Day 32: Night lights

Ok, I admit it.  I am afraid of the dark.  Not like little kids are, but still . . .   Darkness scares me for two reasons.

Reason 1:  I'm not afraid of the dark as much as what might be in the dark.  I'm not afraid of scary monsters that you see on tv and in the movies.  I'm afraid of the scary monsters that walk around in people suits.  There are a lot of people who do a lot of bad things and my imagination is a little too good sometimes.  Probably just paranoid, but there you have it.

Reason 2:  Late night.  It's dark and quiet.  Time to pick Dan up from work.  I head over to the house at ten thirty or so.  There is nothing on the radio I want to listen to.  I am tired.  I'm in that pre-sleep thought process where my body is trying to wind down.  Unfortunately for me, my mind doesn't wind down.  It starts to think about stuff.  I review the day and everything that I didn't handle well.  Every time I raised my voice to one of the kids.  When I didn't accomplish something that I wanted to.  Each chore around the house that still hasn't been done.  I think of how hard it is on the kids when I'm going through mood swings.  When I raised my voice to Livi yesterday, she said, "I'm sorry I screwed everything up."  What a horrible thing for a three year old to think.  What kind of terrible mom must I be to be crushing her confidence like that?  I told Payton tonight that I'm going to start going to counseling tomorrow so that I won't make so many hard days for him.  He told me that he ruins way more days than I do.  I think of these things as I drive across town.  I begin to think that I've got to be the world's worst mother.  Somehow my lack of control has become worse than neglect and abuse.  My thoughts get more and more distorted and I don't know how to stop them.  By the time I see Dan, I'll be in tears.  He'll ask what went wrong and I'll tell him that there's nothing wrong.  I'm just a wreck.  He'll hold me and hug me and tell me that I'm doing my best and that it's going to be ok.  And I think of all that he does for me.  I worry about how much of my emotional weight that he has to carry for me.  Now I'm a horrible wife too.  It doesn't matter that I get up early every day to take Payton to school across town so he didn't have to transfer when we moved or that I pack his lunches with stuff he likes.  It doesn't matter that I work with Livi to help her speak more clearly so she won't get frustrated when people understand her.  It doesn't matter, the hours I spent with Ash to help with her homework or her vision therapy.  It doesn't matter, the talks I had with Avian to let him know how important and special he truly is.  It doesn't matter that I invested all I had in trying to show Saanna how a family could support each other.  It doesn't matter that I have been there for Dan through surgeries and emergency rooms and being talked down to for staying home with our kids while I worked or that now I'm staying home with Livi.  None of those things come to the surface when it's dark and quiet.  The only things that float to the top are the things I did wrong today.  And yesterday.  And every day of my life.  I feel like I'm drowning.  I'm Aladdin, weighted down and sinking with no Genie to save me.  I know it's illogical.  I know it's no accurate representation of the truth.  Even as I'm thinking these things, I know they are wrong, but I can't stop the flow once it starts.

But I think I have found a way to slow the flow.  I used to say that religion was just a drug that people used to replace another addiction.  Maybe it is.  But for me, late at night, when it's dark, it is my night light.  I play my pandora radio with my songs of God's strength and how He will carry me.  How He hears my hearts cry and how He will never get tired.  As the music flows through me, as the power of the words calms my thoughts, I can finally find a little peace.  God knows how much I need His strength when I am weary and He knows just how weary I am.

God helps those who help themselves.  I am reading books, studying nutrition and supplements, starting counseling and going to church.  I've tried so many things that haven't helped.  I couldn't decide what I believed about God.  How could I have faith like I did when I was ten?  I realized that if I just acted as if I believed, eventually, I would feel it.  It's just like when Aaron and I played nice for Payton's sake, and then one day we realized we were really friends again.  With God as my night light, I'm starting to believe that maybe I really can be ok again.

Day 22: Mad Shopping and a Revelation

I think I need one of those cheesy junior high diary blog things that gives me all sorts of emotes so I can track my moods or something.  I never seem to know why I am feeling the way I'm feeling, but there are definitely some changes going on and I don't think I like them. 

In general, it was a great day.  Heather picked me up for our walking group this morning.  We had a good walk that got me sweating even though it was only thirty-some degrees.  Livi was up shortly after I got home and we woke Dan up at 11.  We had Papa Murphy's for lunch and watched a couple episodes of House. 

We took a break and headed for the Merc.  It was crazy busy and Olivia was pushing her teeny cart and swinging it around and playing and being three.  And I had no patience at all.  If I said something once and I had to repeat myself, I was snappy.  Nothing like last Friday with Payton, but very low tolerance for anything. 

