My fingers are wrecked and it hurts to type, so I'll be brief.
REALLY busy couple of days over here. They went kind of like this;
Friday: Kids broke up for half term. We celebrated with fish and chips and a movie at home. NICE!
Saturday: Had a "screen free" day. Edith's ballet lesson, walk at Water's Edge, gardening, scooter ride, grocery shop, play at park, etc. Kids only took about 3 minutes to fall asleep. Me too!
Sunday: Church, of course. And Martin worked in the evening, so played single parent.
Monday: DIY marathon, took kids to the park, B&Q shop, more DIY, aquafit in the evening for me.
Tuesday: DIY marathon day (yes, again. Why do you think my fingers hurt?), took the kids to Normanby Hall (met the Mundays there--yay!), more DIY.
So the big project at the moment is the stairs. I am stripping the carpet off the top flight of stairs, then sanding, filling, and painting the steps. It's hard work, but the carpet is all gone and I've done all the sanding and filling. The painting is half done, as well. I would have finished it tonight, but I ran out of paint.
Martin is still working on building me that bed. He's nearly done. As a matter of fact, we should be sleeping in it tomorrow night. I am totally excited, because he's done such a great job on it. My husband is a man of many talents.
Tomorrow should be a good day as well. We are hoping to go to the temple, then we are all going to the football--Leeds v. Blackpool. I'm already tired, just thinking about it. But looking forward to it, all the same. Oh, and yoga. I also have yoga tomorrow.
So far, this has been a really nice half term break. Lets hope it stays that way!
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Definitely NOT an "L.M"
As I was standing in the bathroom listening to a podcast about hypoallergenic cats with hair dye on my head and Nair on my arms and upper lip, it suddenly occured to me that for a woman who likes to look fairly natural, I'm actually pretty artificial and high maintenance.
Just a little food for thought...
In other news, I was bitten by the spring gardening bug today. Edith and I went out in the back yard and did a little bit of digging and weeding. It was actually pretty fun. It'll be nice when the days are long enough for me to go out in the back garden after the kids are in bed.
Just a little food for thought...
In other news, I was bitten by the spring gardening bug today. Edith and I went out in the back yard and did a little bit of digging and weeding. It was actually pretty fun. It'll be nice when the days are long enough for me to go out in the back garden after the kids are in bed.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
The "Dr Seuss phase..."
Edith has just discovered rhyming. She likes to make up nonsensical words, and she sings them to herself in little original songs. Or she shouts them gleefully at the top of her lungs, so proud to have made a rhyme. This is blissfully adorable. Until, that is, she comes up with a rhyming word for "front." And she does it in public. At her father's restaurant. In front of his boss.
AWKWARD!
AWKWARD!
Saturday, February 09, 2013
Going hunting...
Lying in bed this morning, I was desperately grasping for something new and fun to do with the kids today. And then in a flash of brilliance, it came to me!
We drove over to Normanby Hall this afternoon, and went hunting for some signs of spring. I gave each of the kids a camera and told them to take pictures of what they found. With a little help from me, here's what they came up with:
We drove over to Normanby Hall this afternoon, and went hunting for some signs of spring. I gave each of the kids a camera and told them to take pictures of what they found. With a little help from me, here's what they came up with:
Friday, February 08, 2013
What we've been up to...
Going out with Martin to Cathy's engagement party. Digging my new Caruso curlers and that 40's 'do.
Shopping at TK Maxx and trying on sunglasses. Oh, that pout. Future lady killer!
Having her own little tea party in the children's section of Ikea.
Posing in front of the GIANT M&M's in London's Leicester square, just so we could send the photo to the kids.
Getting a Kindle and a smart phone was, like, the worst thing ever...
At least when it comes to my beloved ol' blog. I almost never sit down at the actual laptop any more, and I have yet to figure out that whole "mobile blogging" thing. Apologies to my mother!
Things are going well here. And while I realize that every other time my blog has been neglected it was because I was pregnant, please let me reassure you that is NOT the case now. Martin would kill me if I got pregnant. I am not joking!
