My Kind of Depression

My depression is always centered on what other people are doing – to me or at me, to my son or at my son. I can handle it for a while but there is always a day, whether it’s once a month or every quarter, that I just fall apart.

Today is that day.

I am lonely because I started grad school and spend so much time writing papers and researching.

Last night, I texted a friend that I have been going out of my way to help the last few weeks to ask what she was up to. She told me what she was up to…and didn’t invite me. I’m good enough when you need something.

I have to hire ‘friends” for my 13 year old son with autism and chronic lung disease. AND these friends need to be OK with his oxygen tank, love of Mickey Mouse, Bowling, Chuck E Cheese and “black popcorn”. At a good price of course, most are OK.

Today, his “friend” didn’t show up again, his one real friend was busy and I can’t do what I needed to do. No grocery’s today, not bank visit, not stopping at the shop because John doesn’t travel well at all.

It slaps me in the face that I have no family that steps in to help or even get to know my son. I watch my brothers and nieces hanging out with the other cousin’s kids and family all over Facebook but can’t seem to get anyone to hang out with mine.

My Husband is my best friend. He talks me down, shows me how strong I am and reminds me that we have each other.

My depression feels like a pit in my stomach that hurts, it twist and makes me feel like I want to throw up. It wells up tears constantly throughout the day. So bad that I can’t go out because if someone seen me all they would have to do is ask how I am for me to break down. My depression makes me feel lonely when there are people everywhere. It makes me want to never see another person. It makes me want to never help another person. It makes me feel resentment for everyone else’s well being and happiness. It makes me think no one really cares. It makes my throat swell up and forces me to breath deeper.

It makes me pray… it will pass.

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“Expectations are resentments under construction”

Today is my 18th wedding anniversary.

23 years together, 4 apartments, 5 houses, foster kids, Johnny, hardships, losses, joys and love.

After all this time together I think I figured out the secret to a lasting marriage… not giving up, at least not at the same time.

Kevin and I have dealt with a lot of issues in our years together, hard issues like alcoholism, medical hardships, taking care of ill family, ill children, financial bankruptcy, and separation and near divorce. We were foster parents for 14years. I am pretty sure the kids are the only reason we stayed together, whether we were happy or not.

Early on expectations of each other is what catapulted us into arguments. Eventually, we never argued. I know now not arguing is a very bad thing for a marriage. It means you may be ignoring the issues that are causing you resentments and anger.

Kevin and I separated for 2 years. 1 of those years we lived in the same house the other year he bought a condo a few blocks away. We raised the kids together better than ever when we were separated. Kevin was always available to help out at the house, more than ever. It gave me some time to myself which I learned scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was always taking care of someone else.

During those two years I learned how to care for me. I was forced into it by the separation. I learned that men are not our knights in shining armor and will not save us from ourselves. I learned how to make friends with woman, all types of woman! I learned how to live sober alone, happy alone. I lived my life constantly challenging myself to try things I never did. I traveled to Ireland solo for the first time to see my dying mother. Normally, I would convince my bother to go with me. However, I did call or text my brother constantly asking for positive affirmations and guidance. I started a Non-profit for my son’s school with other moms and raised over $22K the first year. I started my own business negotiating a “divorce settlement” from Kevin because he refused to get a divorce. I took care of my dying father for 9 months with more grace then I give myself credit for. I let go a little (just a little) of Johnny, my growing boy with the trifecta of disabilities (autism, CDH and Epilepsy). Letting go is the hardest thing I have ever done, and I am still working on that.

With everything I did, I didn’t do it alone!  I had a posse of woman or community behind me cheering me on, telling me I am crazy and loads of constructive advice. They empowered me!

At some point, Kevin and I came back together. I attribute that separation to what saved our marriage. It allowed me to grow as a woman, mother and human. It allowed Kevin to watch me grow without him. He had to know I could do this without him. He also needed time to catch up in his growth and spirituality. But, that is his journey to tell.

