Crystal Ball

I wish I had one, so I could see my husband's future.  J went off to work today with his head hanging low.  He said he has no hope.  He said he doesn't know what he's going to do.

After waiting around for this last week, hoping to hear about his promotion, J found out that they are now starting the interview process all over again with new people.  For him, that's pretty much a red flag that he didn't get the job.  He is beyond down in the dumps.  This is the sixth time he's interviewed for a promotion.  The sixth time he hears all the right things- "you are the number one candidate!"- and the sixth time he's faced rejection.  He always takes it hard.  

I tell him not to take it personally, I'm sure it was a business decision.  But he said how can he not take it personally?  They are rejecting him- his career with the company, his desire to move up, his leadership abilities, his dedication.  The sad thing is, J really really does love his job and loves the company and loves what he does for a living.  He wants to continue with his career, he's just ready to take it to the next level before that creeping sensation of burn out catches up with him.  It's hot on his heels right now and it gets closer with every day, every week.

So these are the times where I'm at a loss.  When you are the one who always needs support, always needs to be lifted out of the doldrums- it can be a daunting task to figure out the best way to help someone else.  I support J in his decisions, and I support him with his plans for our future.  I try to contain my anger and support him when, like today he said he has to work until 9pm on a review board that his boss is supposed to be handling but is making J do it instead.

As for me personally, I am totally defensive about my husband.  As his wife, the only person who sees all the behind-the-scenes action in his life, I know there is no one else as deserving as he is for a promotion.  No one as qualified.  No one who has put in his dues like J has.  But I am biased, I know.  For every person who interviewed for this job, I am sure they had someone cheering them on from home.  I will always cheer for J, he is the most amazing man and husband in the world.  But I don't know how to make him feel better about his "work" persona.  I say the right things- I'm sorry, it's okay, it will happen one day.  But I know it doesn't help his mental state right now.  This morning all he could talk about is- "what did I do wrong?"  He starts to beat himself up over some imagined flaw, something he must have said wrong in the interview.

This morning I told him, we will speak no more about this promotion.  We will go on with our life together.  If by some miracle he gets a happy phone call in a few days, then it will be a nice surprise and we will celebrate it.  If not, then we carry on today as scheduled- trying to fit in a visitation for a friend's brother amid J's multiple review board cases. We will go on with our plans for the weekend- lots of yard work and finding someone to paint our house a new color. Monday morning he will get up and go to work as he does at the start of every week.  We will go on with our normal days and nights and love each other and that's that.  I told him, if he doesn't get this job, it's for a reason. Yes I know that's a cliche, but I believe it.  Things do happen for a reason, even though you may never ever find out what that reason was.

J knows that I love him, but in this situation there is nothing I can say or do to make him feel any better.  He knows I'm going to love him no matter what job he has or what company he works for.  But once he gets to the workplace and all hell breaks loose- which it seems to do more and more often these days- then I'm not so sure my unwavering love offers any real comfort in those moments of high stress and fatiguing long hours.

Normally I leave him alone during the day, knowing how busy he is.  But lately I've been trying to call him more often at work, at lunchtime when I know he's in his office for a brief few minutes, to let him know I am thinking about him and I love him.  Some days I can hear the stress and hurriedness in his voice, other days I hear the softness in his words that says he's happy to hear from me.  I just wish I could wave a wand and make all his troubles disappear, and grant him the recognition and future he so rightly deserves!

But I know J.  He will put on a good front, he will seem as though he is shaking it off and moving forward but I know better- I know it will eat him up on the inside for a long time as it always does.  But he will call me tomorrow afternoon in a tired yet glad-the-week-is-finally-over voice and say let's go to dinner and a movie Friday night.  Saturday we will go to the garden center and get mulch for the flower beds.  Sunday we will sleep in and spend the morning over coffee and the newspaper. And one day, he will put in for another promotion.  But no matter what goes on during the hours when J isn't at the house, our life together- our REAL life here at home- will never change. We both take comfort in the certainty of that future.

MISS GEE

Can I Let Go?

