MoxieLife

I am so out of this pity party!

I admit that I have been a big dork. I was doing SO WELL! I was getting happier. I was enjoying life and then WHOMP I was feeling sorry for myself and looking for a violin player! What a total dork. Let me tell you how this downward spiral into pity got started.

Two weeks ago, on Mother's Day, my husband called to say that he would like to join us when we went to Silver Dollar City (a local amusement park) for Our Sparkly Girl's 19th birthday. First, I was stunned that he called and wanted to talk with me and secondly I was stunned that he wanted to go somehwere with us. Remember, I have not seen him sense January when he ran away screaming - quite literaly.

So, I said yes.

Then the wheels starting churning and I started to get anxious about the day. I quizzed all of my friends on what I should do, say, wear, etc. I was so nervous... all for naught. It was a fine day. There were some akward pauses, but basically it was fine. We are good friends and it was an easy companionship - nothing stressful about it. Granted, my motherly instincts went in when I saw that he had lost at least 50 pounds. Other then that it was a great day and we parted with a hug and a kiss on the top of my head with the promise to write weekly.

So, why the pity party?

Well, I started to think I couldn't be patient anymore. That I had had enough of this current situation. That I just wanted him home and because he wasn't I was sad and miserable. Well, let me tell you THAT is no fun to be around - ask my daughter!

So, I am officially ending this pity party. I am getting back on the "I am OK" bus and starting to relive my life. Sure, I miss him, but if he isn't ready to come home I can't sit around thinking I am a horrible failure with nothing to live for (see where this pity party leads!) I have a life and just one last time I looked so I better start living it.

Sorry, I just don't want to go anywhere.

Apparently my antisocial ways have been outed by my Sparkly Girl. She, in complete frustration with me, wondered aloud if I always stay home and never go out. I tried to justify myself, but after several moments I realized that I have become rather antisocial. I just don't want to hang out with others, roam around shops, or find things outside of the house to have fun.

Granted, the house alone takes forever - there are always a million chores to be done and if I don't do them they don't get done. Do they matter - yes and no. Could they wait - sure, but they will all have to be done eventually.

Really though ever since my husband left I just don't feel into getting out much. I go to work things, the library, sometimes walking with a few friends, to see my therapist, the grocery store, and every month or so a craft night with the girls. That is really it. Work things are what bring me out of the house most (coffee with a local business person, a meeting, an event) and without that I would definately stay in more.

I am not unhappy staying in - I putter around, read, tackle big projects, and do a fair share of nothing. Granted if you read my last posts you know I'm generally rushing around doing stuff - nothing terribly important - just stuff. That doesn't make me happy - but filling time with others doesn't really make me happy either.

At 19 she is used to more people and more to do - I just am not in the mood to fill that up. I feel bad because I think she sees this as not healthy or not happy. I just can't seem to get into the groove of seeing more people and listening to them drone on and on about thier lives. I can't hear them complain about some trivial thing... someday I might be able to, but right now I am fine at home. (Unless she sees something about me that I don't...)

Choosing to be poor - what a concept!

I watched the Oprah last week about class issues and it was interesting how shocked people were when they realized that they had moved from middle class to poverty. All of the stories were of people who had made that change due to unwelcome circumstances (job loss, layoffs...). They weren't prepared and they were shocked that it had happened.

Let me tell you dear readers - our family made the choice to become poor by Americas definition. We jumped off the corporate train 7 years ago and moved to rural Americal - knowing that our paychecks and health insurance wouldn't be coming with us. When we decided to make this move we were told by friends that we were nuts. That we were leaving the one true meaning of life - money defining happiness and success. Unfortunately for them, we don't believe in that value of life and so we ditched our San Francisco lifestyle to move to Arkansas.

What have we given up - eating out, high rents, fast internet, new cars, health insurance, museums and theater. Things that add to the ease of life.

What have we gained - a home with 13 acres, a garden that feeds us all summer, chickens with enough eggs for 4 families, time (although as you know I don't have enough of that), quiet.

