Maybe someday…

I needed a moment to process this one and proud to say that I could do so rationally. It’s a nod to a great psychiatrist, that I’m blessed with provision to afford out of pocket, and her vast knowledge of medication, also blessed to afford, that made it possible to not fly off the handle in a total meltdown mess when I saw this the other day.

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F-bombing Jesus and living to tell about it…

When+you+tell+your+secrets,+they+lose+their+power+over+you.Before I write another word, let me be clear: I. Am. Good. I am safe. I am taking my meds. I am seeing my docs. I am living life – cursing it along the way at times – but living life. I am good and still here. Don’t always want to be and yet here we are. Crawling and clawing through the next 60 seconds.

Now that we’ve established that…

“Jesus, we’re really doing this today? Really? Why? I don’t want to do this for one more second. That whole ‘I know the plans I have for you…’ thing is crap. Crap. F*#! You, Jesus – Your plans suck!” Continue reading

This I can’t forgive you for…

This past Monday, My Fave having had a long day and not ever thrilled with the 5 day a week 5:30 a.m. alarm…

C at 5 p.m.: “Can _______ spend the night?”

Us: “Sure.”

C at 9 p.m.: “We’re going to walk to UDF to get snacks.”

Us: “Okay.”

J at 9:30 p.m. & out with friends already: “Can I have friends over tonight?”

Us: “Sure. But please remember Dad has to be up at 5:30 tomorrow morning and you all can’t be your normal loud selves.”

J: “We’ll be quiet, I promise.”

Us: “Okay; we’ll give you guys a chance. Please be here by 10:30 so we’re not up late waiting on you all.”

Me to My Fave at 10 p.m.: “We both have to be up early, but this time in 2 yrs, we will be working through the checklist of moving J to college and begging for a return to the night that we didn’t sleep great because we had a house full of teenagers.” Continue reading

Don’t you dare…

On the day after I turned 47, my psychiatrist listened as I described for the 2nd time in three weeks struggling under the weight of “too big” emotions. If your gifting is empathy, you have a fair grasp on what that feels like; couple it with bipolar, depression, and anxiety and it’s utterly exhausting – completely consuming and totally exhausting. Continue reading

What? We only get one day…

best-funny-quotes-happy-mother-day-wishes-poem-for-mom-to-greet-her-on-mothers-day-as-she-deservesHappy Mother’s Day! Ann Jarvis, in 1868, worked to establish a Mother’s Friendship Day in support of families being reunited following the Civil War. Her daughter would continue in her mother’s footsteps and Mother’s Day was born. (Sonora Dodd would follow to establish Father’s Day, as a nod to her father, a Civil War veteran and single father of 6 children). But let’s be honest – 1 day! One day is all we get, and if some of your Mother’s Days have been like mine, our spouses and kids sometimes take Mother’s Day to mean a special day to honor you while you do what you do every single day. But hey, they gave us a card they bought at 11 pm the night before and even though they forgot to sign it before they sealed the envelope it’s the thought that counts, right? Ugh! Ladies, if I ever do write a book, I promise to include an entire chapter on “The Right Way to Celebrate the Women You Love”. Continue reading

Stop whispering…

img_0914Me at 9 or 10, while trying to hear what the adults at the “grown up” Thanksgiving table were saying: “Why are they whispering? We’re not a whispering family.” I tried to ease my way into the conversation by tucking myself in next to my Dad; the volume got lower but I managed to catch a few words: “Cancer. She’s just a little girl.” I didn’t know much about cancer except that it was bad and if the grown ups were whispering, it must be really bad. Like, terrible kind of bad. Continue reading

I think that’s our job…

download (2)I’m just a Mama, not some 30ish year-old tech-savvy executive, so my assessment of crafting strategy for how people use a social media platform is not my expertise and is really narrow minded. It’s ironic that a few days ago, my psychiatrist tasked me with subbing “I’m more than a…” for “I’m just a …” but I’m neither ready or convinced, so Imposter Syndrome is winning on this subject and we’ll pay Dr. V to call me out in a couple of weeks. However, that’s a different subject for a different day. Continue reading