What I love about marriage in our 18th year seem so silly, but defines who we are and how we love.

  1. Eating!

We went out to dinner for our anniversary. We talked and laughed a lot while eating with full mouths and sometimes even making a mess. As we sat there we watched a couple across from us. They sat so tall and prim. The woman had a napkin on her lap and wiped her mouth after every bite. The guy chewed with his mouth shut and covered his mouth when he laughed. I asked Kevin, “Do you remember when we were shy eating in front of each other?”  He just smiled and said “Not anymore!”  Dinner time is so much chiller and laid back. We don’t overdo the manners and we surly don’t wipe after every bite, anymore.

  1. Dating!

We are raising a family and so damn tired by the end of the night. Just after our afternoon anniversary date at the spa, dinner and a trip to Costco, we were home by 5pm, we crashed at home. At 7pm we both wondered when John will go to bed because we are exhausted. Dating is exhausting at this point. Staying home on the couch and watching a movie isn’t exhausting. My favorite is when Kevin pauses the movie to tell me something about his day. Or when I start talking and he pauses it so he can hear me. That is my kind of date!

  1. BFF

Yes, he is my BFF, my partner in life. I tell him when I am constipated or when I have my period. He tells me about the Port-a-potty issues on the job site. It’s what best friends do, talk about the things that we shouldn’t talk about. We laugh a lot!

  1. Who cares if the dishes get done?

I don’t!!  Neither does Kevin but he does them anyway. I used to harp over who does the dishes and how I hated waking up in the morning to a pile. I never even gave anyone a chance to do them. I just complained while I did them. Eventually, when I started stepping away things got done without me. Imagine that? I step away and stop doing it in my fix/manage/control way and people step up and get it done in their own time. Ahhhh…..

  1. Marriage is NOT 50/50

Sometimes marriage is 80/20. Sometimes it’s 90/10 and sometimes is 100/0. The person who said marriage is 50/50 didn’t have any hardships or loss. When John was born I had to quit my well-paying job to stay home with him. His medical needs were so overwhelming that for me working was not an option. I was his nurse. Kevin was the bread winner now. I took care of 80% of John’s care from advocating, doctors’ appointments, school, nursing care and so on. Kevin took on 100% of the financial burden. We both could have easily been resentful of the other for doing more or less. Resentments just lead to anger and isolation. Today, we work as partners. We have clearer expectations of each other and help more with the household duties. We talk about what we need help with instead of expecting it without asking. Someone told me once, “Don’t let him disappoint you”. Tell him what you want or need instead of waiting for him to fail because he didn’t know or understand.

  1. I’m not his mama

I don’t need to control him. He is a grown man and the decisions he makes in his personal dealings are his to make. I can only offer my opinion and pray he makes the right choice, most cases he does. Which leads me to the next one…

  1. Forgiveness is easier

When I am mad at Kevin I can let my thoughts spiral into a sad sad story of our lives. I script future conversations about divorce. Thankfully, I never speak a word of it! I have trained myself to fall into positive impressions of Kevin. By training myself I mean, I call a friend who loves him and tell them why I am mad. They usually side with me but always justify Kevin’s side. It allows me to take a step back from anger and look at him in a positive light. I talk about how great of a father he is, how he is always fixing things around the house, about that time he built a new garage in 2 days and put up a new fence. I talk about the way he holds John when John is sick. How he gives him a bath every night and I get to hear them laughing. He doesn’t resent us, he loves us and loves spending time with us. We know this through his actions. So that one time a month he pisses me off, is so much easier to forgive. I hope Kevin feels the same about me.

  1. We agree to disagree

I am notorious for stopping in the middle of a conversation we are debating and saying “Ok, you are right.”. And walking away.  Kevin usually laughs at me but I feel like it’s a ‘drop the mic’ moment and I have actually won. This is what I tell myself because in reality I would rather be happy then right. This little tactic has saved us from hours of the silent treatment. Best one ever!

