I’ve always heard “Bad things happen in threes.”  If this is the case, I’m home free, baby, because I have paid my dues.  If it’s not the case, please don’t enlighten me.  Positive thinking breeds positive results. 

Thanks for all of you who commented, emailed, DM’d me through Twitter and generally reached out after my last posting.  I know I’m a great big sobbing embarrassment to parts of my family and sharing it with “the world” (as if everyone in the universe reads here - if so, I’d be making so much from ad revenue I could retire) was hard for them to swallow.  I appreciate their restraint in not lecturing me about it.  Some of the most poignant comments were sent in notes, privately.  People came out of the woodwork to either share their own stories and their own experiences with behavioral health issues (i.e. going crazy!) or family members or the old-fashioned version, the “nervous breakdown”.  When I started to read the comments and emails, I knew I had made the right decision to share it.  And I’m probably not done sharing it.  So much happened there in 4+ days - it will take a while for it to come out.  Someone laughingly asked if it was like Girl, Interrupted.  Unfortunately, no one as hot as Angelina Jolie was roaming the hallways and there were no straightjackets or shock treatments.  I did occasionally long for a lobotomy.  I’ll admit I longed for one again today, albeit briefly. 

Life on the outside has returned to normal - mostly.  I worked this morning, did laundry, cleaned the downstairs, worked out.  I started returning the 42,000 emails and calls I got.  I’m hoping that my friends are patient with me because I am easily overwhelmed and I get tired of talking about my crap all of the time.  I’d much rather hear other people’s sad stories than my own right now. 

We start marriage counseling very soon and I’m seriously considering just giving up the whole separation and living together while we try to work through our issues.  It’s super hard on both Mike and I and frankly at this point, I’m willing to try just about anything.  Being away from the kids at night and in the mornings has made me feel even more detached and I don’t like it.  Friends of Mike’s reached out to him and told them about their marital issues last year; counseling helped them immensely and they still attend every once in a while to keep the lines of communication open.  Somewhere along the way we really stopped talking to each other, and we let life get in the way.  Distracted by work, children, obligations, financial worries, business problems, insurance, housework, a yard that never stops growing . . . it is easy to just push all the ugly things back into a dark corner and forget about them.  Over the years those ugly things were watered with Miracle-Gro and got bigger and bigger until one day they sprouted 18,203 legs and crashed through the door.  By the time they did, I felt it was too late.

I’m not sure it is too late.  I’m keeping an open mind.  I’m dealing.  I’ve had some incredibly self-esteem-destroying moments over the last few months.  I’ve lost a ton; I’ve gained a lot more.  It constantly amazes me that blogging opens so many doors.  @Snarketta - I’m looking at you.  People will help you in the strangest ways when you are weak enough - or strong enough, depending on how you look at it - to ask for help. 

I hurt a friend’s feelings on Twitter the other day.  I’ve apologized, but I’m doing it here as well.  Sometimes when I’m tired and beaten down I say things without thinking.  That was one of those times.  I could argue my point and say all the reasons I had every right to say what I said, but I never meant to hurt their feelings and I don’t like being mean.  Getting out of the hospital, I was confronted with more stress I wasn’t expecting and I just reacted.  This particular friend has tried to be there for me, even though I’m really a very difficult person to be around these days.  It’s another friendship that has gone down in the collateral damage of my personal bombing campaign.  Eventually I will stop hurting people on a daily basis when I figure out how to balance my needs against the needs of others.  I feel like an accident victim learning to walk again.  I fall a lot. 

On a happier note, I was able to repair another friendship yesterday. It’s one that is very important to me and I’m glad we were able to talk things out and make some progress.  I’m still not batting 100% on anything, including being a mom, but I’m making headway.  Maybe soon I’ll have an uplifting light-hearted rainbow and unicorns post to share with you.  In the meantime, I’ll point you to the review page where you can win some saucy stuff. 

I was sitting on Laura’s couch this morning, narrowly holding it together.  I was really just waiting for her to leave so I could cry my eyes out (I’m an ugly cryer - a lot of sobbing and moaning and gasping, so I like to do it privately).  I think she could sense I was about to have a meltdown, but instead of leaving she gave me a big long hug.  This of course is physical sign language for “immediately start sobbing on the hugger’s freshly pressed shirt”, so I obliged. 

