Thursday, December 20, 2012

Forget Christmas,

TOMORROW is the hap-happiest day of the year. Why? Two words for you...


This is the day of the year that I look forward to all Autumn, ever since we moved to England. It's the shortest day of the year, with the sun rising after 8 am and setting about 3:30 pm. After tomorrow, the days start getting longer again. And that is a serious reason to rejoice!

The Christmas tree is finally up, and Edith had a great time decorating it. Dylan was more interested in jumping off the furniture and whining. The house is beginning to look a bit festive.

The kids have had their Christmas plays at school this week. They've also had their Christmas parties and will be doing a carol service at St. Mary's church tomorrow. It's the ward Christmas party tomorrow, too. It's been a very busy couple of weeks!

Edith is actually in bed right now, taking one of her very rare naps. She came home from school crying and exhausted, and climbed straight into bed without even having lunch. Poor baby--I hope she's not sick for Christmas.

The holidays are always difficult for me. Martin works very long hours, so I miss him. And I always think of my family back in Utah, and I miss them, too. December is really just a month to be gotten through, and January is the month to be enjoyed. Especially this coming January, as Martin will be taking a week off work. Hooray! But I'll do my best to make it magical for the children. And I AM loving the smell of fresh pine and those lovely cinnamon ornaments I made last year.

Time to clean the house. I don't want to be embarrassed by this mess if the world ends tomorrow!

Thursday, December 13, 2012


I am once more medicated and calm.

How sad, that it took a return to (totally legal) drugs to get that way, but it's still a relief.

My therapist says I shouldn't feel guilty about taking medication for depression. She says it's no different than taking antibiotics for a chest infection. It's just that the symptoms aren't as visible. And I see the logic-I really do. But the social stigma of being a "Prozac Mommy" is still there, and a big part of me feels that my inability to get out of bed in the morning and function normally is a personal weakness, not an illness.

I'm sure we'll work on that as part of my CBT.

Had a really good session this week, which will be discussed in detail on my other blog.

(Incidentally, it's a shame that it's private, because I feel like some of my best writing goes on over there and this blog is suffering as a result. Martin could tell me if that's true, as he reads the other one. Well, baby?)

I just wanted to talk about one aspect of the session, which was all about significant people in my life and how they've affected me.

Top of the list is my wonderful husband, Martin.

I still find it funny that my family didn't approve of Martin at first. They were so upset that I was marrying outside of our faith, but I don't think they really understand how much they owe that man!

My life before I met Martin was a shambles. I was all over the place spiritually. I was totally messed up emotionally and sexually. I was engaging in all sorts of risky behavior with completely sociopathic people. My friends were the party animals, doing Class A drugs before going out and engaging in all manner of debauchery. I partied with them, and I thought I was happy.

Then I started talking to this beautiful English boy at a bonfire one night--a three day rave thrown out in the National Forest by an ex-boyfriend of mine. He was gorgeous, and he was intelligent and passionate about music. And I was definitely interested. I gave him a ride home that night, and discovered that he was also fairly responsible--he left early because he had to be at work the next morning.

When we were formally introduced a few days later by a mutual friend, I liked him even more. When he stood me up for our first date, I liked him slightly less. But when he made it up to me by cooking me dinner and doing the dishes afterwards, I was in deep smit.

I knew on our second date that I could happily spend the rest of my life with Martin. We just clicked, and became practically inseperable. And because he was only 20 and couldn't go out to my usual stomping grounds, we stayed in. I stopped hanging out with my reprobate friends in bars. I started watching movies and cooking dinners with my boyfriend. We went shopping and to the cinema. We went for long drives out in the forest. Basically, we had a normal relationship. And I discovered, through Martin, that I was actually happier living that kind of lifestyle, though I'd actively scorned it for years. From day one we were like an old married couple, and it was sweet and wonderful. It was comfortable and comforting. It was also blissful and exciting.

We only spent six weeks together, and those six weeks were the happiest ones of my life--at least up until then. When it was time for him to go back to England, we nearly drove to Vegas and got married instead of to the airport in Phoenix. Believe me, I wanted to.

I drove home after we said our goodbyes, and I cried most of the way. I tried to go out with my old friends that night, but it wasn't the same. In fact, I tried to go out with them almost every night for the next month. But it wasn't fun any more. Id had a taste of another kind of life, a life that I hadn't dared to dream of since I was 17 years old, and I wanted more.

So I bought a phone card, applied for my first passport, and got a plane ticket to England. And the rest is history.

I told all of this to Deborah, including the fact that even after 11 years of marriage there is still no-one else on earth I'd rather be with, and she smiled. Then she said something to me that really summed it all up:

"I guess you could say that he saved you."

And that, in a nut shell, is it. Martin saved me. He saved me from the path of self-distruction that I was on. He brought me back from the brink of personal disaster. He planted my feet firmly on the path of happiness and stability. He rescued me from myself, and brought me back to myself at the same time. I guess that's why I love him so much, and why I always will. Because he loved me enough for both of us until I could love myself again.

I am so blessed to have Martin in my life. He is so beautiful, inside and out. Never have I known such a naturally kind and giving person, and he is my husband and the father of my children! How did I get so lucky?

Tuesday, December 04, 2012

An answer to my unspoken prayer...

Had a hard session with Debbie today, and a rough couple of weeks in advance of it.

I started taking my happy drugs again, but they haven't kicked in yet. This evening was looking pretty grim. I was actually curled up on my bed, hiding from my children because I didn't think I could be in the same room as them without being mean, when my mother-in-law rang. She'd just finished at the dentist and wanted to drop by.

She could see that I'd had a rough day, so she helped me do my dinner dishes, then she stayed and helped me until the kids were in bed.

She was my angel tonight.

I am so blessed to be a Gilbert.