I have just deleted 6107 emails from my inbox. All messages, or comments that were important to me. Things i wanted to respond to. One of them was probably from you.

I am not saying that i am going to get better at responding to people. Or commenting. Or communicating. Communication is key and the very hardest thing for me.

I just needed to get rid of that guilt.

I'm sure there was an offer to give me thousands of dollars in there that had nothing to do with anybody living in a foreign country and needing to deposit money into my bank account.

I am attempting to tip the scales in my favour by relieving stress.

No christmas baking? Pshaw. It's just bad for you, beside i have a stockpile of Vermont Nut Free chocolates for the kids.

Way less presents? Makes everybody appreciate what they have more.

Shoddy wrapping jobs? Phplth. You're just going to rip the paper off anyway.

Too many christmas specials on TV while mom naps? Priceless.

All of this also means while i had every good intention of sending out christmas cards to every single one of you who sent me one, i just can't do it. I love every card. The kids and i marvel at them. Lot's of "gee mom, you're popular!"

and "Can i have my own website?"

We are still battling the flu and colds and hoping not to subject my beautiful new nephew to our plague over the weekend. I am snotty and barky, but interestingly, full of life.

Shedding the burden of responsibility this holiday season. Enjoying my family. Enjoying you.

Thank-you for everything.

The weather here has been unbelievable. We have had more hours without power than with in the last three weeks. We are bracing for a major storm tonight with winds expected up to 100km an hour. When the storm starts we are planning on evacuating from our house because of all the huge trees surrounding us that have been loudly cracking and dropping huge branches over the past few days. Our road is littered with branches and debris, so much so that it is difficult to drive on.

Yesterday i read "Life Interrupted" by Spalding Gray. I loved Spalding Gray. His humour, his sadness, his anxiety, his love of children and gentle nature. The book, although very sad, was inspiring. How he is remembered so fondly. The deep impact he had on people and their lives.

It has left me melancholy, but ready to work on my novel again. To reach out and grasp at the small, beautiful things in life.

I went out for beer with a very old friend last night. We talked, mostly, about me. My hesitation about therapy. My distrust of the whole field of psychiatry and psychology. Bad experiences i have had. He convinced me to give it a try.

I owe it to myself, my family, my friends to do everything i can to be well. To live this life in the best way i can. To walk quietly and gently instead of sadly.

My power has just come on after a 10 hour outage. A giant windstorm swept through my little village. Trees fell everywhere, including in my yard.

We came home for a few moments, then evacuated in fear of giant fir trees falling on the house.

I have so many christmas cards i am planning on rolling naked in them.

I am okay. I called the doctor. Shane made an intervention. I am seeking therapy.

I am scared. To come out from behind this curtain. I am weak.

I am doing this for him. For you.

I am going to be better.

I am ready, so ready, to be happy.

Thank you everybody.

You know that cliche of the person who gets drunk at the office party and ends up dancing on the table?

That's me!

Two years in a row i have been the drunkest person, by far, at our school parent and staff christmas party.

I managed to hold out until after i made a speech and handed out gifts and christmas bonuses, but then! It was drunk jess. All drunk, all the time.

I wore my extra high heels again and a beautiful dress. I danced, i had fun. I made out with another mom as my special talent so that i could steal her gift. All kinds of laughter and jokes ensued. At the end of the night i leaned against other board members to hold me up. They passed me around like a paper doll.

Then shane carried me home.

Shane's band played. See.

That's him thinking "who the hell is she dancing with now?"

I am preparing myself for merciless teasing in the morning. But, it was fun.

And we have a christmas tree.

Here's me, hungover, in my extra special custom t-shirt from debbie. I love debbie.

I have recieved many cards.

I am very thankful.

Love is what i have been waiting for.

I just want someone to hug me. To wrap their arms around me and make everything okay.

I have been thinking a lot the past couple days about how much i share here. The parts of the picture that are missing. The things i don't talk about. The things i talk a lot, too much, about. I'm not sure where the balance is. How i can give a more complete picture of my life.

As i sat in the kitchen preparing dinner this evening and the kids bustled in and out on a continual basis i had to take a step back for a moment. Sit in the middle of the floor, clutching my heart, over-flowing with this immense love. The details of my life that i can't possibly put into words.

How tristan hangs around me like a little shadow, aching to always be close, learn every little thing she can. How toby will often get stuck in the middle of a thought, repeat a word over and over holding his place in the conversation until he gathers his thoughts. Sometimes when he can't get his thoughts together he'll just stop and say "so mom, how was your day?" How eliza asks me the same question every single day, "is my water from lunch old?" How whenever parker and i are alone and i lift him into his carseat he'll lean in close and plant the most perfect kiss on my lips.

I have had a very difficult day. Immensely sad about so many things. My book. Mostly my book. All the words i lost and how hard it is to start again. I sit and look at the screen and nothing comes out. I woke up this morning with swollen eyelids and a heavy heart.

But, at the end of the day, those little moments in my life. Getting to watch these four fabulous creatures grow and learn and love. That's what really matters. That's what keeps me walking a straight line.

Continue reading "take these gifts" »

I am trying. I am really trying.

I want everything to be okay. Just okay. Is that so much to ask for?