I've been short tempered with Livi all afternoon and evening.  I was kind of hungry for a snack this afternoon but I wanted a Snickers, so I had a cup of Tazo Organic Chai instead.  I thought it would be a good substitute.  With a little Splenda, it was a little sweet.  Water can fulfill a need and you can realize that maybe you're not really hungry.  I thought I covered my bases.  Now, at the end of the day, I came to a realization.  Last Friday, when I had a meltdown and ended up screaming at Payton, I was hungry.  I hadn't had a snack that afternoon and we were late having supper.  My mood had started slipping around two or three.  On Monday, my mood started sliding into tears around the time Dan went to work at 3pm.  Today, I was fine until we headed to the Merc around 2 or 2:30.  I think I'm having some kind of afternoon mood crash.  Dan's thinking that maybe it's a sugar low that is throwing my mood off somehow. 

Starting with today, I will be religious about logging my food and my moods at the end of the day.  That way, I've got something I can use to track what's going on.  If a lack of a snack has a correlation to my mood swings, I'll be more careful about snacking.  If food is irrelevant, I need to figure out another reason that two to four pm is such a bad time.  It's like I'm balancing on a high wire.  On one side is rage and the other is sobbing.  As long as I'm on the high wire, I'm above all of that and life is good.  Everything is great and I'm happy.  I'm able to enjoy my family and friends and the great things in my life.  But if I slip . . . it's just a fall.  I can't get back up on the wire until I sleep for the night and reset.  So, there are two things I need to figure out.  First, why am I struggling in the afternoon and how can I avoid it?  Second, if I can't avoid it and I fall from my precarious position, is there any sort of lifeline that can help bring me back without having to spend the next 10 hours putting everyone I love through the wringer?

As of right now, I'll just track what I eat at what meals, but if that is not good enough, next week, I'll start tracking food by time rather than meal.  Also today, I picked up some 5HTP.  It was a suggestion from the wellness coach with Women to Women.   I took one 50 mg tablet with supper.  I will take two a day, at breakfast and supper, for now.  Next Friday, I'll adjust it if I still don't see a change.  Something has got to help. 

Monday I will check with SRS for options to receive medical and psychological assistance. 

Calories:  1882
Mood:  Good sliding to snippy in the pm
Sleep:  6 hours

Day 19: Off to a great start

Back on an even keel again.  Oatmeal for breakfast and Payton to school.  Grabbed a few groceries and put them away.  Filled out paperwork for Olivia.  She used to be ahead of most kids in her speech, but now, even though her vocabulary and grammar are still coming right along, her actual speech is not keeping up.  Dan and I have both been actively working with her on various sounds, much like we had to do with Ashlynn.  Yesterday, Livi's preschool teacher suggested that we might want to have her hearing and development screened.  She gave me the info packet and it was almost ready to go before anyone else was awake.  I had to save part for Livi to help with.  I had to write down ten sentences that she used exactly as she said them and then translate.  That was actually pretty fun. 

Today was Wednesday.  We picked up Payton early and had DQ blizzards for an after school snack.  My plan is that having 1/2 of a mini blizzard once a week should be able to help me avoid ice cream the rest of the week.  So far, it's working.  :) 

Day 17: It's Monday

I don't really know what happened today.  I thought I was having a good day when it started.  I took Payton to school and hit the grocery store.  I even fixed my bed hair before I headed out.  I went back home and headed to bed for another hour or so.  When Dan and I got up, we did some work around the house and we had lunch.  Then we watched a couple episodes of House on DVD. 

Once I took Dan to work, my mood just started falling.  I don't even know why.  I mean, I KNOW why, I have major depression and all that . . . but I don't understand what triggered it.  I spent the evening with the kids either crying, or trying not to cry.  By the time I went to pick up Dan, I was a complete wreck.  I stopped at McDonald's for a couple McDoubles, knowing that this was a bad idea health wise and a bad idea financially.  I just felt so hopeless that I couldn't see why it would matter. 

Then Dan and I stayed up later than we should have to watch a couple more episodes of House.   A little snuggling on the couch and watching fake people's problems helped some.  At least I didn't cry myself to sleep.

Knowing now that depression is an official disability according to the American's with Disabilities Act, I think I'll see if it is possible for me to get a medical card along with the kids.  Maybe then I could start seeing a doctor again and a therapist.  Surely there is something that can help me break this cycle.