Aside from the unconditional love I get from my children and a few good friends, the parts of my life that make me feel good right about now are kind of slim.  Walks in the sunshine, sleeping with Thora, talking about writing with other nerds, hugging my girls in the morning, a very small handful of friends locally and on the internet, blaming the fact that I’m not on WordPress for all of my life’s problems - those are still the things that sustain me.  There are a few other things that sustain me as well.  I realized today that although I can rely on people to help me get through this, and I can accept help when it is offered, no one can be my bandage or my security blanket.  No one can be there 100% of the time for me and it’s unfair to ask that.  I really do need to go through this alone.  That doesn’t mean I can’t lean, but I can’t ask others to carry me through this, no matter how safe that might make me feel. 

I only have a couple of pacifiers left in my life.  Thankfully my usual stand-in, my anorexa-bulim-ieatwhateveriwant hasn’t come back to haunt me.  The drug of choice these days is somewhat different.  It involves a lot of running myself into the ground, staying so ridiculously busy I don’t have the time to sit with my grief and get through it.  When I lived in Raleigh and was trying to shake off a bad relationship, I’d take Delilah to a park about 25 minutes away from my house.  I was heavy into recovering from ye olde eating disorder and connecting with nature was the #1 way I survived those days.  I’d let Delilah off the leash and she’d run herself into the ground.  I’d sit by the abnormally warm lake water (it was next to a nuclear power reactor - nothing says “back to nature” like nuclear power) and write and think and listen to the silence. 

I need to spend more time doing things like that, and less time running ragged.  I’m neglecting my businesses and I’m okay with it.  At this point, financial ruin is #183 on my long list of #183 worries.  I’m more concerned about reconnecting with my kids and hugging them a lot and letting them know that it’s all going to be fine, eventually. It’s the process, the road, the journey to fine that kind of sucks right now. 

Laura reminded me today that emotions are just chemicals.  They come and they go.  When I feel like the world is taking a giant crap on my head, I replay our conversation about emotions and become fully aware that happiness, sadness, despair and elation are all fleeting.  It’s the calmness or contentedness I miss so badly.  My 20s were fraught with so much emotion and destruction that becoming a person who calmly walked through life was like being reborn.  I miss that sense of calm and security.  Unfortunately, no one else can give that gift to me - I have to find my own way through it, and there are no shortcuts through the grieving process. 

It’s pretty indicative of how low I am that the thought of spending 2 1/2 days straight with my kids without help from Mike scares the crap out of me.  Can I keep up my Robo-Mom facade all weekend?  Can I be strong and calm and uncranky for them for that extended period of time?  I’m pretty sure I can but it’s going to be hard.  Usually I have about a 3 hour window of normality.  After that I start to fray at the edges and it’s not pretty (see ugly crying reference above).  To celebrate my current state in life and to remind myself that I am still a funny, loveable person capable of being enjoyed, I’m hosting a party after the kids go to bed on Saturday night.  I’m only providing food and charcoal - everyone else has to bring their libation of choice.  If you want to come, send me a note and I’ll give you the details. 

On really bad days, I wish for a lobotomy so I can just do what everyone else wants me to do.  On good days, I know that I will make it and things will be better - for all of us. 

Thanks to everyone who delurked or sent me emails or texts after reading my post, especially my extended family (Sally and Aunt Paula and Anja, I’m looking at you).  It was more helpful than you can imagine to have support from all corners of the world. 

Although I probably freaked out a few members of my family with the entry, the only person’s opinion who mattered is Mike, and he was fine with it.  In fact, in an hour he’s heading over to his sisters to discuss the situation.  For a guy who isn’t open about anything with hardly anyone, it’s a big step for him and I’m proud of him.  Being honest about what’s happening means that now his friends and family can support him, and he needs it. 

This weekend was a first for us.  We both got the girls ready Saturday morning and went to Lily’s soccer game.  I spent most of the time wandering around after Arden, trying to keep her entertained, but I did get to snap a few pictures of Lily both when she was looking and when she wasn’t: 

Arden was pretty cranky when I said “no” to her request to wander across a very busy road to pick flowers. I know, I’m unreasonable:

After the game, I took a quick shower and headed out after kissing the girls goodbye and feeling very sad about it.  Thankfully, distraction was to be had at The Daily Grind.  I’d never been there before but loved the locally-owned coffee and teahouse and apparently the food was pretty good, or so Dan told me.  Dan was nice enough to sit down and talk with me about his own experiences with separation (not his, but his parents), and the things he felt they did right and wrong.  We ran into world-famous (okay, Short Pump famous) @trevordickerson and I managed not to squeal like the girls in the gym did when I saw him.  Dan’s one of the people who has really stepped up in the friend category.  He’s patient, understanding and always knows what the weather is going to be like.  Those are three very important qualities in a friend.

