Tag: Mental Health

  • remembering to breathe

    Julio and Wanda at the Marina

    Life looks a little different than it did on July 3, my last post here.

    I tried working a job. A job that was tough and would have been harder than pretty much any full-time job I ever had, so I gave it up after a week of in-person training.

    I wanted to like it, I really did. We could have used the money.

    I am coming to terms with the fact that at 45 years old, there’s a lot in the working world that I have just missed out on growing with. And my tolerance for other people’s low standards is pretty low.

    So, I am going to focus on keeping expenses down. I am going to focus on writing. I am going to focus on working through my own bullshit. I am going to focus on my marriage and my children. I am going to focus on my mental health, which honestly could use some work right now. I am going to focus on my friends.

    Wanda and Julio are named Wanda and Julio because Jared says that is their names. Jared says he didn’t name the ducks; that he just tells me what their names are.

    It’s been difficult for a variety of reasons to find the good in the world lately. Jared says I never learned to see happy. I think he’s right.

    It doesn’t help that I haven’t been focused on our marriage in about a year or so. It’s been difficult for a variety of reasons. At times, I have been ready to walk away.

    Jared says he always sees the hard times as just singular moments. I have difficulty in seeing it that way. When I am upset, my world is consumed by the upset. I don’t see the world in shades of gray. Everything is wonderful or it is terrible. It’s the way my mind works. I’m pretty sure I was born like that though various traumas don’t help.

    I stopped writing in my journals about 9 months ago. It’s been a long time. I haven’t written much blog-wise in that time, either. I turned to AI therapy but it’s not great either. I don’t have a great deal of trust in real person therapists, though.

    It’s safe to say I just don’t have a great deal of trust. Period.

    Nine months ago I confronted a part of my past that I wasn’t quite ready to confront. I didn’t have a clear picture of what to expect, and I what happened wasn’t at all what I did expect.

    And to say that I’ve made any progress toward closure would be dead wrong.

    So, I am going to stop chasing closure.

    The reality is, in some situations there is no closure. There are no answers; there is not some happy ending coming in to save the day.

    There’s just tomorrow. And getting up and making breakfast and coffee. And mornings with my husband. And taking my youngest to school. And remembering to breathe.

    The remembering to breathe is the hard part.

    Nights at the Marina help.

    You can read more about me here.

  • when taking It easy is the hardest work

    I’m going to try to write more consistently.

    Today’s goal was basic: get a shower. Goal accomplished.

    Tuesday was a rough day; I wasn’t feeling physically great after having way-overdone it on Monday. I was pretty sure I was going to have to go back in, which now feels funny considering it’s Friday and I feel much better, if a little washed out.

    It is difficult to remember that I am recovering from major surgery. It’s hard to think of it as major surgery because all in all, pain was minimal and I don’t have crazy external incisions at all. Just three tiny little almost cute incisions.

    But Tuesday reminded me that I have to take it easy. I don’t like it and I am bored and it feels ridiculous. But it is what it is.

    I am considering selling my second camera and a few of my lenses. I sort of have this vision of being a one-camera, one-lens photographer. Kind of funny to circle back around to that after so many years of chasing better and more, photography-wise. But, here we are.

    And then there are the days like today where I am writing, where I only took a single photo of Bess our cat, where I just am sort of existing.

    It is difficult to be kind to myself sometimes.

    Fridays in the summer Jared is off, so we took Oliver to a bouncy house in town earlier in the day:

    It’s pretty funny that I got a photo of one of the little kid bouncy houses– Oliver was playing in a lot of others but not this one.

    It’s been raining a lot, and with my brief setback earlier in the week, Oliver didn’t make it to the pool. I feel bad about it, but we’re going to try to do more next week.

    Summertime is quick slipping by for sure.

    You can read more about why I write here.

  • on my recent hysterectomy

    on my recent hysterectomy

    Two days shy of three weeks ago, I had a complete hysterectomy. They took everything. While medically justified due to family history, they did find problems with both ovaries in surgery that made it apparent they did indeed need to come out. The decision was made initially because I just wanted to prevent problems as I got older, so the timing of the ovarian problems was just a happy coincidence.

    The first three or four days were the worst, though the physical pain hasn’t been too bad overall. Now I struggle with the not doing too much, as I feel called now to do things like purge my house of unnecessary clutter and potentially rearrange furniture.

    I feel like I should be lamenting the loss of my ability to have more children, but the reality is, I have been mourning that loss of ability for the better part of a decade.

    Our youngest son was a surprise pregnancy and I was so traumatized by that pregnancy that I not only got my tubes tied, I insisted on my husband having his own procedure, too. But after the dust had cleared from those procedures, and after I realized that yes, I can be a successful stay at home mom to toddlers, I regretted that sterilization choice.

    So, I have been mourning the loss of my fertility for most of a decade so it doesn’t feel that jarring now that it is permanently impossible to have more children.

    My husband and I have three beautiful, wonderful, brilliant, kind, and funny boys. I treasure each of them.

    In reality, this whole procedure, assuming the rest of recovery goes smoothly, feels like a big gift to myself, not a loss at all. No more periods; immediate menopause so no more years of the back and forth wondering when menopause will come.

    I’ve been walking a little with Jared most days at the Marina, and yesterday I started doing my lying chest fly exercises that I love to help my chest and back– they are part of my physical therapy exercises and it felt so good to ease back into them. And I got clearance to drive last Thursday, so I have my freedom again.

    Here’s to hoping the remainder of my recovery goes smoothly.