Dylan was recently named reader of the week AND mathmatician of the week. He is doing so well in school that I could just burst with pride. SUCH a smart kid. He also managed to swim all the way across the swimming pool completely unaided last week. On his back, as he still has to put his feet down a few times if he's swimming on his front, but still. Progress for the first time on the swimming front. He might even be able to move up to the swimmers class for the next session of swimming lessons.
Edith is growing like a weed lately. She's still got the longest, skinniest legs on the planet, and she just keeps getting taller. I had to go out and buy her new school uniform tops because her old ones were all too short. She's started doing phonics at school, and comes home most days having learnt a new letter and the sound it makes. I'm pretty sure she's going to turn out just as smart as her big brother. Oh, and she got in trouble yesterday at school for drawing on one of her classmate's face with a marker. When I asked her why she had done it, she told me it was "to be funny." That girl!
Martin is doing well. He's been staying busy at work, though they have had a few quiet nights. That's pretty normal for the period between New Years and Valentines Day. He's been building me a bed, and is nearly finished with it. I'll post pictures as soon as it's been assembled in our bedroom (really soon, I hope). It should be beautiful, because he is a really handy sort of fella.
We had a date on Wednesday night. We saw the new Denzel Washington film, "Flight." Wow, that should be required viewing for members of Alcoholics Anonymous. Good movie. I get to choose what we see next time :)
And me? Well, I'm still attending weekly therapy sessions with my friendly neighborhood psychologist. It's hard--emotionally draining and very painful--but doing some good. It's amazing, how she can listen to me and understand me, then very skillfully manipulate the conversation so that I end up drawing the conclusions that she's already reached by myself. If someone tells you why you are doing something, or that you feel a particular way, you just think they're nuts. If you realize it on your own, if you verbalize it, then you have to admit that it is true. I've had some very emotional sessions lately, and some major shifts in the way that I perceive a lot of events in my past.
This journey isn't an easy one to take. I've lied to myself, I've justified things and sugar-coated them as a way of coping. And seeing them the way they actually happened, with a clear and logical eye and with the benefit of hindsight, leaves me feeling raw and exposed. In some ways, it's like re-living some very painful experiences. But for me, understanding WHY I do things the way I do, knowing WHY I am so crazy about some things, actually helps. Because when you understand the reasoning behind your decisions, however flawed, you can change. And that's what I want to do more than anything.
One more week in school until half term, and a whole week off. Martin just told me this afternoon that he is going to have the whole week off, and I did a little happy dance. Now I am looking forward to the break instead of half-dreading it. We'll have a week to just hang out as a family. If it's anywhere near as good as the Christmas break was, we'll all have a good time. Especially because we aren't all sick this time 'round. Well, not right now anyway. Anything could happen in the next week.
I'm desperately trying to think of anything new and exciting in our lives, but I've got nothing. That's the beauty, and the curse, of having a stable life. No drama. A little bit boring. I'm making a new rag rug for my living room. Is that exciting?
So, I'm signing off for now. With a promise that I will try to blog at least once a week. Maybe twice.
MAYBE!
Things are going well here. And while I realize that every other time my blog has been neglected it was because I was pregnant, please let me reassure you that is NOT the case now. Martin would kill me if I got pregnant. I am not joking!
Dylan was recently named reader of the week AND mathmatician of the week. He is doing so well in school that I could just burst with pride. SUCH a smart kid. He also managed to swim all the way across the swimming pool completely unaided last week. On his back, as he still has to put his feet down a few times if he's swimming on his front, but still. Progress for the first time on the swimming front. He might even be able to move up to the swimmers class for the next session of swimming lessons.
Edith is growing like a weed lately. She's still got the longest, skinniest legs on the planet, and she just keeps getting taller. I had to go out and buy her new school uniform tops because her old ones were all too short. She's started doing phonics at school, and comes home most days having learnt a new letter and the sound it makes. I'm pretty sure she's going to turn out just as smart as her big brother. Oh, and she got in trouble yesterday at school for drawing on one of her classmate's face with a marker. When I asked her why she had done it, she told me it was "to be funny." That girl!