I have been "medicated" for three months. Or even more. I can't even recall.

Shitty things. Shitty days.

Things i can't talk about. Things i can't talk about because they are too painful.

I spent the morning getting an initial assesment for toby. A developmental assesment. It went well. Except that he was there. It was hard, so hard, to talk about his shortcomings. Flaws. Delays. Problems. With him sitting there. He became more fidgety every second. Climbing on chairs. Covering my mouth with his hands.

Asking, begging, me to go back to school.

And we did. The pediatrician has asked for a psycho-educational assesment. The only problem? The $2000 that stands between us and that assesment. I grabbed my heart, literally, when she told me.

Might as well cancel christmas. And food.

I am at a crossroads. Do i do what i think is right, causing significant stress to my spouse and family, or do i let my son slip through the cracks.

Easy right? Try living with that. With that husband.

And so it is the middle of the month. We are sitting in the middle of a west coast storm. Streets are flooding. Trees are falling. Power is flickering, going out, and we are cold. The light of a laptop computer guiding us home.

I am missing. Missing friends. Missing not writing a novel. Missing phone calls.

Cryptic today.

I like to not rake leaves. I like my whole yard covered in a blanket of colours. It's comforting and quiet. Kind of like snow.

I like to eat crackers and cheese for lunch, today was triscuits and cheddar.

I like the smell of sweat. Sweat from that day, not yesterday.

I have one pair of pants that fit me and today i got latex paint on them.

I have a wish. I wish that all of you will send me a christmas card so that i feel less lonely.

I spent a lovely half an hour yesterday talking to the fabulous jenb. Talking to her is like going into your favourite home, comfortable, cozy and easy.

We chatted about kids and blogs and drugs. Notably, the medication i am taking and how, perhaps, it's not quite working for me. My anxiety has all but disappeared. But. But, i am still depressed.

Not all the time. But, pretty much every day my mood cycles through the highest highs and lowest lows. Most evenings i sit alone at the computer, listening to music, overcome by sadness. The type of sadness that has slowly been eating away at my overall well being. My ability to trudge through the days.

Summer has gone, fall has gone. Did i enjoy them? Am i doing everything i can to make this sadness as bearable as possible. I know it will always be around, under the surface. I have come to accept that. But, i need to knock it down a few notches. Put it away for awhile.

And so i will look into increasing the medication i am on or adding another or perhaps switching. The thought of those options sacres me. I am used to the medicine i'm on now. I don't have brain shivers. I can look at food and often even eat it and enjoy it. My only lasting, and probably permanent, side effect is trouble sleeping.

So, all i have to do now is call the doctor, make an appointment and actually go. Hopefully alone. Not with four fighting kids.

It is raining. Typical westcoast rain, thundering down for days on end. The farmer's fields are flooded. Gardens that were still blooming last week are shuddering and fading in the sogginess. The kids can't go outside and run around at recess. Instead they play puzzles and giggle and get crazier every hour.

The combination of shorter days and lack of physical exercise is making my house a crazy place.

We spent the afternoon at the skating rink. Racing around freestanding, with bars and with parker and eliza in cozy coupe cars. They are sedated and happy now, drinking hot chocolate watching television.

My novel is coming along. This writing here everyday for NaBloPoMo is a cinch in comparison.

50,000 words is sitting in front of me like a giant daunting mountain.

I have gotten through the hardest part of the story. The painful part.

I have been leaving the house every night, driving around listening to music for awhile, gathering my thoughts, then sitting at the side of the road or on the waterfront. Looking over Saanich Inlet and writing for hours on end.

Typing, erasing, typing.

More and more words. Sometimes they spill forth. Other times it is painful and slow. But, i am determined to finish this. For myself.

To write the only novel ever written in 30 days in a minivan.

And so i am wondering why i am ending another week on a low note. What is it about fridays that makes me want to curl up in the fetal position, turn on Band of Horses, and cry myself into a deep, long sleep.

I have no answers.

Please accept this little tidbit from my NaNoWriMo book in exchange for a pass on any more navel-gazing on my part. Actually, this is navel-gazing at it's finest. These words may be slightly familiar to some of you.

Don’t we all feel sad sometimes? Aren’t the struggles of life overwhelming for all of us? At least some of the time?

Alone in the world.

No, i didn't figure out my camera. I returned it and bought a new one. If you are a Mac user, buy Canon products. Endorsement free.

I have taken a break from talking about me.

My life has been busy.

I am doing well. No sleep. Food? Going down okay. Except now i am obsessed with my weight.

This should really be in bullets shouldn't it?

I am in the middle of getting an official diagnosis for toby so that i can access some well needed grant dollars. I am more than sad and confused by this decision.

But, the more i talk to his teachers, therapists and the principals at the school, the more i understand that there is something there.

But, there is also something about labels. Speech therapy is one thing. But, a son who is still not completing his grade one learning outcomes, is falling behind in other subjects, is harder to handle and generally letting us know that something is up. That is a whole other thing.

I am so worried about putting a label on him. It is fine now. Or it would be fine in our current school and situation, but, he has the rest of his life after that. The decision i make now could very well change the path he takes.

It is harder than i can say to take this step.

And that is all i have to say today.