  1. We don’t need gifts

Gifts were great in the beginning. At this stage in the game I just want him to take the lil man to Chuck E Cheese for two hours so I can catch a nap. In reality, it’s the day to day things that get done or how he shows up, that is the real gift. Most Sunday mornings he lets me sleep in but leaves a cup of coffee by my bedside just in case I want to sit up in bed. Sometimes he throws in a bagel or a bowl of fruit. My dear friend Ann always says, “It’s about the season, not the day”.  What we do for each other all month long is a sweeter gift then flowers and thigh thickening chocolates on sweetest day! I’ll take the season over the day.

  1. Our love is unconditional

Before Kevin and I separated I vividly remember telling him on a drunken night that I hate him. I remember saying it and thinking, once I say this I cannot take it back. It is my greatest regret in our marriage. However, it is also one of the things that got us to the place we are now. I remember the hurt on his face when I said it. It was all over money, paying bills and how we parent. Our love was conditional, if you pay the bills and help me parent I will love you. The recession hit us hard, we had a house in foreclosure and we owed my father a lot of money. This sort of thinking takes years to change but if you are invested in spiritual and personal growth, change can happen. After I got sober I began working the steps. This is when I realized how unrealistic my expectations were and how conditional my love was. I pushed people away by hurting them and drank to feel better about it. Today, we are partners. When we can’t pay the mortgage it’s up to both of us to make it work. If I cannot contribute financial I can contribute emotionally. I can tell him I will support him and help look for a solution. I can pray and reassure him that I still love him.

It took me years to remove the labels that we assume when we get married; romantic, knight, lover, money etc… What we thought a husband should be is not the reality. If more people went into marriage with less unrealistic Expectation of each other, the marriage would last.

My favorite words of wisdom when it comes to marriage:

“You can tell a lot about a marriage by the way they treat each other through the bad times.” – I have no idea who said this but someone did and I remembered it.

We have had enough bad times to pull us a part and back together again and again. Somehow, we keep coming back to each other.

I love my life today, I love my marriage, my home and my lil family!

“Expectations are resentments under construction” – Anne Lamott

 

Social media addict?

Yesterday, I made the decision to remove myself from social media.

Yes, I did….

I deactivated my Facebook account and deleted my Snapchat.

I didn’t have an Instagram or twitter.

However, I do have accounts in all of these for my business.

On a personal level, I am not longer connected to social media.

AND I FEEL FABULOUS!!!

At first, I thought this was going to be hard. How will I survive without seeing everyone’s lives happening before me? How will I make it through a day without seeing how everyone’s first day of school was or how that girl in Bloomington is doing with the new baby. How will I make it without knowing how Ed the coffee guy managed to make it through the Park Ridge Farmers Market or how Bob from California is enjoying his new puppy?

This is how I did it. I replaced that time scrolling through social media with ME time. I looked at my son while I was talking to him. I asked him questions instead of nodding yes while responding to a post. I cleaned the oven, which was pretty cool! I did an amazing amount of marketing on milkshakes for my business and arrived into work early without being tired. While at work I read a book during the slow times and did a little extra cleaning.

It all seems so normal but for me it isn’t normal. I spent way too much time on social media. Doing all these extra things personally and professional has me feeling empowered and ready to tackle some more tasks. That’s crazy!!!!!

Last night I went to bed earlier then I usually do and actually went to sleep!  Like within 15 minutes. That’s unheard of!

This morning I woke up before the alarm and felt great.

I am pretty sure I was addicted to social media. Without it I get a little itchy, I want to just take a quick peek. I pick up my phone to click the big F (that’s F for Facebook) and for a second panic that it isn’t there. But, it’s getting easier and I am looking less.

Another reason I quit social media. It was helping me to build up resentments. I spend a lot of time with my son at home because autism doesn’t let us enjoy day trips out like most families. In addition, his chronic lung disease and oxygen requirements make it hard to just hop on out the door. Watching these assumable normal families enjoy the last few days of summer vacation was making me sad, not happy. Watching stranger’s lives that have no part of my daily life was making me resent them.