It's odd but I knew a week ago that I would be posting today.  You see, this afternoon J flies "out west" for a job interview.  It's the second interview, and apparently he impressed them enough on the first phone interview that the company is willing to cough up a grand to ship him across the country for a face to face meeting.  He will be home tomorrow around midnight.  Since we moved here in 2008, this will be the sixth time J has chased after a promotion.  This time he might actually get it.  At least he's being fed information- which could be total bullshit- that he's the front runner for the job.  And yes we're cautious because he's been told that before, only to find out he was passed over.  Again.  But this time it seems more serious, even I think he might get the job and I am always the pessimist.  The regional HR person even stepped in and did a mock interview with him, coaching him.

The job is not quite the promotion he really wants- but it's a position that's above what he does now, but below what he wants to ultimately do.  It would be a good stepping stone though.  If he gets this job, he will either love it and be invigorated and be happy to continue with it until retirement.  Or he will hate it and be stuck and looking for a way out.  It's a chance he is willing to take.  At this point, the way his current job is going, nothing else could make him quite as miserable.  J tries to just brush it off and act nonchalant- we've already been through this so many times before.  But I think he wants this opportunity, this job, more than he's willing to let on.  This morning his stomach hurt, fraught with nerves over a meeting still 24 hours away.

Last Friday is a perfect example of how ridiculously shitty his job has become.  I've mentioned that J is over the entire operations of his building- 400+ employees, five or six departments.  He has five managers that work under him, and about a dozen supervisors under them.  But J is over it all.  Day and night, weekday and weekend.  So Friday morning the phone rings at 4am.  Not unusual, we're used to the phone going off at all hours.  But this time it wasn't good news, problems with the overnight crew, and so J hopped up right away and shot off to work.  We had tickets to a basketball game in the city that night, not until 7:30pm, no worries.  A long day for J, but he would manage.  In the afternoon he called me several times to say, things are going to crap at work, he is feeling sick, and he doesn't think he can get out of work in time for the game so he's selling the tickets online.  

Then when I'm sitting at home wondering when he will be home for dinner, he calls to say more problems, and HE has to drive an hour south to meet a customer to pick up product the guy was accidentally given that actually belongs to another customer, then take it back to the warehouse.  Why J?  J is an executive making six figures.  Can't someone else do it??  But everyone else just went home at their normal time to their families, without giving a shit about anything that was going on at work, the "someone else will handle it" mentality.  Why?  Because J always comes to the rescue and everyone has depended on that for all these years, so no one else makes an effort.  So all of this running about for J, over five small boxes of items for one customer.  J finally made it to the house at 11pm, indeed sick with something, and he couldn't make it home in time.  He had puked all over his clothes, his shoes, his truck, all over the driveway outside.  Then he spent the entire weekend in bed.

If I sound angry, it's because I still am.  For all of J's unwavering work ethics and dedication and leadership skills, he has a very unassuming manner and is easily taken advantage of.  At least that's how I see it.  He sees it as just doing his job.

So, that is unfortunately NOT a once in a lifetime day at work for J.  Crap like that happens all the time.  And I am tired of him always being the one to step up and handle problems that other people create ("That's what I get paid for" he says), and I'm tired of him never ever getting so much as a thank you from anyone ("People don't know what I do behind the scenes and I don't advertise it" he shrugs) and I'm tired of work always cutting into our family time ("It's the job that pays for all our vacations and good times" he reminds me).  So that makes me even madder every time he puts in for a promotion and gets passed over, especially the last few times when it was an unproven newcomer hired from outside the company.  To say that I hope with all my heart that J finally finally finally gets his chance this time, is an understatement.

But the flipside to the promotion is- this is a traveling job.  Full time travel.  Every week, every day.  J would only be home for the weekends, and sometimes- if he has to stay in the same place- he may not even come home on the weekend.  Anyone who reads my blog knows that time with J is already at a minimum and very precious to me.  So how can I be okay with giving up even more of it?  Simple.  I love J.  And I want this for him.  And frankly I have this little devilish side that thinks his current cast of coworkers will simply be screwed if he leaves, because no one there can do what J does.  No one else has the knowledge, the drive, the motivation to do what he does.  Not his boss.  Not the managers J personally handpicked and trained.