Someone searched my blog for dumbstein. I love that word and plan to use it daily from now on.

I am such a dumbstein.

Fall has fallen over my valley. Chilly days. Short days. Dark in the morning when i wake up. Rain every night. Driving to school all the cows and ponies born in the spring look down forlornly at the dewy cold ground.

Last night i lay in bed, my heart full of despair, my brain rattling horrible thoughts.

I felt as though i needed help. I imagined checking myself into the hospital. How i could explain that to my children, the people who see me everyday.

I woke up this morning feeling a little better. A long sleep, made more easy by some clonazepam.

I am trudging through these days.

There has been a cougar in our yard. It killed all my chickens, except for three. My lovely stanley is still alive. Watching over the two last americauna hens. They refuse to go in the coop or the safety of their houses. They disappear at dusk every night. I search the yard and the trees with a flashlight. Hoping to find them. Get them to safety. I never find them. I go out every morning. Listening for stanley's little old english chatter. Hoping they are still alive.

They are. For now.

I've been thinking today about my life. How my life, the little paths i take every day, are exactly the same as so many other people. People fortunate enough to live this privileged life.

What the hell makes me so sad.

Why do i have to go through this. Isn't living through hard times, bad things, bad people enough. Can't i just be happy.

I am overcome with sadness today. I am back at the bottom.

I desperately don't want to be here.

I am participating in NaNoWriMo. Perhaps this is a good mood to start my planning for that from. Perhaps not.

I am hoping this will be a rapid downward cycle. That i will feel better again soon.

I am travelling safe out of the night.

I will update from many airports.

Including, but not liited to, victoria, vancouver, seattle, chicago and finally, miami, fourteen hours later.

I am carrying all my luggage close to me, because god knows it would be lost in this hellish day of free airline tickets at the cost of many transfers.

Hopefully none of my planes will crash or fly into buildings.

xxoo

Why hello world.

I have spent a marvelous four day weekend with my children. Shane is away in that place where the streets have no name. That's philadelphia right? I hope so, because that's where he is.

Though these kids drive me crazy. They fight. They pull each other's hair out. They won't do anything happily except watch tv or play with their damn webkinz™. Single parenting is hard, but at the same time - so easy. We all sleep together, doggie pile style, in my bed. I put them to bed early, so that i can be alone with my yellow tail, and wake them up early to facilitate the early bed. I nap while sesame street is on. We walk around the block marvelling at all the colours that leaves come in. We play in the sandbox at school. Eat fast food for dinner and watch the moon come out.

Tonight we rode our bikes to a playground with a pretend fire truck. We played an hour long game of firefighters with an aircraft carrier. Parker was fire chief. Every time he shouted "fire!" tristan, toby, eliza and i would jump off and fly around the field. We played until the dusk settled and i began to worry about cougars.

Now, they are in bed. I am mentally preparing for my trip to miami. Yes, i am going. I bought a new dress. I am travelling for twelve hours thursday. I will spend 2 1/2 days at the Eden Roc Resort. Then i will spend twelve hours flying home.

I went to the doctor today. All is well. I will remain at the dosage i am at. I will get my appetite back. I am four pounds away from my wedding weight. I am going to read the alchemist. I'm sure i'm the last one to read it. But i am excited about that. Today i had a phone message from jenB! All is well.

Except the chickens. Some critter has been killing them. Scratching it's way into the coop. I have found the gross remnants of eight chickens this week. I only have five left. Poor chickens.

It's canadian thanksgiving this weekend, because we like to do everything a little differently.

This year we are not eating our own turkey. We're not even having turkey, just a small roast chicken with my four lovely children and my beautiful husband.

I have so many things to be thankful for this year. Mostly, i am thankful for effexor. The rain has started in earnest. We might get a little bit of snow at some point, but from now till may it's pretty much rain and days that never get fully light. I am also thankful that my children are all healthy, and i, for the most part have been a good mother to them.

Last night at dinner eliza looked at me with her big brown eyes wide open shaking her head earnestly;

"mom, you know what carter says all the time in kindergarten? Fucking."

Tristan and toby's jaws nearly hit the floor.

Still shaking her head earnestly, with no trace of a smirk "he does. really."

I am so thankful for those big brown eyes, the innocence of youth and the word fucking coming out of the sweetest five year old girl in the world.

I am still feeling better. I need to know that.

In the past few months i have been plagued by so many confusing thoughts. Thoughts on love. On children. On death.

When i was in grade 12 i saw a 12 year old boy die right in front of me.

We were walking home from school. The same path we walked morning in and afternoon out, day after day, and rainy vancouver month after rainy vancouver month.

The man who hit him? He had been out drinking all night and all day. It was 3:00 in the afternoon in an affluent suburb. We were a line of children walking home to our "little box houses."

I was next in line.

There were actually two of them. Two twelve year old boys. One died. One was sentenced to a life in a wheelchair as a two year old. I'm not sure which is worse.

Anyway, at the time i couldn't understand why a man would be drunk in the middle of the day.

He was drunk because his wife had left him. He was heartbroken. He spent the next 15 years in jail. Living with the knowledge that he killed a boy before his life even started. Not to mention the other boy whose loved ones lives were altered completely that day.