Are there problems - absolutely. We have very little new things. We don't go to the doctor unless we have to. We are not protected if we become very ill. Every new expense (car breaking down, house issues, college expenses) are incredibly stressful. Not enough money to cover everything and so things are done in stages. No credit - once you choose poverty you don't exactly have the picture of credit worthiness - which is fine because it means very little debt. And friends - I think they worry and are reluctant to include us in things because they aren't sure if we have the money to cover the expenses.

Do I miss my city middle class life (we were upper middle class)? No, we never had enough then either. When you make more money it just gets spent - things were expensive and we didn't have savings then either. I wish we had a little more cushion, but we don't and worrying about it doesn't make it better.

Are our needs met? Mostly. We don't have everything we want, but we mostly have everything we need. A nice balance. I thing many people who think they are middle class are really poor - they just don't feel poor and that is a fine thing. Is money the only value in which we divide people?

So, Oprah and friends - being poor by choice isn't so bad - really.

Life is rushing by.

Have you ever had the feeling that you aren't really living your life how you want to? It seems to me that I would like to make time for simple things, little rituals to mark time, moments that make the everyday seem special. Unfortunately, I am lost in the too busy and not noticing mode. The effort that it takes to make time to mark the little things in life with a toast, a lit candle, or a moment of reflection seem too hard. In the end does all of this rushing around doing really add up to something? At some point I think I have to realize that I am never going to be a Martin Luther King Jr. or Susan B. Anthony - that my life is made up of smaller stuff. It seems that the rushing around to get things done isn't amounting to a whole lot - that is what I am trying to say.

 In fact - I don't think I am very happy at all.

I rush around to make things happen. I rush around to make a little more money that just gets sucked up into some other void and I never see the fruits of that rushing around. I rush around to get things clean only to have them get messy again in a second. I rush around to get dinner on the table only to have it eaten in less then a minute.

 And, really, this isn't making my life happier or easier.

In fact, I try to make time for friends and family or for myself and I feel myself rushing through that too. There is no joy there.

So, the question becomes how do I get off that track - how to I relish life, enjoy the moments, and feel settled?

Why am I so busy?

Busy days! Ever since my Sparkly Girl returned from her freshman year at Hendrix my life seems a bit out of whack. Last night we ate dinner at 9:00pm! I don't mind the busyness, but it does put a squash on my housecleaning and organizational skills. The faster I run the messier the house seems to get. Here is a catch up on all we have done in the last two weeks:

• Hosted a Company Picnic for all of the local merchants in town (over 70 people attended)
• Planted our entire garden
• Got Sparkly Girl's last Gardasil shot at the county health department
• Lost power steering in our car
• Took the car to the shop
• Borrowed a friends car
• Planted hollyhocks, zinnias, and sunflowers
• Mowed
• Went to Spanish Club
• Shopped for new clothes for mom - I've lost 25 pounds and everything is huge
• Taught a class on 50 Free Online Tools
• Went to the library
• Started to clean out the van that has been sitting for over a year to get it towed and fixed
• Attended a Main Street Arkansas conference
• Led an all day walking tour through town for 40 people
• Attended a meeting with the history museum
• Attended several meetings
• Went to Walmart more times then I would like
• Got stuck behind a river of water for two days - we are able to get out now!
• Dishes, laundry, sweeping, picking up random things

Oh the list seems to go on and on and there just don't seem to be enough hours in the day. I know everyone complains about this, but seriously how are you supposed to provide balanced meals, exercise, create spiritual moments when you are running around just trying to keep up. The truth is everything takes longer then you think it will and not feeling under pressure isn't easy.

How do you keep up with it all?

What I am searching for!

Here are some of the odder things that I have looked to Google for this week:

Dog Asthma - every once in a while my dog, Zeppelin, seems to suffer from an asthma attack. He has laborious breathing and it seems so difficult. Apparently, dogs can have asthma. Am I going to treat this - no, but I was curious.

Anaheim Public High School District - I was actually looking at the rules to joining MENSA and apparently you can join if you have an IQ test that was done previously and it is in the range to qualify. I know that when I was in 1st grade I was tested and that test would be in my transcript. So, I was looking for a contact. Granted when I called they thought I was crazy.... not unlike what they thought when I was actually in high school.

