
It’s for sure becoming apparent that the state of my self-esteem can absolutely be measured by how well I am tending to my house, or how interested I am in tending to my house.
This morning, despite a late night waiting for Liam to get home, I managed to get Oliver to school, started towels (towels and sheets don’t count toward laundry day), have kept towels going all day so far. I did my morning meditation with my Calm app and did 20 minutes on my stationary bike (20 minutes instead of 30 because I haven’t done it in at least a month and a half and am really out of shape all over again).
It’s time for some serious yard attention now that it is Fall. My goal yet this afternoon is still to get out and mow a section of the yard. But this morning, I managed to trim back those bushes you see in the photo above all by myself. That’s kind of a thing because I normally leave that sort of yard work to Jared– getting me to mow or blow off the driveway is usually cause for celebration enough.
But I care about how our house looks and feels again, and the whole hedge trimming project took about 30 minutes total. I had to come in and rest after, and so here I am writing while I get up my energy to go mow, after having had a snack for lunch.
But here’s the thing: Somewhere along the way in 2010 or so, I just utterly snapped. And I have floundered at times and I have done okay at times, and I have mostly been able to be social when out in public all along.
But inside, I’ve felt defeated. I looked back on my school days both in grade school and high school and undergrad, and I did have quite a bit of academic promise. And then in my early career I had such interesting, impactful employment.
And then, I had a very public episode and, job after job, the career-type promise went away.
And I am doing my best to build back. Looking back now I can see for so many years I was grasping for instant repair.
There is no instant repair for the kinds of trauma and mood issues I’ve dealt with in my life. In fact, I’ve run away from the kinds of healing that would really help, at times.
So here I am, in late 2025, and I realize now that the next perfect job is not going to fix my heartbreak. The latest camera gear is certainly not going to fix my heart. The best thing I can do for myself is remind myself that I am capable. And there’s no better way to do that than to do what needs to be done– what I have been running from– and that is to tend to my home and family.
Aside: waking up this morning with the new sheers was amazing. I was in the bed until 7 and the light was just starting to come up, and the uniform light entering the house, growing little by little as the minutes went by, was balm for my soul. That was exactly what I needed, and I am thrilled with the effect. Letting my body work with the sun is also good for my soul and mental health.
Every day won’t be perfect. I know I have to expect depression to come back with its darkness again.
But it seems to be true: When I want to run from my house, when I want to start over, it’s not really about the house. It’s about myself.