Now that i am older, and have loved, i have more compassion for that man. I can understand, but not forgive, the actions that led him to that day.

So, i have been thinking about my life. The things i have seen and done. The points in my straight line of life that have taken a sharp turn. Every turn making it harder for me to see straight. The small comments, the large events. All of them.

I am aware with my children of every word i say. Every hug i don't give. Every "i love you" i don't say.

These are all moments that could be turns in their lives.

I'm feeling much better. I'm feeling much better. I am feeling much better.

I want to say the clouds have parted and the sun is shining again. But, it's not that simple.

I feel more normal, more like myself than i have in months. I am feeling, i hesitate to say it, happy. I feel happy for lots of moments throughout the day.

The weather has been beautiful. Sun shining down on beautiful fall colours. The kids are happy.

When i was lying with parker tonight trying to lull him into sleep, he wasn't all that sleepy. He was trying to get me to stop pretending it was sleepy time. He asked me "would you like me to rub your back?"

In that moment i felt like i could die happy. My little son, picking up my small ways of making him happy and sleepy, trying to pass them back to me. Showing me he loved me.

I have been so unhappy for so long now. I haven't felt this much pain. Ever. Last time i was depressed i didn't have children. I had nothing to live for. There is nothing more painful than knowing that you do have something to live for, even when you don't want to.

Smiling faces in the morning, expecting care and love, are like poison to the sad heart.

I am thankful for all of you. I am thankful for all these words i have shared. I am beyond grateful for shane and my children for loving me like they do.

I am not beyond knowing that i may wake up in the morning feeling like crap again. But, i have felt good for a couple of days now.

To know me is hard.Thank you for knowing me and listening to me.

Walk around with bold legs.

It's no secret i love wolf parade. Perhaps because i know them all from my starry eyed youth in victoria. Perhaps because that song speaks so many words to me. Words that i can't say. Perhaps because i think it's the best song i've ever heard.

suebob said that i was like a dandelion. Strong, but fragile. I am.

I have a follow-up doctor appointment soon. I know he will ask me how i am. Can you laugh and can you cry? That's his barometer. I can laugh. I laugh all the time. At camp people chastised me that my loud laugh kept them awake. Can i cry?

No.

How do i feel? Melancholoy mostly. I still feel like me. Just a sadder, quieter version.

I have no anxiety. That's a good thing.

My sadness pumps through me. I don't even know what i am sad about. Beautiful children. Beautiful house. Husband who loves me more than i deserve to be loved.

I guess, if i am to be honest, and that is what this is all about - i am sad about all the things i am not. I'm not the mother i want to be. I don't have the friends i want to have. I am alone. I am always alone. I can spend my days at the school. But, i'm not in kindergarten. And i'm not a teacher. I'm just the mom that is always there. Playing with the kids. Ignoring her house and the life that she doesn't have there.

Shane is travelling again. He's away most of this week and then he's off to Philadelphia for five days. Then? Then i will meet him in miami next friday. Four days alone. Me and him.

We haven't been alone, well, since 1997. I don't even want to go. His business had enough points to fly me out to meet him there. At his bootcamp.

Really, i like when he's away. I like the lessening of my burden. I like it when it's just me and the kids.

I'm not ready to travel again. Going to california this summer sent me into this depression. I don't feel ready to do it again.

My very favourite part of this time of year, which has thankfully turned into a beautiful and warm early fall, is watching the canada geese making their practice flights before they take off for the winter. Training the young geese before their long journey warms my heart.

I also love the colours and the smells. Warm days followed by breezy cool evenings.

I'm feeling better. My steps are a little lighter, my heart doesn't weigh me down as much. I can see in all the colours and sounds of happy children dancing in falling leaves that, although winter is just ahead, spring will come again after that. And that makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. I am going to be okay.

I will find my way through the long, wet winter and i will spend lazy afternoons at the lake again later.

My head still aches and throbs, my dreams are filled with tiny tremors in my brain that wake me up throughout the night. My hands shake with hunger, yet food repulses me. Everyone assures me this too shall pass. I can't do handstands or cartwheels anymore. Something that i used to do every afternoon with the other kids at school. I haven't done a flip or belly drop on the trampoline in months. Lots of the little things that brought me childlike glee have been stolen from me.

I can still run races and search for little tickly spots. I can hold hands with a frightened kindergartener and assure him that everything will be okay and tell him that yes, i would like to come to your house to play. I can cherish the small moments of childhood giggles. I can do that again.

My family is not well. Tristan is sick. Parker won't sleep. I'm tired and i just want more than fifteen minutes alone.

It seems like so much to ask. Fifteen minutes. I could tell you so much.

So many words left unsaid.

But, tristan is not well. And she's big. She's nine.

I snuggled in beside her tonight, rubbing her sore tummy. Noticing that as we spooned together her feet hit my ankle.

I rubbed her sore belly, told her that i loved her and everything would be okay.

I can't remember the last time i climbed into bed with her. When shane goes away she sleeps with me and parker. Replaces shane. Poor girl.

Where has my life gone? How is it that i have this gigantic, beautiful girl, with the long brown hair snuggled up beside me.

How come i am so lucky?