Martin is doing well. He's been staying busy at work, though they have had a few quiet nights. That's pretty normal for the period between New Years and Valentines Day. He's been building me a bed, and is nearly finished with it. I'll post pictures as soon as it's been assembled in our bedroom (really soon, I hope). It should be beautiful, because he is a really handy sort of fella.
We had a date on Wednesday night. We saw the new Denzel Washington film, "Flight." Wow, that should be required viewing for members of Alcoholics Anonymous. Good movie. I get to choose what we see next time :)
And me? Well, I'm still attending weekly therapy sessions with my friendly neighborhood psychologist. It's hard--emotionally draining and very painful--but doing some good. It's amazing, how she can listen to me and understand me, then very skillfully manipulate the conversation so that I end up drawing the conclusions that she's already reached by myself. If someone tells you why you are doing something, or that you feel a particular way, you just think they're nuts. If you realize it on your own, if you verbalize it, then you have to admit that it is true. I've had some very emotional sessions lately, and some major shifts in the way that I perceive a lot of events in my past.
This journey isn't an easy one to take. I've lied to myself, I've justified things and sugar-coated them as a way of coping. And seeing them the way they actually happened, with a clear and logical eye and with the benefit of hindsight, leaves me feeling raw and exposed. In some ways, it's like re-living some very painful experiences. But for me, understanding WHY I do things the way I do, knowing WHY I am so crazy about some things, actually helps. Because when you understand the reasoning behind your decisions, however flawed, you can change. And that's what I want to do more than anything.
One more week in school until half term, and a whole week off. Martin just told me this afternoon that he is going to have the whole week off, and I did a little happy dance. Now I am looking forward to the break instead of half-dreading it. We'll have a week to just hang out as a family. If it's anywhere near as good as the Christmas break was, we'll all have a good time. Especially because we aren't all sick this time 'round. Well, not right now anyway. Anything could happen in the next week.
I'm desperately trying to think of anything new and exciting in our lives, but I've got nothing. That's the beauty, and the curse, of having a stable life. No drama. A little bit boring. I'm making a new rag rug for my living room. Is that exciting?
So, I'm signing off for now. With a promise that I will try to blog at least once a week. Maybe twice.
MAYBE!
Friday, January 25, 2013
Necessary
Remember last December when Dylan cut all of Edith's hair off? Remember how sad and angry I was?
Well, that girl had developed a bad habit of twirling her hair. She twirls it into knots, then pulls out big clumps of hair. She has given herself quite a few bald spots, and her scalp was showing through like crazy. We've tried everything to get her to stop, without success. So this evening I took her to CV Day Spa and requested a pixie cut.
It's VERY cute!
Well, that girl had developed a bad habit of twirling her hair. She twirls it into knots, then pulls out big clumps of hair. She has given herself quite a few bald spots, and her scalp was showing through like crazy. We've tried everything to get her to stop, without success. So this evening I took her to CV Day Spa and requested a pixie cut.
It's VERY cute!
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
When did it happen?
When did I actually start to care what other people thought about me?
I remember being 17 and not caring at all.
I remember being 21 and caring even less than I had before.
I remember being 25 and not really noticing.
Now, I think about it all the time.
What's happened to me?
I worry all the time. Is my hair colour too brassy? Does it make me look cheap? Am I too old for cats' eye black eyeliner? Does it still look fun and retro, or do I just look like an old tart? Are my kids behaving, or are they making me look like an inept parent? What does HE think? What does SHE think? What do THEY think?
When did all of those questions start to matter more than this one:
WHAT DO I THINK?
If I like the colour I dye my hair, who cares if it's bright and brassy? If I like my makeup and it makes me feel sexy, does it matter if it makes me look a little bit old and sad? If I know I'm doing the best I can raising my kids, does it really matter if they occasionally misbehave? After all, that doesn't mean I'm a bad parent.
