I'm in a rotten mood. I should be writing my talk for church tomorrow, but my brain is not in a place where I can have the Spirit with me. I need to get all the crap out to have room for the happy stuff, and this is where I've decided to download the bad. Feel free to skip this entry; it's probably not good for consumption. Garlic-in-your-soul, sea-sick crocodile, don't-touch-it-with-a-39-and-a-half-foot-pole kind of stuff.
I have depression. I hate to admit it, and I hate when it gets to me. There are a lot of reasons for me to be happy, and yet they can't take root because of all the guilt and resentment and pain that eats me up inside. Here's why I'm such a grinch today.
1) I have to speak in church tomorrow. I have been thinking about what I want to say all week, but I haven't written anything down yet. I have less than 11 hours to do so, and I'm blogging instead. So what do I hear in the back of my head? Procrastinator. Pathetic.
2) I have been fighting a cold and running on a sleep-deficit all week. My average bed time this week has been about 3am. I feel crappy during the day, and/or I have to work, so the only time I feel well enough to get stuff done is late at night. Stupid. No self-control.
3) I REALLY wanted to go to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert this year. Tickets are free, but they draw from a lottery as to who gets them. I have signed up every year for at least the past 5 years, and I have yet to receive any tickets. But what do I see on Facebook? "I went, and it was so wonderful!" "Look where I am! Lucky me!" My sister Sarah got to go (even though she really didn't care about it) because her friend got tickets. My sister Rebeccca doesn't want to go tomorrow morning, because she'd have to get up so early. My Mom will go, though she's not happy about driving all the way to Salt Lake tomorrow. They didn't offer me an invitation, but I couldn't go anyway because I have to speak in Sacrament Meeting. Becca told me to 'call in sick,' but I can't do that. I accepted the invitation, so it's my responsibility to deliver. Poor me. Bad attitude. Unlucky.
4) Usually, I can put up with Allen's crap. When I'm already in a mood, the things he does just grate on me. He claimed that his only responsibility today was to keep Benji out of my hair so I could write my talk. We were in Logan for the NFCP, and he spent practically the entire day playing on his Nook. I took Benji and Rachael with me to Hobby Lobby, and Allen was supposed to keep an eye on Lily and Tessa. "But I need to take a shower." He kept reminding me that I needed to write my talk, but it is nearly impossible for me to concentrate when I'm in Logan. We helped my mom make food baskets to take to people in her ward, and when it was suggested that Allen do something other than sit on his ass, he said "How did I get roped into this?" I took a short nap, and when I came downstairs, my siblings were helping their children decorate gingerbread houses. Allen was still sitting on the couch, not even trying to help Benji participate. Allen didn't even consider taking Benji to the movie with everyone else. We both ended up staying at the house, and though Allen was supposed to be watching Benji, I found the boy having thrown everything (including ornaments and a poinsettia) off of mom's entry table and spinning a knife. Stellar job, honey. Just spectacular. And when asked to do something else, he said, "I'm in pack-mule mode," i.e., he was putting stuff in the car, and couldn't possibly help out someone else for a few minutes. I'm pissed that I agreed to spend eternity with this guy. Short-sighted. Miserable.
5) I love hanging out with my siblings. It's honestly one of my favorite things. Over dinner, we were talking about Thanksgiving (which Dave & Lexy spent in Chile), and they started talking (facetiously) about how their children are "perfect." I know these kids, and I know how each of them has certain things they struggle with, but compared to Benji, in my twisted mind, they are perfect. They are smart. They are normal. They don't have "Special Needs." So again, I start feeling guilty about having an autistic child, recalling all the things that make me a terrible mother, and feeling jealous about all the things I am missing that other parents take for granted every day. Sad. Rueful. Resentful.
6) I'm so sad about the school shootings in Connecticut. I can't believe how heartless one young man can be, and how sensational and political the media has made this incredibly sad event. I'm grateful my boy is safe, and I'm glad he doesn't understand, but I still wish I could talk with him about it. I wish he could understand how much I love him, even though I'm incredibly frustrated with him much of the time. Horrified. Unappreciative.
Can you see why I'm not in a very good place to write something spiritual? I feel slightly better having gotten it all out, and I know I just need to do it. I'm a bad banana with a greasy black peel.
3 comments:
mary,
i find you post amazingly honest. I'm sorry you have found yourself in such a dark place. Call me if you need to talk. 801-792-3442.
All that being said. I think in today's society we have a problem. I call in the Facebook happiness problem. Basically it's everyone's need to post or flaunt how happy and amazing their life is. How it's so much better then everyone around them. In real life nothing is that easy or amazing. I cannot tell you how hard these last 10 weeks have been. I love my daughter and I love my husband but it is so much harder then I could have imagined. And if I hear my dad tell one more person how easy of a baby Cedar is I might hit him. I think that instead of always bragging about how wonderful things are we sometimes need to be honest. Being a mom is hard, being a wife is hard, and being in a family is hard. There are good times and there are bad times. And even in the bad times we need to live in the moment. Cedar will never be 10 weeks old again. So even though it's hard I just have to remember that I need to step back. Last night I spent 4 hours awake worrying about her and going back to work on Wednesday. But the reality is that I have no choice. I'm not sure what I was trying to say here... call me if you need to talk.
You're not a horrible person, or unappreciative, or sad, or unlucky; you're just in a bad mood and need to vent. Hope things look brighter now.
Actually I really did care about that concert. I felt incredibly lucky to go. That said, I took myself off facebook for several reasons - and have yet to miss it. I agree with the above sentiments - it's easy to believe everyone else has it easy. I have my dark hours too, Mary. I hope you know there's help out there. :-) I wouldn't have a job if there wasn't.
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