This morning in the car I was thinking about writing to work through a lot of the things that are running around in my head. Then I remembered that once upon a time I wrote a blog, and it still exists...wonderous thing this Internet. So here I am, feeling like a very different person than I did when I started this blog many years ago.
The snapshot update is this:
My son "E" is nearly 5 years old. Last time I posted he would only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Now he only eats peanuts (I exaggerate, but only very slightly..he actually eats about 6 additional crunchy foods). He's a love. I love him, and I worry about him...a lot.
My daughter "M" is almost 3 years old. She's like a little version of me. All feistiness and fun one minute, and crying into her blankies the next minute. I love her a lot, but I don't worry about her as much.
The house is different too. We've gotten new siding, a new roof, an awesome new deck and porch, and I finally re-painted the front door. The little perennial garden on the side of the house is big and out of control. There are no vegetables growing this year, the chipmunks ate the strawberries.
Cooking doesn't happen much at my house any more. On occasion I bake gluten and dairy free treats, and once in a blue moon I cook a real dinner for my family. Food has lost much of it's pleasure for me because my little boy doesn't eat...food is a source of stress, not of pleasure. Grocery shopping makes me feel depressed as I look at food and think to myself, "is there any chance he'll eat this?"
As I write this, my heart feels heavy and my eyes are just barely not crying. I've had depression for a very long time (probably always, but it didn't really rear its head until college), and I'm in a depressive stage right now. It will pass...it always does. I just have to ride it out. In the past when things have gotten really hard I've just quit. Quit jobs, quit relationships. I've headed back to where I feel most secure...my parents. But I'm a grown woman with a family of my own now and quitting is not an option.
I'm not sure who will read this or whether anyone will, and I don't think that matters (maybe I'm still in some people's RSS feeds). The writing itself feels good. And D (my husband) if you're reading, I will talk to you about the things I post here so they are not a surprise, but sometimes things come out much easier for me when I write than they do when I talk. So ask me about what you've read...I might forget to tell you (or think I've already told you) since thoughts don't stay in my brain very long.
There are lots of blogs out there about lots of things and lots of them are awesome and inspiring. Sometimes this blog will be like that. If you're new, look back at my old posts and you'll see where I've been. I'll get back there. Maybe not to the same things...but to other things that are creative and productive or just plain silly. I remember that writing this blog made me do things just so I could write about them. Maybe that's not the healthiest reason to do things, but if it motivates me then that's good.
So that's that. "Welcome back," I say to myself.