I have family visiting. My house is clean, the kids rooms are clean, and my freezer is full of spaghetti sauce and homemade chicken soup. I am being walked around like i'm made of thin glass. Fragile and careful. I'm aware of how quiet i am, how tired i may or may not look, how short my patience is, and how all of the sudden my failings as a homemaker are showing. But, despite it all it is nice to be taken care of.

Tonight at dinner, a dinner made with love, parker refused to eat. Proclaimed it "gross." He left the table in a huff. I went to the kitchen with him and he had a classic parker temper tantrum and proceeded to hit me, try to bite me, and call me "stupid mommy." He closed in and bit me hard on the thigh. By instinct i pushed him away. I knew right away when i heard a snap and he instantly turned blue and started crying.

I asked shane to check his mouth. Shane was mad. At me. Parker's front tooth was broken. Half of it gone. Left in my pants and fleshy thigh.

I have never felt like a worse mother. My beautiful son. Missing half of his front top tooth.

The all school campout was an amazing adventure in fun, sleep deprivation and anxiety.

The first day was filled with so much fun. I loved every single minute of it. Laughter and games, obstacle courses and spaghetti, endless games of jess verses all the kids under eight tag, and campfire songs.

Eliza, toby and i slept together in a hut and tristan was further up in the woods in a tent with her two friends and their mom. All the kids were asleep by ten. As i heard the kids gently drift into exhausted snores you could hear the clink, clink of all the parents getting out bottles of wine and beer, chips and salsa and homemade goodies.

The parents seperated into two parties. One up top where the big kids were in tents and one down by the hut at the picnic table. We sat and we drank beer and yellow tail and we laughed at our children stories and the little moments of parenthood. Celebrating the fact that all our kids were asleep and we were without them, but together.

I forgot the fact that i haven't really eaten for a month and my body is full of medication. I got a little drunk. It filled me with anxiety and sadness. I wandered back and forth endlessly between the two campsites, saying hello to both parties. Trying to find tristan's tent in the dark woods. Sitting alone marvelling at the stars and watching all the little critters that bring the forest alive at night.

This is why people think i'm odd. I can't socialize for hours on end. I can socialize for minutes at a time before i need a break. I can talk for hours to one person that i am comfortable with. Shane is often half-way up the stairs to bed while i am still chatting away to him.

I went back to our picnic table and there was only a few parents left. The drunken mom of tristan's best friend laying down on my lap telling me how amazing i am and how much she loves me. Two a.m. became three a.m. Soon everybody went to bed. I wandered up to check on tristan one last time. My manic energy at night. It makes it impossible to go to bed.

When i was all alone and all the kids were asleep and the parents had drifted off into alcohol induced sleep i wandered around some more. I was overcome with the desire to call my brother in sweden. One last mom asked me who the hell i was calling, i told her shane. I would have, but i can't call home at four in the morning when my mother-in-law is sleeping there.

It's been almost two years since i drove my brother to the detox centre in vancouver. He had three seizures from alcohol withdrawal on the way there. He weighed less than one hundred pounds. He was going to die. I haven't called him on the phone since that day.

I saw him briefly when he visited from sweden this summer. But, we didn't really talk. Just the casual conversation that you can have while watching four children run and play.

I wanted to call him and tell him i was sorry. That i still love him and i carry him in my heart. That i see myself in him. That i can't talk to him anymore because i don't trust him and i don't want him to die. And if he does. I don't want to see it.

Of course, i couldn't call him. So i called my voicemail at home and listened to some messages. I sat alone in the field. I went to bed wondering how i could have had a day filled with so much fun and end up here sad and lonely in a field. I went to bed and snuggled in with eliza amidst the snores and complaints from twenty other children.

I slept for an hour.

Another day full of breakfast and fun. And a boy with an anaphylactic reaction to a wasp sting. An injection of adrenaline given by me, followed by a crazy drive to emergency. But that's a story for another day.

The strange thing about living on the west coast, aside from all the damn hippies, is the weather. We go through this long beautiful summer. Months without rain. Beautiful places to go and fun things to do. Beaches, lakes, mountains, trees. Every summer there are forest fires and burning bans. And then the rain begins. And it rains for eight long months. Eight long months of dark and dreary days.

The rain has begun. Two weeks ago we were spending lazy afternoons at the lake. Swimming and basking in the sunshine. Now we are bundled up in jeans and raincoats and rainboots. Or, in the case of the damn hippies, wool socks with birkenstocks and shorts.

The rain doesn't bother me. It's the darkness and gloom that surrounds it. Empty playgrounds and packed shopping malls. I hate the mall. People wandering endlessly, spending hard earned money on crappy things made by people who have crappy lives.

I started taking this medication in the sunny, summer months hoping that it would be effective in time for the long season of rain. It's not working yet. The side effects have diminshed enough that i feel more like myself, except for the restless sleep and brain shivers and the repulsivness of food. But, i still feel this overwhelming sadness. Not all the time. Sometimes i'm happy. Running endless obstacle races with the kids until i can barely move or breathe. Watching tv with my husbands arm around me listening to the rain quietly fall outside, small moments of friendship.

But then i am sad. I need to sleep more, eat more and stop sitting up at night listening to sad songs while my family sleeps quietly and happily after long days of school and friends and laughter.

