those of you familiar with my blog, or even my life, know that i refer to my battle with depression as the "black dog". there are times when i feel that the dog and i have come to an understanding; i realize that when he is not with me, he is, in actuality, simply living in another room, waiting for his cue to come and join me.
for me, the key word in that last sentence is "cue".
depression is much easier to understand when it has been activated (or cued) by a particular event. when there appears to be no cue, and the dog comes running in anyways...well, that's when i tend to doubt my sanity. seriously.
the dog came to play a couple of weeks ago. for no good reason. he was ever-present for over a week, and then slowly started to retreat for increasing amounts of time, until he was no longer around.
i didn't tell anyone. not leo. not my dearest friends. no one.
my concentration was blown, my sleep was erratic, my mind was on over-drive, my anxiety was physically manifesting itself. so i doubled my meds, and i still kept the secret. (my acting skills are extremely good.)
why am i still hiding the dog from the people i love and trust?
maybe this public confesson of a private dance with the dog will help me the next time.
maybe next time, i'll ask one of you to join me in the dance.
my beautiful birthday boy. ian turned 7 last friday. here he is, holding one of the chocolate birthday cupcakes he made from scratch and iced himself.
ian has so many wonderful qualities. he is helpful and kindhearted ~loving and well-mannered. it devastates him to disappoint someone, and sometimes he is too quick to apologize (just like his mother). ian loves to cuddle, hug, hold hands, and smooch. he is patient and giving with other children. he's going to make some woman a wonderful husband someday!!!
my bond with ian was instantaneous ~ from the moment he was born, i was head-over-heels in love with him. i had such a difficult delivery with kate, and was so overwhelmed with mommy-hood, that i hadn't felt that spontaneous connection with her. i felt guilty about that for a long time ~ like somehow i had cheated her during her first few weeks on earth. i was worried about having another child, that maybe i wouldn't have enough love for my son. boy, was i wrong.
ian's recent accident has only increased my love for him (if that is even possible). he has grown weary over the past few weeks of me telling him just how much i adore him. but that's okay. can we ever tell our children how precious they are to us too often?
happy birthday ian. my love for you is limitless.
and thank you god, for the gift of my son. my gratitude to you is boundless as well.
my beautiful friend peggy emailed me the following quiz ~ which i took the liberty of editing a little bit. i was supposed to answer and forward the email, but instead i put it up here...
1. Where you named after anyone?i don't think so. but i know that if julie and i had been boys, we were going to be named "brett and bart", after the old maverick tv show.
2. When was the last time you cried? a few days after ian's accident.
3. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? i'd be crazy not to be!!!
4. Do you use sarcasm alot?see answer#3!
5. Would you bungee jump? absolutely not. it's a pointless and ridiculous exercise.
6. Do you think you are strong? only in certain circumstances.
7. What is your favorite ice scream? chocolate chip (not mint)
8. What is the first thing you notice about people? whether they are smiling or not
i haven't blogged in awhile. and i don't really have a particular topic in mind for this entry, so here are some odds and ends (and men, beware, i'm gonna talk about boobs here in a few seconds.)
*ian is doing well. a few days ago, he had stainless steel caps placed on the two teeth that were broken in the fall. his chin is looking pretty good. i've come to believe, over the past couple of weeks, that stitches in the chin are standard practice for all men. it seems as if every guy that ian has shown his battle scar to has had stitches in the same place. seriously. it's been rather sweet to hear all of their stories.
*i won a cricut! those of you who scrapbook know these are the coolest machines ever!!! unfortunately, the closer we get to heading back to school, the less time i have to be crafty. so, i sent my cricut home with dear jenn, who is certain to give it a good workout! (go jenn!)
*we have a "renegade" pumpkin growing at our house. last fall, after halloween, i placed the kids' pumpkins in the landscaping beds along the side of our house. they rotted there over the course of the winter and by late spring, had deposited a ton of seeds on the ground. in early may, i sat in the beds and meticulously picked up every pumpkin seed (or so i thought) and placed them in a ziploc bag ~ all with the intent of planting them, which of course i never did. i obviously missed one, because there among my daylilies, is a huge pumpkin plant. and this morning, low and behold, i found a "baby" pumpkin under the foliage. just a tiny green nubbin'. i'm hoping it stays healthy and grows into a happy adult.
*my boobs remain an enigma. even for victoria's secret. (men, you've already been warned. you can skip ahead if you want.) yesterday, i worked up enough courage and humility to be "officially" measured and fitted for a bra at victoria's secret. all the way to columbus i was praying, "dear god, don't let the girl who fits me be blond and skinny and pretty." worthless prayer. EVERY girl working at VS is gorgeous. and i'm ~ well ~ 40 years old with uneven boobs and pregnancy fat still hanging on my middle. (i mean, why couldn't someone sweet like pauline copeland get a job at VS? wouldn't she make you feel right at ease?) so anyways, i tell barbie that i want to get fitted for a bra and that i'm incredibly small-chested (which she could see anyways) and that my right boob is even smaller than my left boob. no problem, she says, what size bra are you wearing? 38A. she measured me, and sure enough, i was right. i take a 38A. the problem is, VS didn't have a 38A. they don't go that small. i had to take a 38B. so now, i look like i have boobs. which i don't. in reality, i have a very expensive VS bra with spectacular padding and a nice firm cup that makes me look more busty than i am. i am now guilty of perpetuating a fraud.
*youtube continues to remove my beloved bob ross's videos. i have, however, found this great site, which many of you may already know about: veoh. at veoh, i can continue to take my daily dose of bob along with my lexapro and remain completely mellow ~ at least for 30 minutes.
*to my fellow office fans out there ~ have you checked out "creed thoughts" on nbc.com? if you love the show, and you love creed, you will find these hysterical. (if you don't watch the office, and don't know who creed is, the humor will be lost on you.) a couple of his random "thoughts": "You say diabetes, I say diabetos." and "They should rename the Virgin Islands. That was an expensive mistake."
*i've decided that this is the most romantic scene in any movie i've ever seen. (and i've seen a lot of movies.) darcy walking across that field in the early morning light ~ ahhhhh!
*and finally, i was going to end this blog by complaining about some stuff. instead, i am going to leave you with this quote from the amazing henri nouwen, whom i love for a number of reasons, the chief of which are his humility and vulnerability. henri seemed to have me in mind when he spoke these words:
“For as long as you can remember, you have been a pleaser, depending on others to give you an identity. You need not look at that only in a negative way. You wanted to give your heart to others, and you did so quickly and easily. But now you are being asked to let go of all these self-made props and trust that God is enough for you. You must stop being a pleaser and reclaim your identity as a free self.”
"A religious man is a person who holds God and man in one thought at one time, at all times, who suffers harm done to others, whose greatest passion is compassion, whose greatest strength is love and defiance of despair." - Abraham Joshua Heschel