Without those visuals I can focus on the gratitude. The beautiful smile and hardy laugh my son enjoys at home. Our everyday hot dog lunches and “black popcorn” with water balloons by the dozen. The chronicles of the Boss (our puppy boxer) and homemade meals (not instagramed or facebooked) by my super BFF hubby! The best part are the text messages from the people IN my life with pictures of their kids first day at school, letting me know they are traveling for a sick family member or just asking to meet for lunch or coffee.  The important stuff!

You got the BUNZ hun!

Johnny’s BFF is an 18 year old girl named Emma. She is sweet when she wants to be and the polar opposite of that at times. She can’t help it because she has a nuero disability that causes her to lose control. However, John and Emma together is always just hot dogs, McDonald’s and short naps, always happy times.

We have very few people that can watch John for us. Actually, we have two, Erin and Auntie Patsy.  Erin is Emma’s mom and Auntie Patsy is our neighbor from the old house that we lived in for 17 years. She has become part of the family, the only “family” member that has taken on the hard task of learning how to be alone with John. We love her more than words can say, and Erin, of course.

One afternoon Erin had taken John for me while I worked. When I arrived home John had learned a new song.

“Anaconda don’t! Anaconda don’t! Anaconda don’t want none unless you got BUNZ hun!”

I bet that song is stuck in your head now.

We have been shouting it out just like that since he learned it. You have to have the emphasis on BUNZ, with a Z.

In March 2017 John came down with the flu. He ended up in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) of our children’s hospital for 5 weeks. Thankfully, he recovered and was sent home on 4 liters of oxygen 24/7.

While in the ICU we met a really cool nurse named Katie. I really loved her vibrant personality and genuine smile. As an ICU mom for the past 12 years, I have sat many hours getting to know John’s nurses and vice versa. This nurse told me her story, with hardships and all, while smiling with gratitude. I loved that about her.

When John started to feel better his personality started to shine through again. He’s a clown that loves to make people laugh. He instantly adored Katie and her funny personality. One day he looked right at Katie and said “You got Bunz hun!”. Katie’s eye brows raised with a grin on her face while giving a puzzled look. She replied “Well, yes I do have bunz Johnny.”. Johnny pointed to the top of her head. Katie and I looked at each other laughing because we realized he meant the bun on her head!

After that, every time someone with a bun in their hair walked by Johnny’s ICU room Katie would stop them and ask Johnny, “Hey Johnny, what’s she got?” and Johnny would shout back, “You got bunz hun!”.

He had the entire ICU laughing.

Always making people laugh…

A few weeks later I was pushing John in his push chair into the bowling alley. There was a woman walking in front of us. She was a larger woman with a larger then average bottom and a bun in her hair. Johnny shouted to her “You got bunz hun!!!”

When she turned around I was already pointing to the top of my head saying “He means the bun on your head”.

7 months later I am still explaining the bunz comment to random people….  Ladies with bunz, men too….Johnny will point it out to you. Because he loves bunz!!!

 

 

Daily Prompt: A Casual Mom

I have no fancy dresses in my closet. If I received an invitation to a black tie event or wedding I would need to go out and buy something. I have summer dress, jeans, shorts and tanks. I wear underwear with super heroes on them or the cookie monster. I wear sweatshirts over my tanks in the winter because I still sweat a lot. I recently decided to let my gray hair grow free.  I now have long hair that is gray and I love it! I wear jean shorts, leggings and yoga pants, no yoga though! I am always comfortable.

I wasn’t always like this. 12 years ago I had a baby boy, Baby boy Murphy is what they called him in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) of Children’s Memorial Hospital, now called Robert and Ann Lurie’s Children’s Hospital. He was born with a right-sided Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia. This is where his liver and bowels grew up where his lungs should have been causing him to be born with partial lungs. He spent 13 months in the ICU after birth, 8 years on a ventilator and 9 years with a tracheostomy. He has Epilepsy since the age of 2. His first seizure lasted 8 hours and only stopped because he received a sedative cocktail that would knock an elephant out. He also has Autism and Sensory Processing Disorder.

