Gee…Maybe I’m Depressed

I have some serious whining to do— so much so that I’m embarrassed to post it on my other blogs– even my fibromyalgia blog, which is where I normally do my whining. But I feel so bad and so whiny that it exceeds the self-pity limit over there. So I’m tiptoeing over here to do a little blog therapy.

My god, I have never hurt so much in my life. It’s the fibromyalgia, for sure. Dropping a flaming marshmallow on my arm when I was a kid hurt less than this (don’t ask). Birthing my babies hurt less than this. In fact, given a choice between having say, seven babies every day and the pain that I’ve been feeling lately, I’d choose the babies any day. I can’t describe this, but I just want to climb out of my body and leave this horrible pain.

There seems to be no escaping this. I don’t know what to do. It’s really taking a toll on my self-esteem too. I’ve been going into work with pillows and a heating pad, like some old woman in a nursing home. These days, I no longer feel young, and my zest for life has gone down the tubes. I look at other women my age, and where I used to feel so much more youthful than most of my peers, I now feel incredibly older. I envy their vigor, the way they zip around the office with such energy. These days, I hobble. I never feel sexy or cute or self-confident any more, and I wonder if I ever will again.

I worry about the future, and not just in years any more. I worry how I’m going to make it to the end of the day. I feel so sad because I’m around so many good people, but I can’t enjoy it fully any more, because I see everything through pain. I want to hide from the people at work, because I know that they feel sorry for me. I cry a lot.

Sigh… I want my old quality of life back. In fact, I’d settle for half.

My Weird Nap Dream

I looked into the sky and all of these vehicles were up there, and they were turning upside down, flying through the sky in slow motion. There were several, but the ones I remember were a bus (a really old Greyhound with a rounded silver roof) and a huge American Airlines plane (which also seemed old, like from the fifties). They were so close and so huge that I could see an emblem of a bulldog on the back of the bus. The sky was a brilliant blue.

Suddenly, I was at this really weird, rednecky pizza place with my mother. It was hilarious, because I was filling up these two styrofoam to go boxes with stuff from their all-you-can-eat bar, with the intention of taking it home to my kids (it seems that in this dream I was once again a young single mom). I scooped out a bunch of Caesar salad and filled one container. Then I filled the second with spaghetti with butter and mushroom sauce. I was stuffing these boxes full! I went to the counter to get a third container for pizza, and when I came back, I couldn’t find my other two. I asked around to see if anyone had seen them, and this surly, middle aged couple pointed to an overstuffed chair that someone had thrown a navy blue mechanic’s jumpsuit on. Underneath the jumpsuit were my boxes. I was furious that someone could be so rude. There was almost no one in the restaurant, and plenty of empty chairs. I found out that it belonged to someone who worked there. I spoke to the scary, redneck manager, and he said he’d have a talk with the employee. I was making such a big deal out of it that it was sort of hilarious, and it woke me up.

Stupid Depressing Depression

This is just total whining. Sorry, but I succumb to it sometimes. I’ve had a depressing couple of days, and I’m trying to rise above it, because it will just kick my bootie if I don’t watch it.

I can’t write. Tom’s working on his new business, and I’m “the administrator” (read: “secretary”). It’s leaving me no time for writing, which makes me sad and grouchy. Don’t worry, I’ll work it out, and it’s not Tom’s fault, it’s just the way things are right now. We sit side-by-side, have major creative and business differences, and any spare time is filled with his music. I do have my little headphones on, and right now I’m pumping in some flamenco music, but I like silencio. There is no silence. I like writing. I can’t write.

I really, really want to help him, but I want a little time for my projects too. It’ll come, it’s just going to take time to adjust.

Maybe this venting will help. I think I’ll go to bed now.

Every Night

When my kids were little, before they’d go to sleep each night, I’d make them tell me three things that had happened to them during the day that they felt happy about or thankful for. It could be something as simple as seeing a pretty bird, eating chocolate ice cream, or a formation of clouds in the sky.

There were a few reasons for doing this. One, I wanted them to think about the little things we take for granted. Secondly, it’s kind of a retrospective version of stopping and smelling the roses. It feels good to look back and remember little happy moments of the day. Thirdly, it immediately took their minds off of anything that was troubling them, things that might normally churn around in their heads and keep them awake. It’s hard to worry when you’re making yourself think of good stuff.