I'm so tired of trying to be who I think I ought to be. It's exhausting, and the cracks are really starting to show. But I've been working towards some imaginary ideal for so long that it has started to feel like what I actually want. Now I don't know who I really am, or who I really want to be. What I want to do and be.
How do you rediscover that at the age of 34? Surely I should have sorted that in my teens or early twenties...
Introspection isn't always a good thing. Maybe I should wake my kids up so I can focus on them instead :)
I remember being 17 and not caring at all.
I remember being 21 and caring even less than I had before.
I remember being 25 and not really noticing.
Now, I think about it all the time.
What's happened to me?
I worry all the time. Is my hair colour too brassy? Does it make me look cheap? Am I too old for cats' eye black eyeliner? Does it still look fun and retro, or do I just look like an old tart? Are my kids behaving, or are they making me look like an inept parent? What does HE think? What does SHE think? What do THEY think?
When did all of those questions start to matter more than this one:
WHAT DO I THINK?
If I like the colour I dye my hair, who cares if it's bright and brassy? If I like my makeup and it makes me feel sexy, does it matter if it makes me look a little bit old and sad? If I know I'm doing the best I can raising my kids, does it really matter if they occasionally misbehave? After all, that doesn't mean I'm a bad parent.
I'm so tired of trying to be who I think I ought to be. It's exhausting, and the cracks are really starting to show. But I've been working towards some imaginary ideal for so long that it has started to feel like what I actually want. Now I don't know who I really am, or who I really want to be. What I want to do and be.
How do you rediscover that at the age of 34? Surely I should have sorted that in my teens or early twenties...
Introspection isn't always a good thing. Maybe I should wake my kids up so I can focus on them instead :)
Monday, January 14, 2013
Chillin' with my girl...
Edith and I are currently engaged in the vital task of holding the sofa down and keeping British Gas in business. We are snuggling under a Thomas the Tank Engine fleece and watching CBeebies. Oh, and it's snowing outside. Bliss!
I love my afternoons with Edith. I'm going to be a little bit sad when she starts full days at school in September. We have so much fun watching telly, cooking dinner, snuggling, and going shopping together. What will I do without my little afternoon buddy? Probably get a job. Urgh!
It seems we may have turned a corner with our little family. Yesterday at church, both kids were (relatively) quiet all through Sacrament meeting and I actually got to listen to all the talks. And, more amazingly, the talks were all good! Church is starting to be enjoyable again instead of just hard work.
I also have a new calling. Did I already mention that? I'm teaching the 14-18 year old youth Sunday School class. I really love teaching that class, because the students are such fun to be around. I leave there with so much energy it's unreal. I'm still teaching Relief Society once a month as well, which I also love. All in all, I'm feeling pretty jazzed about church at the moment. It makes a nice change.
Saturday was a hard day. The kind of day that would have levelled me before I was on my happy drugs (hooray for Prozac). But it ended very well, with a big snuggle and a long talk about how much I loved Dylan and Edith and they made me happy. The real saving grace of the day though was the "Stuff You Should Know" podcast on my phone. And the free creche at IKEA, of course, which gave me an hour to myself. Bless you, IKEA!
Martin is whisking me away to London for my birthday this weekend. The kids are going to stay at their Nanna and Grandad's house. I can hardly wait for Friday. Seriously, SO excited. We're going to get some cheap seats to a West End show and go to the National Gallery--you know, pretend to be cultured and stuff. I always look forward to time alone with my husband. I love that man to distraction.
I'd better go find the snow shovel--just in case. Wow, it's really coming down out there. Hot chocolate may be in order :)
Man, isn't my life so hard?
I love my afternoons with Edith. I'm going to be a little bit sad when she starts full days at school in September. We have so much fun watching telly, cooking dinner, snuggling, and going shopping together. What will I do without my little afternoon buddy? Probably get a job. Urgh!