After Dan went on his merry way, I decided that instead of getting a bunch of work done, I would spend money I shouldn’t on a pedicure and an eyebrow wax.  I’m so glad I did, because it was heavenly to sit alone and do nothing for an hour besides watch the twitterverse on my iPhone and stare into space.  In a moment that made me believe there IS a god, the woman working on my hedges eyebrows spoke no English, so there was no pressure to converse.  Frankly, I couldn’t have even if I’d been forced by societal norms to do so.  The best I could do was grunt and drool slightly. 

She buffed, scrubbed, exfoliated, scraped, and picked at my legs and feet until they were in good shape, then sent me on my way.  If you need evidence of just how out of it I am, I forgot to eat lunch.  I am a person that does not, under any circumstances, forget to eat.  I headed back to the city to spend some time with Laura’s dog, as she was out of town and Gracie needed some attention. 

I managed to crank out a bit of work, catch up with Julie in Colorado, and take out the trash.  I had intended to clean Laura’s house, but I ran out of time.  Too many emails and too much work from Bradley to do on my site.  I’m also having breakfast on Monday with a mom who wants to start a Quickbooks consulting business, so I put together a little questionnaire and Marketing Plan Lite to share with her.  So many people helped me when I started that it’s always nice to return the goodness. 

Late in the evening I saw “Extract” with another friend who has stepped up to the plate and dealt with my drama-filled life with a lot of grace and understanding.  It was funnier than expected, and a little more disturbing than expected as well.  I think movies about weird dysfunctional marriages should not be high on my list right now, but I really didn’t get that as a theme from the previews.  I still had a good time. Jason Bateman was good in it, though if guys really are like the way they are portrayed in the movie, I’ll be jumping the fence and going all-girl. 

In a Twilight-Zone moment, as we left the theatre, we noticed it was ominously quiet. Why? We have no idea.  Normally Short Pump is mobbed with hormonal teens smoking clove cigarettes and loitering.  Not last night. It was dead. Very little traffic, hardly a tween in sight.  Still don’t know what was going on - possibly a black hole that sucked anyone under the age of 16 into it? 

Despite drinking Republic of Tea’s “Surrender to Sleep” tea blend (containing lavender, chamomile, red berries of some kind and a lot of good-smelling other stuff), and not getting much sleep the night before, I still couldn’t sleep.  This insomnia crap is so weird for me. I hate not sleeping and I hate being crazy the day after I don’t sleep.  For now, I guess I’m going to have to accept that I need the help of drugs and take them before I attempt to sleep again.  Last week when I had gone 5 days in a row with less than 4 hours a night, I completely flipped my lid and had a panic attack in the middle of the world’s grossest Food Lion.  Unfortunately the kids were with me and I almost had to have Mike come pick me up because I wasn’t sure I could drive.  I have never had a panic attack before, so I just assumed I was dying.  Nope, not dying, but I sure felt like it. 

This is where putting the kids first comes into play.  No more panic attacks, ever - but if I must, I have to make sure to lose my crap when the kids aren’t around.  I know the warning signs now and I also know that not sleeping for extended periods of time is a major culprit.  If it means raiding Mike’s Valium stash, then so be it. 

I came home this morning and Mike promptly left, so it’s our first weekend of “kid-share”.  So far it’s going okay and the girls seem to be taking it in stride.  The whole idea of surviving another week of going back and forth is overwhelming to me at the moment, so I’m not thinking about it.  For a while I was taking it one day at a time - today, I’m taking it one hour at a time.  If the laundry seems overwhelming, I stop for a bit and do something else.  I have a paid writing gig due in the morning, but can’t even begin to think about writing it, so I’m assuming I will get to it later tonight.  Or very early tomorrow morning. 

I’m mostly grateful that this weekend was as good as it could have been and for the first time in nearly 4 weeks, I didn’t spend it curled up in a ball or playing dead.  That’s progress.  Small progress, but progress nonetheless.