His story is long, tragic and beautiful. He is a lot of work and somedays just amazing to be around. I can barely take a shower for more than 10 minutes at a time while we are home alone because he has no sense of danger. I am scared he will walk out of the house or set fire to it.

This morning I pulled out a summer dress because I didn’t have time to do laundry. After envisioning the day which consist of a trip to Chuck E Cheese (because he earned it), a picnic and a festival (if we survive the picnic) I decided to put my knee length yoga pants on, they make my calves look awesome! That summer dress would have tripped me up if I had to make a runner after the little man.

Happy to be casual, working from home, entrepreneur mama ❤

via Daily Prompt: Casual

What’s Next?

It’s been an autistic kind of day…

This morning John refused to talk to me unless we used the walkie-talkies. I enjoy when he does this because it encourages him to use proper sentences and good words. He keeps the volume so low on the walk-talkies that we can’t hear each other. However, we are standing right in front of each other. I believe the sound of the voice through the walkie-talkie causes a sensory issue so he keeps the volume low.

On the way out the door an older man walking a huge old German Shepard was walking by. John started chanting “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” over and over again. The man stopped and looked at us shocked. I quickly looked at him and said, “I’m sorry, he’s autistic, he’s just nervous”. The man gently said, “I can leave”. I said, “NO, we see you all the time, its ok. He has to be Ok”. All while John was chanting “Fuck”. The man said to John, “Hey John, this is my dog Jake”. John stops chanting and looks in their direction and says, “Jake, like Jake and the Neverland Pirates. Jake, Captain Hook, Mr. Smee, Sharky, Izzy and Skully.” The man responds, “Oh Skully, yeah I like X-Files, too”.  Next run in with Old man and Jake should go a little smoother.

We went to the last day of camp’s talent show at Indy Park. John is so well behaved at Indy it literally has me stumped. I have no clue why. Maybe because he loves it there so much. We spent an hour there listening to the team, greeting everyone and sitting watching the show. It was the quietest he has been all year so I really took advantage of talking to other adults without interruption. It was amazing!

As we were leaving it took everything in me not to cry before we got to the car. John loves this place but cannot attend because of his medical needs. They do not provide nurses and I can’t stay with him. I was sad because Special Olympics starts in September and he will not be there. I was sad because he is missing out on so many things that he loves, where he feels the most comfortable with the friends that make him feel normal and loved.

When we arrived home I let him eat “black” popcorn, didn’t feed him dinner and sat my depressed ass on the sofa. I was emotionally drained from having a good ugly cry in the car on the way home. John asked to go downstairs to play Wii. I was all for it, but didn’t follow him. I wanted to see if he could do it himself this time. He has seen me do it a million times.

I waited…I got lost in my phone…I waited a little more….got lost in my phone a little more and then popped up thinking he was way too quiet. Ill head down to see what’s up.

Scene: Our basement is small so the doors are pocket doors that slide into the wall. The bathroom door was half open with oxygen tubing trailing out. The smell of shit was in the air. I slowly peek in to find a few balls of shit on the floor, a little on the wall, all soaking in a pool of pee with his jeans and underwear laying on the floor soaked. John is sitting on the toilet humming and chanting “what’s next, Mommy?”, the question he has been asking all fucking day, while splashing his feet in the pee.

I managed to get it cleaned up while he sat on the toilet. I was amazed that he didn’t move off the toilet. I think he knew this wasn’t right and just wanted to sit there till it was gone. Kind of like what I want to do when I do something wrong….maybe it will just disappear?

All cleaned up, he jumps on the couch to play his Wii asking “what’s next?”  The bathroom is probably cleaner then when we first bought the house, BONUS!