This promotion would have J traveling all over the country, to the 60+ other warehouses, helping them out.  He would go wherever he was needed, north or south, east or west.  And J would be excellent at that, he is outstanding at solving problems, overcoming challenges, figuring out new ways of doing things- he actually enjoys it.  And since he's been with the company for almost 20 years, there's nothing about operations that he doesn't know.  But having said that, each warehouse sort of does their own thing, so J is interested in this job because he feels it will be as much of a learning experience for him, and he's ready for something new.  J really needs this, for his sanity, for his soul which is being sucked dry by his current situation.  This new position, he would not be tied down to any single warehouse.  In fact, he wouldn't even have an office anymore, so his current warehouse gang probably wouldn't ever see him again.  Which means on days where he didn't travel he would be at home, if there are ever days he doesn't travel.  (The guy who had the job before finally retired after a LONG time, but he also said he was tired of all the travel to the north during winters.)  Plus, we could live anywhere we want to, as long as J is near an airport. With no "office" to go to, we don't have to live in any specific town or state.

A lot of the talks we've had lately are all the fun "what if" things.  Like, I could sometimes travel with him.  Or we could finally move to Florida.  He would start earning enough points with the airlines and hotels and rental cars we could take free vacations.  Work would be paying for his weekday meals now, cutting down some of our costs.  He would still get his four weeks of vacation every year, his holidays off.  We can put our FaceTime app to good use. We did talk about the negatives, him being away from home.  I told him, the changes are greater for him than for me.  Sure, he won't be home at night, but I'll still be here in my comfort zone- on our old couch watching TV, cuddling with the cats, sleeping in our bed.  He's the one who will be living out of a hotel room week after week. We talked about him sticking to a diet and exercising while he's on the road, and me doing the same when he's not here.  We've pretty much talked it all out. We go through this every time he interviews for a job. Hopefully this time, it will be our reality instead of just talk.

I think it would take time to get used to it, but I will be okay with J traveling.  Knowing that we are almost 50 and this won't be forever.  Knowing that he's not going off to war.  Knowing that it's not for six months straight without seeing him.  Knowing that it's a positive thing, and not something he's forced into doing against his will.  Knowing that there could even be some fringe benefits.  Right now during the week, I get J's company for a few minutes in the morning as we have coffee, and at night he normally doesn't come home until 8pm now.  We eat a hurried dinner, watch a bit of TV, then go to bed at 10pm.  So really, how much time during the week do we have together?  Would I be selfish enough to say eating dinner with him Monday through Thursday night, is more important than him taking a chance on what could be his dream job?  I would never do that.  I haven't even told my parents yet, they will have a total freak out, their "baby girl" home by herself like some helpless chick left alone in the nest.  I am already home alone every day an average of 13 or more hours a day, so it's really not going to be much of a difference.  As a struggling artist, I  am finally learning to appreciate those quiet hours and use them wisely.

I will post more about this as soon as I know something solid.

MISS GEE

Getting Along

The other day my sister-in-law came to stay with us for a few days.  She is a terrific spirit, a go-getter, and one of the happiest people I've ever met.  I do know she's lonely, but she keeps up appearances for the sake of her two teenage children.  She's divorced from her first husband, and her second husband made her a young widow.  She just recently broke away from the man she had been dating for awhile- he had proposed and she just didn't want the relationship to head in that direction, and the awkwardness of the rejection got in the way.  At lunch one afternoon, she asked J and I if we fought much.  We both looked at each other and said, never.  And that's true.  I told my sister-in-law that I spent my first marriage locked in mortal combat almost daily, and I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life with J that way.

Sure J and I disagree on things, but it never escalates, it rarely amounts to anything much.  I find that the few times we squabble, it's because one (or both) of us is tired or cranky or not feeling well.  It's not an argument so much as it is a subtle statement that "I'm in an ill mood right now, I really don't feel like having this discussion."  With W, even the nightly question of "what do you want to watch on TV?" could turn into an ugly, vicious attack and a nasty bout of screaming and name-calling.  It was a constant nightmare with the ex, we couldn't discuss anything, we couldn't agree on anything, we couldn't make plans together.  We couldn't even agree on pizza toppings.  That man disagreed with me just for the sake of disagreeing.

I don't know why J and I don't fight.  Perhaps it's our age.  I am certainly 1000 times more mature than I was 25 years ago when I was entering into my relationship with W.  I am sure J, who married his first wife when he was barely 20, is an entirely different man now.  Meeting as middle-age divorced people, you've already made all your mistakes and have hopefully learned from them.  I know I did.  When I met J, I already knew what I didn't want in a man and I knew what I wasn't willing to put up with.

