I sat down this morning to write with tears in my eyes about a bad night with Wes that just sucked me in and chewed me up and spit me out into a million depressed little pieces. But it’s really no longer a story I can share in detail in this kind of forum. With E and Nikki I just knew when it was time to stop telling the details of their stories without discussing it with them first, and this is one of those days.
But the point? I will be starting the long and painful process – AGAIN – of finding him a therapist. We did this a couple of years ago but the clinic he went to shut down without warning and I just kept putting it off since he was doing better.
This time though, I’ll call the Pediatrician first. If you’ll recall the last time, you all questioned why I didn’t make that my first step and I felt dumb because that NEVER OCCURRED to me as I had spent a years suffering with a Pediatrician with a not-so-great bedside manner. He mocked me for concern with Nikki’s stomach issues and Wes’s leg cramps because I kept coming back even though it was “just stress” and “just growing pains.” So the thought of him as a trustworthy consult never crossed my mind.
But it’s different now! We have a Pediatrician I trust. I’m going to call and I’m going to try not to cry on the phone (Which I did at every step of the way last time) and we’re going to get some help because the bad days/moments may be more spread out, but their severity have increased and I am no longer strong enough to control his destruction. Both physically and emotionally.
So I’m sitting her at my laptop in the dark, in front of Donnie’s computer which has a stock imagery background of a beautiful beach and I look at the blue sky and limitless horizon and I tell myself: TODAY WILL BE A GOOD DAY.
I have talked before about how – some days – I hate the suggestion that we can so easily simply Choose Joy. Because many MANY days it’s not that easy. And honestly? Today is one of those days. I feel burdened with the weight of problems I can’t control. I worry about the damage that my child – a product of my body and my parenting – can inflict and I carry the blame for all of that like I’m the one screaming the words and causing the pain. I haven’t slept well in a while and while therapy has helped me give up my season pass to Depression World – I still have these days where it’s like I’m purchasing a Single Day Use pass ans the rides make me cry and the food is terrible. There is no laughter in Depression World and the mascot is me…walking in a One Woman Parade and carrying a sign that says, “I give up.”
But that damn picture somehow gives me hope. There are places untainted by my anxiety and sadness. I’m not darkening the world with my depression. So I just need to remember those places exist. Those moments exist. This One Woman Parade Of Sadness is just temporary. I have a plan. I’m getting us all help. There’s always coffee. And I’m going to run tonight if it kills me. I’m going to try to find a running buddy to hold me accountable because I need that run like I need oxygen. I’m going to color awhile in my bullet journal.
I can’t necessarily Choose Joy when I’m marching the the World’s Most Depressing Parade, but I can at least put down the “I Give Up” sign. I can recall memories of brighter parades with balloons and candy. There are always blue skies and endless horizons somewhere. As much as I like to think the world revolves around me, it does not. I can make it through this. I may not Choose Joy today, as it will never be that easy. But today I Choose Survival. I Choose Action. I Choose Coffee. I Choose Coloring Books. I Choose To Run.
Let’s do this thing.