This Is Me

I just cried while I was running. That’s not too uncommon, honestly. Ask my husband. But I wanted to write about this one.

I have a chronic illness that I really, really wish I could willpower myself out of. I fight depression every day.

Not all days are bad. Some days are good. So, so good. Some are even great and I am so happy!!! Those days are perhaps more amazing than face value because I know what it’s like to have too many days that have no light at all. I just can’t see the light from the things I love most. It’s like I have a curtain over everything and can’t see any good. On the rare delightful occasion, my brain tries really hard to kill me.

But some days are just a plain ol’ struggle.

Today I woke up, took the dogs out, woke up my daughter, fed the cats, grabbed some breakfast and drove my car to work. You know, adult shit.

I went to my great job where I help shelter pets. I did surgeries and discussed patients and people looked to me as if I have all my shit together. I did some paperwork for another shelter and headed home. I was already exhausted from just that little bit. I got home and went straight into the dark bedroom. 30 minutes later, I went to pick up my daughter. I asked how her day was and I was excited when she told me about her classes.

When we got home, I went right back to bed. I have rehearsal with this really incredible chorus tonight (that is totally out of my league, but I’m working on it…) and I am really really trying to run more than once every now and then. So I dragged myself out of bed. Dragged, for real. I think my shins scraped the bed frame. And I went to run.

That’s good and all but that’s not why I cried.

We are practicing a song you might have heard of: This Is Me from The Greatest Showman. We were asked to sing for a possible solo or small group part, but I hadn’t planned on trying that. (See above about it being out of my league)

The song came on and I lost my shit. If you haven’t heard the song, go YouTube it. Seriously. Go now and I’ll wait.

I’m even going to try to add a link for you to make it easy.

This Is Me

Did you listen to it? Are you crying? If you didn’t listen to it, here are some of the lyrics:

I am not a stranger to the dark. Hide away, they say. We don’t want your broken parts.

I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars. Run away, they say. No one will love you as you are.

I won’t let them break me down to dust. I know that there’s a place for us. For we are glorious!!

When the sharpest words wanna cut me down, I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out. I am brave. I am bruised. I am who I’m meant to be. This is me.

If you don’t have goosebumps, it’s because you’re not singing along in you head, like I am.

This song, you guys. It came on my shuffled playlist and I broke the fuck down. I ugly cried while running down a major street near my house.

For SO long, I hid these scars. I sat in the dark by myself and hid away the ugliness, even as I pretended to be fine.

The Incident was a hell of a way to be dragged into the light, ugly scars and sadness and struggle and all, but I’m here. I am out here trying every day. And I AM brave. And I am bruised as hell. But I am who I’m meant to be. This. Is. Me.

And you know what, you’re here too. You have struggles. They may be like mine or they may be different, but they hurt and it is hard to show up sometimes. But you are here. You are brave. You are who you’re meant to be. You are beautiful. Glorious. Bruises and scars and broken parts and all.

Addendum:

I wrote the above part during my run. So, I’m adding an addendum. I did audition (even though I only knew the baritone part until I started driving to rehearsal)

I got up and sang in front of some of the most talented ladies I have ever met. Sinus infection, dry mouth, running clothes and forgotten words aside, I stood up beside singers far more talented than I, and I faced a chorus of beautiful voices. And you know what? They were all smiling at me. Every one. I took a step out and found beauty. I will still struggle and I will still fight and I will still have bad days and sometimes really bad days, but sometimes I find beauty in the world. Thank you to everyone who shows up every day even when you want to be in a dark room alone.

I’ll be out there too.

Just a Push

I’m still here! It’s been a minute or two since I last posted. Thanks for hanging in there!

I don’t really have anything profound to say, but my doctor prescribed writing another post when I went in for my yearly checkup 3 years late today! (I have the best OB/Gyn ever. THE best. Seriously. A friend who I had referred to her actually chose an insurance plan based on whether Dr Wonderful was in network.) My wonderful doctor also prescribed that I sign up for the local sprint triathlon in August. Which I will totally do. I may not train for it, but I will do it.

Speaking of training – or not training – I haven’t done any. At all. None. I know you are shocked and are currently picking yourself up off the ground. It’s ok. I’ll give you a minute to recover. I’ll just go over here and EAT A HUGE BOWL OF PASTA while I wait. Because that’s what I’ve been doing. Steady yourself because I have another shocker: I’ve gained 20 lbs. And I feel like shit. And I am mad at myself for being lazy while at the same time totally rationalizing why I can’t get back on track. (You cannot even imagine how good I am at this game.)

Exercise time: I’m tired. I had a long day. I haven’t spent enough time with my daughter. I have to drive to another city to be with my husband. It’s too hot. I’m too hungry. My stomach is too full. It’s too early. It’s too late. It might rain. I might get sunburned. The place where the saltwater catfish barb stuck in the middle of my palm hurts (and, yes, it still does a little, even though that was 2 weeks ago). I didn’t bring the right shirt. This shirt doesn’t feel good today…

Later: Why didn’t you go run? You would have felt better. You are so lazy. You didn’t used to be this way. How did you ever do an Ironman? Why can’t you eat healthy? It’s not that hard. You really are so lazy.  And on and on.

Even later (approximately right now): Oh I’ll set my alarm for really early and go before it gets hot. See? I even set my clothes out. I will reward myself with a tasty coffee when I get finished. It will feel so good to get that accomplished.

Morning (probably tomorrow morning): ZZZZzzzzzzzzzz. <snooze> zzzzzzzzzzz <snooze> zzzzzzzzzz Why don’t I just reset this alarm for when I will really get up?

Every. Single. Day.