Last night, as Tom and I were having our pillow talk before we went to sleep, he was talking about the new business he’s trying to start. He was going over the things he had to do the next day, the things he should have done that day, and things that he could be doing better.

“Tell me something wonderful that happened today,” I interrupted. “Anything.”

He thought for a few seconds, then said, “Well, I loved the breakfast you made.”

I told him that there was this great moment when I let the cat outside. It was freezing cold and icy, but Tux just wanted to spend a minute in the fresh air. He scampered across the porch and over to a rectangular box of cacti. I watched as he took a good long stretch, closed his eyes and took in the sunshine. He yawned, then sharpened his claws on the wooden box. It only lasted a few seconds, then he was back inside, but wow– talk about making the most of a few seconds.

Then we went to sleep.

Tux

Tom’s cat hates me again. It’s doing all of this mean stuff that really hurts my feelings. I’m so nice to him. He sleeps on our pillows, and he plays with my hands while I’m sleeping, but lately, he’s just been obnoxious. The other night, he bit me while I was sleeping. It was a playful bite, but he knows better. I did find out that I can throw a cat really, really far.

Can O Coins

We’ve had this coffee can full of change that we decided to take to the little coin casher machine today, and exchange it for bills. We placed our guesses as to how much was in there. I guessed fourteen dollars. Tom guessed fifteen. There was $72.68 in there.

Boy, are we stupid. And happy.

Marriage and Me

I love this guy I’m living with.

Sometimes, we talk about marriage. In the future. When we’re financially stable. Sometime later.

I used to say I’d never get married again. Now I’m not so sure. I can easily see being with Tom for the rest of my life. It’s the first time I’ve ever been able to say that.  But marriage. It changes things, y’know? And “someday” seems like a nice, safe word when talking about it.

When Tom and the priest were talking on the phone last week, Father asked him when if and when we were planning to get married. Gulp. But my guy is such an angel. He didn’t get cold feet, he didn’t get weirded out by the question. He told him that we were definitely getting married. The priest said he would do the ceremony. Is that even kosher? A Catholic priest marrying a non-practicing Catholic and a sort of mishmashy, non-believer in organized religion, part Jewish heathen?
Oh my gosh. This is so weird to even write.

I’ve Got a Date with Another Man

I may write some about this on my other blog, but sometime after Easter, I’ve got a date. With a priest.

Several months ago, when Tom was working at the Catholic non-profit, we went to Cincinnati to pick up this stuff that this priest was donating to the organization. I fell in love with him. He’s this short, round little guy with a great sense of humor and a brilliant mind. We hit it off famously, and after we loaded up all the stuff, we went to lunch. By the end of it, he and I were like old friends, laughing and crying, hugging and talking about all sorts of things.

We had lunch again with him last weekend, because he’s helping Tom with some Latin translations for his business.   I don’t want to mention the type of business, but he deals with a lot of Catholic retailers.  He asked Tom if he was bringing me, and even though I sick, I went anyway.

I call this guy “the Renegade Priest” because he seems so liberal to me. He brought along this newspaper clipping about a “Bodies” exhibit that they have at the museum there, and he wants me to go with him. So we’ve got a date in March. On the way home, I kept teasing Tom, asking him if he was jealous of “the other man.”

I have the weirdest life.

Here’s a Little Update

Things are looking a little better, I’m happy to say. Here are some good things.

1: Tom has been working like crazy on this new business, which is one of the reasons we’ve been so po. We’ve both been trying self-employment at the same time. BUT- things are looking up! He sent out an e-mail catalog, and we’ve actually had some response!! Response as in sales! I am so proud of him. This is all a big bold move for a guy who spent 15 years working for UPS.

2: I got my taxes done. Woo hoo! A small refund, the majority of which goes to my mother for the couch I bought from her that ended up in the trash. Oh well, I still have the love seat, and I’ll still have a little left over which is GREAT!

3: I’m getting over my illness, finally. Still a little icky, but I feel almost alive!

I have more, but since I’m playing catch up, I’ll do it on another post.

Catching Up

I have so much catching up to do on this blog! I need to check my number of posts.  I think I’m about 23 behind.