Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Blogger's Remorse?

Ok, so now it’s out there; I haven’t followed through with my commitment to the blog. Deal with it. After my last entry, I think in July, I wrote oh so sweetly that I was so motivated by Elliot’s enthusiasm for my writing that I decided to really buckle down and make the time for it again…so I asked him a couple of days after posting what he thought of my latest entry…. “UUUHHH, I haven’t had time to read it yet.” So now, three months later, I’m back, ‘cause I just haven’t had time to get around to it…” Ha! Two can play that game.

But actually, it is with good reason that I have been on hiatus (I like the sound of that, it makes me feel really important) and it has nothing to do with Elliot. I began writing because I wanted to keep better track of all the little things that happen in our lives. The big things with kids make an indelible imprint on our parental brains, but who can remember all of the small moments, some humorous, some mundane, but all meaningful. So when I began, I had the best intention…recording our lives FOR the kids, well, that sort of naturally morphed into me making FUN of the kids. What can I say, I can’t help it, it's done with love. But somewhere over the summer I lost my lighthearted tendency to laugh and shrug off the small stuff. Having all three girls home all day, every day I began to feel the heady responsibility that so many mothers feel and won’t admit to because they feel too guilty.

I think this is one of those entries that I wish was anonymous; my friends and I have had many debates over this. But when I “committed” to the blog, I decided I had to be willing to put it all out there and not give a shit about what people thought of it. You can love it, hate it, be moved or irritated by it, but I’m writing it and doing it without reservation, because I think this is a maternal issue that needs to be out there.

I got depressed…which if you see me every day is SO unlike me; not saying I’m Little Miss Perky all of the time but I am generally in very good spirits (who else could be a preschool teacher.) But suddenly, each day, I felt the weight of the world, and less humor in it. I began to feel less and less amused by the daily happenings around our house and only could hear the negative interactions between my children. And summer will do this to you…not that I’m blaming the Public school system for giving us summer vacation, or Mother Nature for sending the temperature up and shrouding us with humidity, but still. Having everyone home is so fucking hard, and there is a feeling of loneliness in motherhood that no one really warns you about. I have felt this before, no stranger to isolation (lest we not forget I had two toddlers and a newborn in the dead of winter in Connecticut). Try being lonely as hell while never ACTUALLY being alone…

So I faked it for awhile, went dutifully to the pool, out for ice cream, and daily bike rides, but my heart wasn’t in it. I do think my kids began to pick up on my faking, and in turn began to bicker like it’s nobody’s business…. But there’s just something so painful about being half in it all the time, almost like flat-lining and not knowing how to pull out of it. Now don’t get me wrong, I was functioning…but just not able to put my finger on my lack of enthusiasm for, ummmm...everything.

I can write about this in retrospect because I have had a positive outcome. Elliot, who has known me and handled my antics since 1995 (Oh my God 16 years, we’re so old) finally sat me down because I just didn’t seem like myself. I give him massive credit for knowing me oh, so well, because I am, in fact, an excellent faker. I adore my husband for this, as he saw through it…. “I think I’m depressed.” I said, matter of factly, and naming it actually began to make it feel better. Never one to sit idly, the next day I had an appointment with my doctor, and now, I’m the poster girl for Zoloft.

Embarassed about it? Clearly I’m not, as I am writing this for everyone I know to read. Honesty about this issue is so very important for us Moms (or anyone for that matter, don’t mean to play the Mom card,) as we muddle through our days. Don’t get me wrong, my life is not that hard, which makes the guilt surrounding feeling depressed even that much weightier. But if I can help one person who may be coasting through on autopilot then it’s worth the embarrassment of this entry. I’m pretty upfront with anyone who asks me, and have gotten some pretty strange looks from people who innocently ask me, “How was your summer?” and I respond with, “It sucked, it blew, or I’m glad it’s over.” But I’m just being honest and editing myself is not really my forte…as those devoted to reading this may already know.

Not all entries will be this heavy going forward, but I couldn’t start blogging again, even though I have wanted to, without putting this out there.
So readers, think twice about giving me any shit about not blogging enough in the past couple of months or else you might get to hear more about how my summer was…hee hee hee…

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