So, I need a new goal. That’s why my doctor prescribed the triathlon. She knows it’s not a big goal for me, but just the act of signing up for it might encourage me to sign up for something more. Sometimes I need a push. A gentle nudge, or a playful push, or a hard shove, depending on the particular situation.

Planning to move from our awesome city to a small, conservative town pushed me to find new things to focus on. (It turns out that I like to bake. I thought I was a shitty baker all this time, but it was really just that I have a shitty oven. The small town oven is great! I also like to do crafts, or at least attempt them… who knew?)

Not being able to find a job in an area closer to my husband’s job pushed me to talk to my boss and figure out an arrangement that allowed me to stay in our awesome city and house and will allow my incredible husband to try something new!

The Incident was a pretty big shove. But it pushed me out of the dark place into the open where I had to face my depression and the fact that it was serious. It forced me to admit that I couldn’t just “get over it” and I needed some help.

It always takes a push for me. A goal. So I’m going to set one. It’s going to be epic. Exciting. I am going to call it a goal and it will be something to strive for. I am going to put it in writing. Are you ready?!

 

Rather than trying to be perfect (and failing miserably), I will aim to be a little bit better than I was yesterday.

Boom.

There it is.

Once I can manage that for a week, I’ll build on it. I also have a secret goal (Do normal people have “secret goals” or is that just triathletes? Like when someone asks what your goal is for a race and you say, “Oh, I just want to finish.” But really you want to finish in a certain time… No? Just me, then.) My secret goal is to post something (even stream-of-consciousness drivel like this) once a week, maybe even for accountability. I haven’t decided on a day yet, so DON’T PRESSURE ME!

Or you can. Just call it a push.

Tired. Overwhelmed. Living.

So here I am. Finally getting to another blog post. And I am stressed. I know, that’s totally weird and out of character for me to be stressed. But I am more stressed than usual. And I am more stressed than I was expecting and stressing out about being when we were contemplating all the craziness that is currently stressing me out.

 

We are moving. Because small minded people tend to influence other small minded people, career prospects are limited for my awesome husband as a result of “The Incident” (see previous post for hints but not explanation….that comes later!) even though The Incident was my fault and not as simple as people would like for it to be.

 

But, I digress.

 

So, we are moving. Away. Not 1000s of miles away but about 1.5 hours away from our awesome home and even further away from my awesome family. I am thrilled that J has found a new position in an area that is excited to have him, and I am even more thrilled that he has found a new position that will allow him to continue to make the world a better place. He needed that. His heart was absolutely broken by the cruelty he saw following The Incident. He has always been such an honest person. He believes that everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. He is who he says he is. He believes everyone else is the same way. Over the past 18 months, the world has broken his heart and he realized that not everyone is honest, not everyone is kind, and not everyone is as understanding as he is. On the flip side, we realized that we have some of the best, brightest, and most incredible friends anyone could ever have the honor of knowing. J will do amazing things in this next phase of our lives, just like he always has.

 

And there I go. Digressing again. Back to the stress.

 

Moving. Because I feel that 90 miles is too far to commute on a daily basis, I am looking for a new job. This is something I haven’t done for 8 years. It sucks. It’s hard and it’s time consuming. It’s like a part time job, and I am having a really hard time doing this part-time job of finding a new job while trying to do a good job at my current full-time job. Whew. And I tend to try to be whatever people need me to be, rather than just being honest about what I need, so that’s a scary thing when interviewing.

 

My partner is gone. Not gone, gone, but not currently present. The partner who could throw that load of laundry into the dryer since I forgot and left it in the washer or who could mow the yard this afternoon since it’s the only time in the next 10 days it’s not supposed to rain or the guy who could drop off a bill payment or stop and get some milk because I forgot to or pick up our daughter or meet me for lunch when I had a bad day or meet me to ride our bikes for an hour because I didn’t really want to train. That partner is 1.5 hours away. And it sucks. Waking up extra early to drop G off before I go to work or making plans to pick her up or trying to clean house while spending quality time with my sweet, wonderful daughter who will never be 4 (and a half!!! She always reminds me) ever again or trying to ride on the trainer while she wants me to put the diaper back on her baby over and over is really a bit of a stress I wasn’t expecting at this particular moment.

 

Riding the trainer. Yuck. Had I known that I would have a part-time job finding a new job and looking for a new home and (kind of, but not really) being a single mom for the 3 months prior to September 28, I wouldn’t have signed up for the damn Ironman. As you might have noticed from previous posts, my training isn’t going as well as I would like. This (as I knew prior to signing up) training is a part-time job. And it is not getting quality work from me. Today I got to do my hour ride with some of the best company out there (Love you, B!) but tomorrow I get to swim for 1:15 BEFORE WORK. Ugh. Then bike 3 HOURS after work. Then pick up G (after a shower, I hope) and drive to J where we will spend the weekend in the absolutely cutest little room ever where he is getting to live right now. I will, unfortunately, miss the Michael Franti concert in Nashville (He is amazing. Go see him. Listen to him. He is just… wow.) The next day we will get to hang out and have brunch at The River Café. And G and I will drive home so that I can get up early the next day and do a 2:30 run before work.

 

I’m already tired.

 

No real inspirational message here. No words of wisdom. No specific encouragement in this post. Just me being whiney and tired and stressed. Letting you guys know that we are all stressed sometimes. Some of you are dealing with problems much bigger than mine. But we are all dealing with something. The next time you see someone sigh or look tired, give them a smile. We all need it.

 

(I thought about editing this stream-of-consciousness post, but decided to leave it as is.  My mind can’t focus on anything long enough to organize thoughts, and a streamlined, edited post would never get done.  Better messy and coarse than never, right?!)