There's this thing that happens when you're sad and depressed for a long time. And when you're loved.

You want to ruin everything.

Destroy the thing that loves you.

It's like suicide, but more painful.

I am trying so hard to be better. To be happy.

but, i'm not. And i love you. Dear internet that listens to all my complaints and applaudes me on my successes. And tells me how cute my children are.

I just want to talk to somebody and somebody keeps melting away.

I can't cry anymore. The drugs have stolen that from me.

And that would be a relief.

I have had a bad day.

And i know you're tired of my bad days and you want good stories. The stories i tell, full of hope and appreciation.

I want that too.

I'm sorry.

I'm feeling a little better. Save for the fact that i can feel my hair growing. Every single follicle on my head is electricly charged.

And i feel like i am living on another planet. Sitting outside myself watching the world go on around me. Am i happy yet? No. I have moments of clarity. Little tiny moments where we marvel at the gigantic dragonfly that died a painful death in the netting of our trampoline. And parker asks me again about death.

"what happens when you die mommy? do we eat you?"

The complicated mind of my almost three year old. It pulls me out of the fog in many brief moments throughout the day.

Yesterday morning we were in the shower together and he asked me about my tattoo and tried gently to scrub it off my belly. We melted into a giggly fit of tickles and giggles.

But, i still feel the foggy gloom of sadness and the complicated business of being grown-up. I have been spending most of time at the school, becoming part of the kindergarten class. Me and parker. It keeps me busy and happy to be a part of all the smiling faces, grubby hands stained with oil pastels and flaking bits of glue.

On friday night i was laying in bed, not sleeping, thinking that it was time to stop being so damn self-absorbed. Begin writing about the important things again. Like kids.

Like how eliza started kindergarten with glee. How she has danced around the house all weekend, happy and excited. Planning what she's taking for sharing (show & tell) and what she's going to have her reading buddy teach her. How the school has embraced her allergies and made it a safer place for her than our own house.

How tristan has moved "upstairs" at the school. Into a grade 4,5,6 class. How she's the youngest one in it, but the quickest to solve all the math problems. How the year is full of promise and challenge for her.

How toby is in a class with all his bestest friends. How he runs out of the car every morning so excited to see and play and learn. How he has lost his voice from all the excitement.

How parker has strep throat. Poor parker.

Instead, after my doctor appointment on friday i came home with a very expensive prescription for 150mg. effexorXR.

I took the first one yesterday and then spent most of the day feeling like i was going to die. In bed. I made it downstairs for a few hours and then stumbled back up to bed for a restless, twitchy 12 hour sleep.

I woke up this morning still feeling like someone had taken the cuisinart to my brain, yet, feeling strange electric shocks here and there in my frontal lobes. I read some websites on effexor and how it is killing me.

What the hell am i doing to myself? How am i going to make it through this week.

Shane is worried and loving and sweet. I asked him last night to just hold me in his arms. He did, for hours. I am going to take a little break while i adjust and freak out. I am going to spare you from these intimate, self-absorbed posts.

We have spent a few small hours of our time watching crocodile hunter. A few nights ago i was watching tv and shane said "steve irwin just died."

It took me a few minutes to figure out what he was talking about. And then a few more to comprehend the ferocity of the internet that we knew before his wife did. The news of his death was on the internet witihin 90 minutes. That freaked me out.

Not that it takes much to freak me out nowadays. I just had an anxiety attack on the balcony after a brief conversation about enrollment at the school.

As such, i have recently taken a clonazepam and i am having to concentrate REALLY hard to type this. I'm having trouble. How about some stats?

Yes!

• 11 pounds lost
• day 20 of effexor
• still seeing bright lights all night long
• libido hovering at zero
• social anxiety still at 10
• after initial stomach flu, back to constipated

Awesome! Makes you want to try it right? Dr. appointment friday where we will double again to, hopefully, desired dosage of 150mg/per day.

It was a day and what a day it was.

Last night going through my old photos i was struck by that old cliche of how time just sneaks by you. The days are so long, but the years so fast. Three kids in school. How the hell did this happen to me?

Eliza was fine, great. Excited and ready. Full of anticipation. When i asked her about the best part she said;

"I'm excited to learn new things."

Really. It was a perfect day.

We spent the afternoon at the lake enjoying the last few hot, hot days before fall comes. Playing with friends. Balancing on logs. Building (and wrecking) sandcastles.

Dinner of tacos, everybody's favourite, and toasts of high points of the day, and the best parts of summer, and the most exciting thing about school starting.

This morning in some sort of revelation i realized that i needed to pick up my socks. Both the ones on my children's floors and the figurative ones in my brain.

If i want my heart to feel better, have some joy in my life again, i need to open myself up to it. The thing about being depressed is that it's all too easy to wallow in the muddy waters of despair. To let everything and every step you take be preceeded by an assumption of sadness.

I need to let my steps be preceeded by sunshine.

Right now parker is sitting monkey style on my lap hugging me. He came over and asked me; "are we going to die?"

The depth of emotion he feels and the intellect of his questions blow my mind. But then moments later he comes up with his chorus of poopy talk; "the poop went over the mountain...poop, poop, poop."

He is what i am thinking of when i think of sunshine. This little bundle of joy and anger, frustration and giggles.