How long do eggs last? - We have seven laying hens and get 6 eggs a day. Yes, one lady is not doing her job, but I am too lazy to figure out who. That is a lot of eggs and I was wondering how long eggs actually last. Well, we don't wash our eggs unless they are dirty and the outside of the egg has a protective film (not the ones you get at the store - those are washed) and so they can last for quite some time. Thank goodness I was looking a little yellow from all the egg dishes.

Kusmi Tea - this is a Russian tea that is extraordinary. Well, I don't know if it is, but I had remembered reading about it somewhere and I really love the packaging. I was seeing how expensive it is - a little out of my price range at the moment.

And a lot of How's (how to get your husband back after he ran away screaming, how to change the brake fluid in a car (didn't do that - too messy), how to buy a pineapple, and how to lose 20 pounds) - seriously if there is something I want to know (practical or impractical) I just Google it. Don't you?

What have you been Googling lately?

Damn straight, I'm no Southern Lady.

I have been having the most fortunate moment in the evenings since my daughter came home from college. She decided that she wanted to watch all of Six Feet Under from the beginning and it feels like coming home. I am reminded as I watch them with her how wonderful the show was.

Specifically, I am reminded that I grew up in Southern California and my family is much more Los Angeles then Mayberry. Unfortunately, I now live in a Mayberry town. One where if you told the check out lady to shut the fuck up they might look at you a bit odly rather then continue to just check out your groceries. In fact, they would talk about you throughout the entire town and you might feel banned from the store as you try to enter next week.

My family doesn't believe in god, curses, appreciates the ironic, and isn't always nice - and I wonder sometimes if that cultural upbringing is the reason - we were never forced to smile or say thank you when growing up. We watched a lot of PBS, listened to NPR, argued about politics. We all had sex early, ran around as teenagers doing things we shouldn't, and didn't care what anyone else thought.

Now as I try to squeeze myself into the confines of a small town I fail all too often. I am getting ok with that too now. I am fine with not fitting in, I don't wear makeup to the grocery store, and I let the occasional epiteth slip. I may not be Aunt Bea, but I can hear about all your transgressions without batting an eye - and coach you through lifes little messes. Aren't you glad I live in your little town?

Hey, you guys need to stop staring!

When I am walking down the aisle of Walmart looking for Kleenex because I have a cold I do not appreciate you ogling my daughter. In fact, if you don't stop staring I might have to pop you in the crotch. Do you look at all 18 year old girls like that? I hope not. You just look like a dirty old man.

Yes, this is what it is like to go shopping with my daughter, walk down the street, or stand in line at the bank. Men fall over themselves to stare at her. She is gorgeous... she is nubile. She has great boobs. But she is my little girl and I think it behooves you to look where you are going before you trip.

More disturbing is when men who knew her when she was little come up and tell me how beautiful she is. I know that she is beautiful and I do not need you to go out of your way to tell me. In fact, it is disturbing because you aren't looking at her like she was your student in 7th grade you are looking like you are going to think about her next time you jack off in the shower. Please don't share your thoughts with me. Really.

What I don't think you understand, guy, is that I see her as my little girl. I see her as the baby who nestled in my arms. I see her as the girl who taught herself to ride her bike. She is my superstar and my fairy princess all wrapped in one. So, when I am around have some respect for me as her mother and look away - or I just might pop you one. Plus, you are old and she has no interest in you - she is staring at the hot guy her age in the next aisle!

Dealing with depression in the family.

I just finished reading "It Sucked and Then I Cried" and I realized how I had not shared the intimate details of my life here - you may think I have, but there is seriously more to it. Heather, in the book and online, should be a national hero. Her battle with mental illness, postpartum depression, and her ability to share that so other people wouldn't feel so alone is stunning.

As a daughter, sister and spouse of people who have varying degrees of mental illness I have always had that nagging feeling that I should stand up and do a shout out for family members who deal with this. As the one who checks others into hospitals, is on the receiving line of suicide threats, or who witnesses a nervous breakdown first hand.