It seems we may have turned a corner with our little family. Yesterday at church, both kids were (relatively) quiet all through Sacrament meeting and I actually got to listen to all the talks. And, more amazingly, the talks were all good! Church is starting to be enjoyable again instead of just hard work.
I also have a new calling. Did I already mention that? I'm teaching the 14-18 year old youth Sunday School class. I really love teaching that class, because the students are such fun to be around. I leave there with so much energy it's unreal. I'm still teaching Relief Society once a month as well, which I also love. All in all, I'm feeling pretty jazzed about church at the moment. It makes a nice change.
Saturday was a hard day. The kind of day that would have levelled me before I was on my happy drugs (hooray for Prozac). But it ended very well, with a big snuggle and a long talk about how much I loved Dylan and Edith and they made me happy. The real saving grace of the day though was the "Stuff You Should Know" podcast on my phone. And the free creche at IKEA, of course, which gave me an hour to myself. Bless you, IKEA!
Martin is whisking me away to London for my birthday this weekend. The kids are going to stay at their Nanna and Grandad's house. I can hardly wait for Friday. Seriously, SO excited. We're going to get some cheap seats to a West End show and go to the National Gallery--you know, pretend to be cultured and stuff. I always look forward to time alone with my husband. I love that man to distraction.
I'd better go find the snow shovel--just in case. Wow, it's really coming down out there. Hot chocolate may be in order :)
Man, isn't my life so hard?
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
He's been replaced...
The kids don't like to hold hands with each other when we say our family prayers. Not a problem when Martin is home, because they each hold one of our hands. Unfortunately, he's at work five nights a week.
So tonight I suggested we let a teddy bear take Daddy's place in the circle. It worked brilliantly, but Dylan said the following during his prayer:
"Thank you for helping us find someone to take Daddy's place when he's at work."
Poor Martin, replaced by a stuffed toy!
We've had a lovely Christmas break, and Dylan's back at school tomorrow. Edith goes back on Thursday. We've all been sick over the last few weeks, but had a great time anyway. The best part of it was sleeping in 6 days a week. No major incidents, good times had by all.
Sigh...
Back to early mornings tomorrow, but back to mornings free with my husband. Bitter sweet!
So tonight I suggested we let a teddy bear take Daddy's place in the circle. It worked brilliantly, but Dylan said the following during his prayer:
"Thank you for helping us find someone to take Daddy's place when he's at work."
Poor Martin, replaced by a stuffed toy!
We've had a lovely Christmas break, and Dylan's back at school tomorrow. Edith goes back on Thursday. We've all been sick over the last few weeks, but had a great time anyway. The best part of it was sleeping in 6 days a week. No major incidents, good times had by all.
Sigh...
Back to early mornings tomorrow, but back to mornings free with my husband. Bitter sweet!
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Christmas day pictures...
Martin on Christmas day...
Me on Christmas day (that's my foot! It's the only part of me that made it into any photos that day.)
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Forget Christmas,
TOMORROW is the hap-happiest day of the year. Why? Two words for you...
WINTER SOLSTICE!
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!
WINTER SOLSTICE!
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
Rescue...
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?
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
A little perspective
Yesterday was an interesting day.
I did my grocery shopping while Edith was at school, and I was in a bit of a hurry. I'd left Martin home in bed, and I knew he wouldn't get up in time for work if I didn't wake him up.
I made it through Tesco in record time, and picked the checkout line with a mom and her young kid. I figured she'd be in a hurry.
Mistake!
She'd let her son open up a package of pies and eat one, and he'd ripped the bar code up. An employee had to go get a new one so they could scan it through. Then she finally got her total, and she didn't have enough money with her. So she had to take things out of her bags until she had enough cash to pay for her groceries.
I stood behind her, eyes on the clock, getting more and more frustrated. Then I remembered the lesson I'd taught the day before in Relief Society, "Consider the Blessings." And instead of getting angry about the delay, I remembered the times I was in the same situation. And instead of being mad, I felt blessed to have enough money that I was able to fill my shopping trolley up with the things our family needed and not worry about having to put stuff back at the till.