J and I aren't boring robots.  We have completely opposite views on the big issues like politics and religion.  We have different preferences on the small things like music tastes, sports teams, and yes even pizza toppings. But none of that is crucial enough to argue over.  None of that matters enough to engage in battle with each other.  We discuss things rationally as adults, listen to each other, recognize and appreciate that we are different people who make a fantastic couple, and move on.  We know we won't ever agree on certain things  (I will never like pepperoni!), but our marriage and our relationship is more important than anything else. Who cares that when we go to vote for the president, we cancel out each other's choice?  We've learned to laugh about it.  He is one party, I am another, and that's how it will always be.  I don't want to change his mind and make him agree with me, that is ridiculous.

We've had one or two major blow-ups, but they were very early in our relationship and I think we weren't as comfortable in the marriage yet.  I look back on those few moments now and think, wow, I was a jackass, why did I make such a big deal out of that?  I remember how I felt during and after those arguments. Confrontation and strife do not bring two people closer together.  Browbeating your partner into agreeing with you is foolish and absurd and frankly dangerous to maintaining a calm, balanced future with one another.

For me, arguing wastes time and energy, hurts feelings, destroys your sense of security and trust.  It eats away at your peace and bond as a couple.  And compromise is not a dirty word.  It's an art.  It takes a lot of work and understanding and love for people to find a solution that makes both parties feel satisfied. Sometimes your partner is the one who gets to be 80% happy with the decision- you have to be good with the other 20% this time and be happy for his happiness.  Next time, it may be your partner who gets the short end of the straw, but know that he will be happy because he loves you and is okay with you being the winner in this round.  Resentment is an ugly monster that has NO place in a marriage.  Learning to calmly discuss the small things- like where to go on vacation- translates to harmony on the big things- like where to buy your next house.

Forgiveness and acceptance are also important.  Not the "I'm sorry" type of forgiveness but just a general give and take on things, the realization that we may have opposite opinions but it's all equal and valid.  You need to accept that your partner really really really doesn't share your opinion or doesn't agree with your decision, and YOU have to be okay with that and move on.  Your spouse doesn't have to agree with you on all things!  It's not the end of the world.  If your husband picks a movie you don't really want to go see, or wants Mexican when you're in the mood for Italian, is it really that big of a deal???

Go, do, enjoy, and you can pick the movie or restaurant next weekend!  Let it go, don't sit and stew over it and let it fester. Don't pout. Don't exaggerate the situation and think "I never get my way!" If you are truly dedicated to the relationship, you understand boundaries, and you know there are certain lines you just can't cross.  So don't!  Twenty years ago, W would have called me a selfish bitch and I would have called him an asshole, and we wouldn't have gone out to eat anywhere at all.  Picking apart the other person is childish.  Revel in your differences.  Don't use them against your partner.  You are a couple, but YOU are also independent and an individual.  Guess what?  So is your partner! This is how it should be.

The reason my sister-in-law was in town in the first place, was because J had a function in the city he wanted to attend.  It concerned one of those bigger subject matters that he and I just don't agree on.  I wouldn't budge- he respected that and didn't try to coerce me into doing something I truly didn't want to do. So he said he wouldn't go, but that's not what I wanted for him.  I didn't want to attend, but I didn't want him to miss out on something he was excited about. He would have preferred that I go with him, but in the end, we compromised.  He wanted to go, I didn't.  But I wasn't going to tell him not to go, and he wasn't going to force me to accompany him.  Instead we agreed to invite his sister to visit us so that she could go with  him.  She was delighted, they had a nice evening together, and we all had a great weekend.  Everyone was happy, everyone "got their way" in the end.  No one was hurt or sad or disappointed or angry.  No resentment.  That's how it should always be.

We didn't argue or fight about it.  It was just one moment, a few hours out of our long life together.  There is always a solution, just work together to find it instead of letting it turn into a quarrel!

MISS GEE

Seasonal Blues

Spring has cropped up all over the place here.  Everything is budding and blooming.  But we're not quite there.  Nights still drop down into the 40's and 30's. Days shoot up towards the 70's.  In the mornings the heat kicks on and I bundle up in front of the fireplace.  The afternoons find me stripping down to summer clothes and turning on all the ceiling fans.  At night J comes home and complains that he is cold.  His half of the bed has an extra blanket on top of the comforter and sheets.  Me?  I fling everything off at night because I'm sweating.  The small fan turned to high on my nightstand does little to help.