Here are some things that I have slowly learned over the years dealing with people with mental illness and depression:

• It isn't my fault. They are depressed or mentally ill all by themselves. I am not the cause of their irrational behavior, mood swings, anger or suicide attempts. They do that all on their own.
• It isn't in my control. I don't get to decide that I am done with their depression. Oh, how I wish I could discard it like the smelly sponge on the kitchen sink! No, I am not allowed to put the time frame on their mental cycles.
• They don't always mean what they are saying. This is probably the hardest one to remember. When people are in the midst of a breakdown they say some awfully cruel things. Things you would never say to someone - you may think these things when you are mad that they left the trashcan lid off and the raccoons have spread your tampons throughout the yard, but you don't SAY those things. People going through the ravages of mental illness often have no control of what they are saying and they can get ugly. You have to filter that with "they are sick - they don't really mean to say that I am the worst person on the universe next to Hitler".
• They can't "just get over it". Oh boy. I have said this on WAY to many occasions. "Can't you just get over it?" No, no they can't. Their little minds are circling through it all over and over and over and even if they would like to get off that hamster wheel they can't. You telling them to isn't going to help - in fact I guarantee that they will tell you that in the most obvious way (see bullet above.)
• Drugs helps some people. I totally believe that drugs help some people some of the time. I also think that it is personal - even when you really want someone to start taking something - anything - to stop the craziness it is up to them to do so. And even when they do start taking the drugs they may not work. Then you get to watch them take more or different drugs. The best advice is if you are living with them offer to help manage the medication - the prescriptions chage so frequently and the doses and the pills look so similar this can be crazy making in and of itself.
• Go talk to someone. Get professional help for yourself. This would be the MOST important thing to do. The mental illness professionals have missed a serious step - they work with the mentally ill patient and forget that there is a whole family unit there who has been ravaged by sleepless nights, words no one should have to hear, and emotional roller coasters that are impossible to get the seat belts off. Family members of mentally or emotionally ill people NEED HELP. You have to process the fact that they said they hate you, that they tried to hurt themselves, or that they have trouble loving you the way you want to be loved. If you have someone in your life who is seriously depressed - even if they are not getting help - GO GET HELP YOURSELF. You have to have someone to process this craziness with.

I wish I could have a booth somewhere to share this with people - a megaphone yelling "if you have a loved one who is depressed or mentally ill you are not alone!" Think about it - there are millions of us. For all the people on Prozac there are family members who have gone through the spin cycle one time too many. There is no stigma in depression or mental illness - it is the SAME AS HEART DISEASE. I swear to god that I wish I could wear a ribbon or a t-shirt or host a walk so that we could all understand that we are all in this - and it is ok.

Spurned Woman has something to say.

Recently I became aware of an epidemic hitting our little Victorian Village - divorce and separation. It seems that although we may live in one of the wedding capitals of the nation we are taking a hit in our own marriage population. I never thought that I would be part of that particular scourge, but apparently like the 1918 flu anyone can be taken down.

I am obviously not a spokesperson for how to handle a separation or divorce from your spouse or partner - I haven't really even talked about it publicly (interesting that I don't consider this public). Because I don't really know that status of my relationship (another subject for another day) I didn't want to go around sharing the intimate details of what was happening.

Until a friend completely fell apart after her husband had an affair.

Then folks - I found my inner voice and told her like it was.

Here to preach it for you - Spurned Woman

We are not victims. Bad things happen. People in our lives do stupid things, but it is our CHOICE to have them in our life or not. No one dictates who we cohabitate with - not even our husbands. We CHOOSE how we start and finish our relationships.

And we can do this. We can be women alone. We can be women with children alone. We can get up everyday and do what needs to be done. We were people before we were married and we will continue to be people - no act of cruelty, stupidity, or mental illness can take that away from us.

So, ladies, seek professional help to look at every crevice and give you the skills to put your socks on in the morning. Have tantrums in the shower. Scream in your car. Cry with a friend. I won't even start telling you about how your children are counting on you (you KNOW that).

But every morning get up and start again - and hopefully someday that will seem normal.