I don't really watch television. I have my favourite shows - most of which are cable only, once yearly things, weeds, huff (cancelled?), the sopranos...

Shane has been getting in the habit of watching tv while the kids are still up, a habit which i glare at. Anyway, tonight he and tristan were watching south park when i hear tristan ask;

"what's sodomy?"

Yes. I dare you to answer that one for a nine year old.

Anyway. A long time ago i got a lovely email from a fellow asking me if i'd read a book (about dogs) and then , if i wanted, tell my readers about it. By now i'm sure you've heard about it because amy wrote about it, but because the proceeds go towards the dogs (and cats) i'm all over it.

Here's my dog:

So, the book is Duke's Tails - Duke Finds A Home.

I have a bunch of copies to giveaway. And i really want to do this. So, send me your address, by email and i'll send you the book, plus i'll add a donation to the canadian SPCA to match it.

The one side effect of the de-pprexor i hadn't counted on was the constipation. Oh my good god.

Normally, meaning my entire life up until this point, i have been one of those irritable bowel types. It's my natural red-headedness. It makes me weak and sensitive to all the rigors of life, particularly all the food in the world that is good and delicious. Especially the wine and the cheese. Being stubborn, and red-headed, i have always eaten what i wanted and felt the burden of my thick headedness in the bathroom every morning. Several times.

But, in the past two weeks all that has changed. I feel a little heavy with it, literally. I feel like the characters in that Spalding Gray story who go to russia and don't realize that all the coffee is decaf and can't figure out why they just can't take a shit in the morning.

But, alas, the drug company promises me that this too shall pass. In the meantime i will keep up with my high fibre, sprouted wheat diet and hope for the best.

I have been keeping myself very busy. Busy has seemed to help. School starts in one week. One week, and i'm terrified. Although in many ways this has been the summer of my undoing, it has also been the summer that was.

The summer that i left my family for the first time, the summer that i accepted my craziness and decided to do something about it. The end of summer means the beginning of the long lonely winter.

I have committed to the masters swim club and many long mornings with just parker. And, my god, have i told you lately how much i love him.

I am feeling? Better? I'm not really sure. The last time i tried to take any kind of anti-depressants i remember a distinct out of body sensation that i couldn't stand. This time, a whole new breed of drugs. After the first week, which really sucked, i am now feeling a little more like myself. A little bit foggy during the days and wide awake at night. Even when i sleep, my mind is racing with colours and thoughts. Bright spots that keep me awake all night.

I'm also a little obsessed with eating. I open the fridge at frequent intervals and can't think about eating anything. As a result my fridge is empty. My poor kids. Tonight we had refried beans and cheese on sprouted wheat tortillas. They were thrilled. I haven't been so disgusted by food since pregnancy, but even then i could keep on eating because, you know, the baby.

Anyway, i think i've entered a new stage of side effects. A little manic, yet not sad! Enjoy.

I've felt better before, but i've felt worse too. Tomorrow i double my dosage. I'm a little nervous about that as i still have these annoying aches in my head.

My heart is a little lower today. I lost five pounds this week. Not that that would be so annoying, except that i know i would feel a little better, a little less queasy and tired if i could eat.

I took the kids out shopping for back-to-school supplies today. I always try and make these milestone, turning point events, special in some way. In a week and a half eliza will start kindergarten. Tristan will be in grade four and toby in grade 1/2. Eliza has never been away from me before because of her peanut/tree nut allergies. This is a momentous thing for our little family.

She's more than a little nervous. I was too, until effexor obliterated many emotions from my brain. Now, i'm just anxious that i haven't done all the things i have to to get the school ready for her. She picked out her first backpack (strawberry shortcake), lunchbox (tinkerbell) and pencil case (disney princess). My kids have never seen any disney movies because i hate them, the movies - not my kids, so her choices were really based on what was prettiest and pinkest. And i think, fingers crossed, she's getting excited and is going to make it through this ordeal.

Parker insisted that he was going to school too ( he's not) and ended up with a "cars" backpack and lunchbag and a backyardigans pencil case. He kept saying "i'm ready to go to school mommy! without you!" When i explained to him that he would go to preschool and not to his brother and sisters school he pouted his lip and asked "what about A?"

A. is the principal at the kids school and their swim teacher. They adore him and apparently it was more important to parker that he be there than any other member of his family.

This really set parker off and as i was trying to get him into his carseat he lunged forward and bit me on the shoulder drawing blood and pulled out a big chunk of my hair all the while yelling "Dumb mommy! I don't love you!"

Normally i would let this behaviour slide off my shoulders. But, at that moment, i had had enough of fighting this week. Enough of doing my best. Just wishing that my best could be easier. That i could laugh at parker's craziness like i used to. Sad that he hurt me so much. And for the first time all week i started to cry.

I climbed into the drivers seat, took a deep breath and turned around to see the pale and worried face of my beautiful oldest daughter, tristan. She knows. She knows something is wrong. She knows when i need to sleep for an hour or more every afternoon and pay her a toonie to play with parker and lizey. When at dinner i eat nothing and walk away sadly when nobody eats what i make and all they do is complain. When all the things i used to laugh about, or shrug off make me turn away now.