I very much have a love/hate relationship with this season of renewal and rebirth.  My favorite time of year- winter- is on its way out.  Soon my dreaded enemy- summer- will be at my front door.  Spring for me is a reminder of all my worst flaws and bad habits.  I think I love winter so much because it's an acceptable excuse to be lazy and moody and a motionless sack.  In summer, everyone expects you to be tan and upbeat and energetic and at your best.  I never am.  So I love spring for all its beauty, but I shrink from what it foreshadows.

Spring does have its moments, like this afternoon.  After a few days of torrential rains, today is sunny and warm with bright blue skies.  Even though my first instinct is to always stay safely tucked away inside the house, I take a stroll in the neighborhood, then I make myself go out onto the deck with my current book.  I remind myself that the body needs sunlight.  The cats come out there with me, and I find a bit of joy watching them turn their faces up towards the sun, their eyes closed.  Their ears twitch at the sound of birds chirping. They are so content, so still.  Do their little brains run nonstop with thoughts, the way ours do?  They are indifferent, loafing, useless creatures, and they are okay with that because it's their purpose in life.  They know we will love them no matter what, and we don't expect anything from them.

I've talked about my garden before.  I love the flowers and I love to plant, but I hate all the maintenance.  Weeding, watering, feeding, trimming, mulching.  I know friends who are happy to work tirelessly out in their yards, who sit and dream about summer coming.  The idea of it just wears me out.  Heat, humidity, sweating.  One afternoon in my flower bed can sideline me for a week with aches and pains and exhaustion.  But I know I have to do it.  I'm sure J doesn't want to spend all his weekends taking care of the yard, we have almost two acres to tend.  But he mows, weeds, edges, fertilizes, aerates, and everything else- not because he loves it, but because he knows that's part of responsible home ownership.  And he does warn me every spring- stop planting more flowers and bulbs because I have trouble taking care of what I'm already growing.  I never listen.

Right now I am simply too sore to think about anything like that.  My arms are black and brown with bruises from all the needles and blood work and labs I've had lately.  My insides are in pain from all the probing and poking around.  Last night I could barely get off the couch because of cramps and a backache, after a very intense internal ultrasound.  I don't want to go into details, but ladies if you don't know what I'm talking about, then you've probably never had one.  I've had three- they are not fun.  I know these doctor-related aches are temporary, in a week the bruises will be fading to yellow, and what will my excuse be?  And I know what the results will be from all this medical detective work.  I am old, I am tired, I am out of shape, I am menopausal.  I don't exercise.  I eat things that come out of a cardboard box instead of directly out of the ground.  I drink too much caffeine, eat too much sugar.  I don't get enough sleep.  Blah blah blah.  The same things that plague half of the women in this country!  Yet they continue on with their lives, and I stumble.

Unlike the ever changing seasons, everything that is wrong with me is completely in my power to fix.  Having a doctor tell me that to my face, will that change things?  Will a medical diagnosis of "overweight middle-age female going through menopause" really empower me?  My doctor won't tell me anything I didn't already know before all of the lab work and probing.  And if I haven't changed by now, I don't know what it will take.

MISS GEE

RIGHT????

Perfect Timing

Last week I was in that zone where just the tiniest thing set me off.  I get like that sometimes, when too many little changes come at me all at once.  On their own, they are small insignificant pecks that irritate me, and I brush them aside.  But pouncing on me as a collective, it's like I was mugged by an entire street gang.  And I don't know enough kung fu to survive.

To add to that frustrating week, J had to have minor outpatient surgery- very very minor.  But it still entailed him in pain, discomfort, and being heavily medicated.  (Sounds like a regular day for me.)  My normally Alpha Male husband was transformed into a small pouting child who needed mommy.  Napping on the couch, wanting an extra blanket, needing a glass of water, calling out for a pudding cup. Yes, really.  Three trips to the pharmacy, two extra trips to the grocery store because he had special dietary needs for the first few days.  Mind you I did all of this with love and joy in my heart, because he does the same for me, and I'm still after all these years so enchanted with him.  But the reality is I get frazzled beyond repair.