My character defects like to creep in unintentionally. One of them is impatience and anger. Today, it didn’t’ happen. I only felt sadness. I feel like that is emotional progress…feel the feelings, walk through the fear, and keep the faith….

All day I have been listing off in my head the autistic quality’s that my son has.

The repetitive asking

The swearing

The need for a schedule

The lack of understanding of danger

He is intellectually disabled

He is beautiful, smart and so loving

Whats next blog

This is the face I love every day. It’s the face after the storm, after the hardship and after the madness. It’s the face of love and gratitude. He puts his head on my shoulder while patting my back saying “Gracias, mommy”. While we are just sitting there, after the storm. He puts on a hardy laugh while saying “I love you mommy”, just to see us laugh, after the storm. At bed, he asks one more time “What’s next?”, tonight the answer was “Tomorrow is Saturday, Chuckie Cheese because you earned it!”. He responds. “I earned it!” while his 12 year old body wiggles so hard with excitement.

#GoodNightSweetWorld

And tomorrow we will do it again…

Practice the pause

Practice-the-pause.-640x640

Sunday will be my father’s birthday. He would have been 76 years old. Sunday is also the day we moved into our newest home, one year ago. I feel like that was a sign. Dad always wanted us to move into a smaller home and take care of ourselves first. He said we were always taking care of other people kids. He called my house “Sunshine Rehab”. When he was in the hospital, I texted him a picture of his new bed all set up in the living room of my old house. The house was very large with 5 bedrooms and 3 ½ bathrooms. The living room had no other furniture in it other than Dad’s bed and anything else he needed. I used a folding wall to give him privacy. We wanted him close to our everyday activities so he could see what was happening around him. Not in a room with a window facing the alley or a neighbor’s house.

My biggest regret when it comes to my father was talking to him like he didn’t know anything. With the tone of a snotty teenager that thinks they know it all. As he aged he asked questions I deemed as stupid or uneducated because I knew the answers. I was impatience and judgmental. Why I thought I knew more than a man that lived more than twice my life span is beyond me.

This morning as I was cleaning up dog poop in the yard, no doubt with a puss on my face, I was listening to my neighbor’s 40 something year old son talk to her like she didn’t know anything. He was explaining things like she should already know. He was aggravated and snappy. A familiar sound since I talked to my father that way many times. As we age it’s hard to be patience with the elderly, until they are dying. My neighbor wanted her son to fix something mechanical. He was mad that he didn’t understand what she wanted and snapped, “I’m not a mechanic”. This woman is in her late 60’s early 70’s, came from Poland by herself with one child, started a family here in America working several jobs. She tells me stories how she did everything because her husband was not good at things or just wouldn’t do it, like mowing the lawn or fixing the car. She dropped the kids to sitters so she could work a 12 hour shift to help put food on the table. She loved her children and always made sure they had what they needed. One child lives next door to her now, which is the son that was talking to her this morning, the other son lives with her after his divorce. Her advice to me often in the last year is, “Don’t start doing things, then he will stop doing them because he knows you can. Let him mow the lawn it will keep him busy.” She would always add “trust me”, with a thick polish accent.

I wanted to reach over the fence and tell him to stop talking to her like that. I wanted to tell him he was going to regret it someday. One day he will hear someone else talking to their parents like that and a flashback will come in reminding him of how disrespectful he was to his mother. He will regret it and feel a sadness. He will pray his kids never treat him that way and that they respect the life he lived, for them. I know you love her. Because I have seen how you take such great care of your own kids.

While Dad was alive I wish I practiced the PAUSE more often.

Pause…Let him be right.

Pause…let him tell you what to do.

Pause…let him feel in control of his home and life.

We are teaching our children how to treat us when we are elderly.

Pause…and think about how much you love them.

Happy Birthday Dad! I hope you know how much you were appreciated and loved. Even if I was always right (wink wink). I love you every day!

Dad’s first selfie ❤ He was 72, always learning new things!

Dads first selfie