I started my counseling yesterday. It went well, I think. I got a little bit stressed out before my appointment, worrying that I was wasting time and NHS resources. I've managed just fine for all these years, and I wonder if I'm really that bad off. But when I spoke to Debbie (the clinical psychologist) and started opening up to her about things from my (slightly sordid) past, I could see her eyes filling with tears for me. And I knew I wasn't wasting her time, or mine. This is necessary for me. I need to talk about the things that I've kept hidden for so long. I need to understand, to come to terms with my past so that I can move forward.
The main thing that came out of yesterday's appointment is that I am going to go back on Prozac for a little while. The last few weeks have been really hard. I'm not losing my temper with the kids too much, though I have been slightly snappish. I've actually been, ugh, depressed. Like, hiding in my bedroom unable to get out of bed depressed. I wanted to be off the happy drugs, but I'm just not ready yet. The goal is still to not be dependent on chemicals for my happiness, but I need that extra help still. I don't want to go back to how I was before I started taking the meds. That was a bad situation.
Today was a better day, actually. Being stuck in the house has been driving me nuts, so I picked Edith up from school and took her shopping. I had gift vouchers for New Look that I got last year for Christmas, and I spent them. I got some new jeans, a lovely sweater dress, and some accessories. And I only spent £.98 of my own money. Edith is a great shopping buddy--she loves to try on shoes and necklaces. She loves to spend time with me. I hope that never changes.
Basically though, I just decided to have a better day. Sometimes, it really is a question of making that decision.
I did my grocery shopping while Edith was at school, and I was in a bit of a hurry. I'd left Martin home in bed, and I knew he wouldn't get up in time for work if I didn't wake him up.
I made it through Tesco in record time, and picked the checkout line with a mom and her young kid. I figured she'd be in a hurry.
Mistake!
She'd let her son open up a package of pies and eat one, and he'd ripped the bar code up. An employee had to go get a new one so they could scan it through. Then she finally got her total, and she didn't have enough money with her. So she had to take things out of her bags until she had enough cash to pay for her groceries.
I stood behind her, eyes on the clock, getting more and more frustrated. Then I remembered the lesson I'd taught the day before in Relief Society, "Consider the Blessings." And instead of getting angry about the delay, I remembered the times I was in the same situation. And instead of being mad, I felt blessed to have enough money that I was able to fill my shopping trolley up with the things our family needed and not worry about having to put stuff back at the till.
I started my counseling yesterday. It went well, I think. I got a little bit stressed out before my appointment, worrying that I was wasting time and NHS resources. I've managed just fine for all these years, and I wonder if I'm really that bad off. But when I spoke to Debbie (the clinical psychologist) and started opening up to her about things from my (slightly sordid) past, I could see her eyes filling with tears for me. And I knew I wasn't wasting her time, or mine. This is necessary for me. I need to talk about the things that I've kept hidden for so long. I need to understand, to come to terms with my past so that I can move forward.
The main thing that came out of yesterday's appointment is that I am going to go back on Prozac for a little while. The last few weeks have been really hard. I'm not losing my temper with the kids too much, though I have been slightly snappish. I've actually been, ugh, depressed. Like, hiding in my bedroom unable to get out of bed depressed. I wanted to be off the happy drugs, but I'm just not ready yet. The goal is still to not be dependent on chemicals for my happiness, but I need that extra help still. I don't want to go back to how I was before I started taking the meds. That was a bad situation.
Today was a better day, actually. Being stuck in the house has been driving me nuts, so I picked Edith up from school and took her shopping. I had gift vouchers for New Look that I got last year for Christmas, and I spent them. I got some new jeans, a lovely sweater dress, and some accessories. And I only spent £.98 of my own money. Edith is a great shopping buddy--she loves to try on shoes and necklaces. She loves to spend time with me. I hope that never changes.
Basically though, I just decided to have a better day. Sometimes, it really is a question of making that decision.
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