I took them all out for japanese. All of our favourite. We had sushi and tempura and some cheers with icy waters to the beginning of another school year and the end of a summer full of lots of adventures.

My poor little parker is sick with the stomach flu.

As silly as it sounds i'm actually a little relieved. He needs me and i need him to need me. I'm still stinging from his anger at me for being less than perfect lately.

I knew as soon as i crawled into bed with him last night that he wasn't well. Aside from his fever i could smell the ketones on his breath. After he was sick i held him and rocked him. He would wake up every few minutes or so and ask me to sing him the "dumptruck song." A song that i change a little every time, but usually is sung to the tune of "itsy bitsy spider" and involves a construction site theme.

And so, i am actually feeling a little better.

The thing about changing your brain chemistry, which is exactly what i'm doing, is that your body fights it with everything it's got.

A friend asked me today how i was feeling, "i'm fine" i said. I really didn't know what to say, how to answer that question.

My brain is on fire and shooting me every second with little jolts of pain. I'm overwhelmed by every little thing in my life. All the little things that i have managed to keep together that make this family work. Shane came home tonight looking for dinner. I had nothing, had thought of nothing and had only managed to put the coffee on for myself for the morning. Because at least i have that. I have coffee.

The kids and i were wandering through my friends yard and exploring the woods in search of deer or some other adventure to fill these last, lazy days of summer. The grass was overgrown. Overgrown in a way that i love, not a backyard left to it's own devices by half-hazard gardening, but a backyard full of childhood freedom. A backyard that you could sit in and enjoy the laughter of kids romping through the tall grass.

As i was thinking how much i loved this backyard i realized that was it. That is how i am feeling. I was only thinking how perfect it was, not really feeling like i was even there.

I'm not liking this. I feel like some stepford wife project.

The idea of changing even the smallest little bit of who i am freaks me out. The way my head hurts and all my body wants to do is sleep, not even sleep, just lay comatose in my bed while i listen to toby and eliza play all the little games they have ritualized into their bedtime routine and parker snores softly beside me.

I guess that is the answer to "how are you?"

Continue reading "wiped out" »

I'm feeling like the little engine that could.

"I think i can (feel this crappy) for awhile longer
I hope i can (survive these crappy side effects) for awhile longer
I know i can (do this for me and the kids) until i feel better."

Luckily my life has been incredibly busy with general work for school, kids getting ready for school and trying to keep up with housework, that i have managed to stay focused, upright and awake for most of the day.

This afternoon parker asked me to play in the sand with him. All i could do was pull up a chair and stare at him moving pinecones and little hills of sand from backhoe to dumptruck and back again and admire his little banter he had going on between the dueling mighty machines.

They know something is amiss. It's not that anything is that different. We are still doing all the same fun things, going to all the amazing places our island has to offer - it's just that i'm only with them physically. Not pointing out every animal we see, picking up the frogs and dead snakes to inspect. Simply along for the ride.

When i put parker to bed tonight he called me "dumb mommy." His words stung so bad. A little piece of my heart floated away.

Oh what a weekend i have had, full of many annoyances and even, some laughter and tickle contests.

Things took a slight turn for the worse this afternoon when toby came screaming in the house "RATS! RATS! EVERYWHERE!"

Being very vermin-opposed shane and i hesitantly, yet immediately, got the story out of him. Apparently the large garden box i have outside the chicken coop where i store tarps, cleaning stuff and, most recently and brilliantly, hay for the nesting boxes, has become home to a very large family of rats.

Shane and i went to check it out and standing from a good distance with a broomstick in hand we opened the lid. And! RATS!! EVERYWHERE! They scurried deep within the box when we opened it, but we saw several, definitely more than a few. I leaned in a little closer to see if i could see anymore (why? why did i do that?) and one jumped out. Right at me! I screamed so loud and so much adrenaline shot through me that i pulled the muscles all up and down my sides.

That was fun.

Annoying things i have noticed this weekend but the drug companies assure me are normal:

It's funny how when people start to hear that you're a little crazy they have two reactions. First, they shower you with warmth and support; or two, they back slowly away from you and start turning down playdates with your kids.

"is it me, do i smell like sadness and neglect?"

Actually, i have noticed that i do smell. I smell funky when i take medicine. My body hates it.

I went back to my doctor today. My thyroid is normal, my iron alarmingly low - but to be expected for a woman who has had Lactational Amenorrhea for 8 years. Effexor is a go. Doubling the dosage after seven days and then again after two weeks if needed.

I'm totally freaked out. The clonazepam has been nice, but kind of unhelpful. I feel calmly depressed most of the time. If anything it intensifies my sadness because i don't have to deal with the anxiety.

I'm having a hard time finding words tonight. I am having trouble talking to the people who want to talk to me, to help me, because i am so uncomfortable talking. Trying to explain it.

I am okay.

I am dealing with this in the best way i can. I am doing everything i can to keep on being a good mother, to get back to the place where i was an excellent mother. I need space and time from the people who have expectations of me. I need to hide in my bed at times, to cuddle with my kids a little bit more, to let my husband love me and worry about me.

Mostly, and hardest of all, i have to keep living my life. Doing all the things i've always done. But, i also know, that keeping on doing those things will help me to feel better.

I hope.