how to meet in the middle of the debate. It was a good discussion, in any case.

This post is not actually about abortion in any way, at least not directly.

It is about commitment.

When I decided to date Dave, I made a commitment to him in my heart and mind to be faithful to only him and see where our friendship could go. Obviously, it developed into love and marriage and now a little family to share our love with. Before God, some family and friends we made a vow to each other for life.

In loving Dave and choosing to be with him I made a commitment to his career. This commitment was not immediately clear to me, but after a couple of moves I realized that while it may have been his dream to be a Marine pilot and not mine, his career had a very direct impact on my life. It hasn’t always been easy to be that selfless.

Every day I make choices that impact my life: will I eat badly, will I exercise, how fast will I drive today, how much will I drink? I’ve made the decision not to smoke, use drugs, etc. These are commitments I make for the betterment of my healthy and well being.

I’m desperately trying to commit myself to becoming a nurse!

But the biggest, MOST selfless commitment I could have ever made was the day I peed on a stick and it showed two lines instead of one. I committed to allowing life to continue. In that split second of chaotic thoughts running through my brain, terminating the little lima bean sized being inside of me was not one of them and therefore, I committed to his future. That commitment didn’t make me a parent though.

That commitment came later when I decided that I would keep him as mine. This may seem an obvious decision given that I was in a pretty solid marriage (3.5 years in by the time T was born), but hear me out. So many girls and women out there decide to give a baby up for adoption for many different reasons. It wouldn’t have been unheard of for a young married couple to decide not to keep a baby. We did, and therefore in that decision, we committed ourselves to being parents.

There were the obvious things I had to do, keep my body healthy so I could ensure his development was the best I could physically and biologically offer. But then there were the other decisions, ones I’m still realizing we are making on a regular basis. Being a parent is HARD. And being a first time parent is really, really hard. Sure, there are books out there to help guide you, but NO child is exactly alike. And therefore, you will take that information and advice from the books, your childhood upbringing, your parents, your other parent friends, etc… and have to STILL figure out what’s best for your individual child.

Every single day I wake up and decide to stay committed to being the best parent I can be for my son.

This morning was rough. Why are you waking up at 6:30 am? Mommy’s alarm doesn’t go off for another hour. No, the sun is not up all the way, you are seeing things. Please, please go back to lay down. Do you want to snuggle? No, you can not have a snack, that isn’t breakfast. No, you can not play Mario…well, maybe you can. Can you play until you hear mommy’s alarm (now only 30 mins away)? Mommy’s alarm hasn’t gone off, buddy, what do you need? Oh, you’re hungry. Go get an apple. No, you can’t have a snack, you can have a banana. I don’t care that you don’t want a banana, snacks aren’t breakfast.

And now I’m up. Because there never really was any point in trying to stay physically in bed. Was I “Awesome Mom” this morning? Well, no, no I wasn’t. I was grumpy Mom. I let my son play a video game before going to preschool. I did not give in and give him a snack but if I’m honest, I may have if it were Saturday. Because things like that always seem more okay on the weekends, don’t they?

I know that I’m not really a bad parent. I can see that from a big picture view. There is no such thing as the perfect parent, I know that too. But I do question decisions I make as soon as I make them. I feel such a responsibility for his life, as I should, and wonder how decisions I make today will affect his tomorrows. He is our “test-baby” – we will learn with him and if he ever gets a sibling, that sibling will probably have an easier go of it at times because Tarleton was our teacher. Sometimes I feel guilty for that.

No matter what decisions I make, we make, as parents one thing is for sure: we are undeniably, unequivocably devoted to loving this little human combination of the two of us. Maybe he is a little spoiled, darn that cute face of his! Gets us almost every time, almost.