That first evening, going through the normal bedtime routine of turning on the porch lights for the night, I looked out the side door panel of glass to see a package on the front step.  We are both always ordering things off eBay or Amazon, so I figured it was just another delivery.  Imagine my delight when I brought the box in and saw the sender's name.  A new dear friend, who had hinted at me the week before that I should watch for something from her in the mail.  It was late, J was already struggling to make it to the bedroom, so I put the box on the dining room table.  The next day, tired, cranky, but with the ailing husband back to work, I headed off to yoga to unwind.  For the first time in a long time, I was not able to clear my mind and totally relax.  When it was time for Shavasana, while Snatam Kaur crooned about the deep blue sea, and my instructor softly implored us to listen to our breathing and just let go with each exhale- I just stared up at the ceiling thinking about stuff, life, chores, marriage, work, the world.  I couldn't shake it off that day, and left as stressed as when I arrived.

But when I got home, there was the box on the table with my new friend's name on the mailing label.  Inside, handwritten notes from my friend on some of the items, and a warm card.  A very cute notepad, because she knows I am a compulsive maker of to-do lists.  A beautiful tea cup, relaxing tea, and a gorgeous tea towel.  What a wonderful gift because as many coffee mugs as I have, I only have one sad little tea cup, chipped, brought home from the desk at my old job. There was the sweet bookmark with the bird, which I adore because I am usually reading 3-4 books at a time.  A candle that I immediately put up on the fireplace mantel and lit.  And of course chocolate, which I opened right away because I really really needed it that day.  How did she know!

It was as though I had packed the box for me!  Amazing how someone I've never met could peg me so well, and each gift was as thoughtful and meaningful as if I had shopped for myself.

The most special gift was a slender book.  I opened it and as soon as I read the introduction, my eyes welled up with tears.  I knew this book needed my undivided attention.  I read every page that afternoon, incredulous that the author was speaking so directly to me and describing me, my life, my heart, with perfect detail.  I was even more astounded that this little book was written a decade before I was even born.  Then I read the book a second time, and I read it as though I had written it about myself.  It could be my diary.  Who knew that women, couples, families struggled with the same emotions and feelings in the 1950's as they do now.  The world really hasn't changed that much after all.  People haven't changed.

And so I want to thank this new friend for her kind gifts, which came at a time that I needed and could appreciate them the most.  She will laugh that two minds think alike, because I have a very small gift ready for her as well, I was just waiting until I finished my current letter to her so I could mail them all in the same package.  Nothing extravagant, but I hope she will enjoy everything nonetheless.

Thank you dear friend!!

MISS GEE

Finding Purpose

Today is one of those days.  Last night I went to bed vowing to wake up today feeling better, having more energy, zipping off to my 10am yoga class which I haven't been to in over a month.  But I woke up with my typical headache and backache, shuffled around the kitchen making coffee and J's breakfast, and slumped down at the table to read all the horrible shit in the newspaper.  Including the article about the police officer and father of four, gunned down by a drunk psycho yesterday just blocks away from J's office.  The day before at the intersection J drives through twice every day, that last turn at the corner of the street to his parking lot, a young woman was killed when another person slammed into her car- that person was speeding away in a stolen vehicle.  This world of ours.

I had a nice respite yesterday and I ended my day in a better mood.  It was in the 70's, I was able to open the windows and get fresh air and hear the birds.  I went to town in the afternoon for quick errands- dropping off a few Etsy sales at the post office, putting money in the bank (always a good thing), and perusing the aisles at the thrift store after I donated a big bag of clothes and shoes.  Sunny.  Good music on the radio.  I even came home and had a very productive evening, putting together several dozen necklaces for my booth, which is still technically a dream at this point.

This morning it's still warm out but pouring rain, the gray heavy stuff that puddles on the sidewalk and creates small lakes in the yard.  The temp will drop to 40 by lunchtime, and will be in the 20's tonight. Did I want to go to yoga that badly?  Nah.  I talked myself out of it before I even finished my first cup of coffee. Like it was an outdoor class, instead of in a clean cozy studio with warm cork floors.  Then as the minutes ticked by, I got angry at myself for not going, because it's the one thing that helps with the miserable body aches.  So I still continue to feel like crap, physically, which always leads to the mental side of it.  Getting in my head.  My body aches, and it won't be long before my brain does too.

That's my M.O.  Say I'm going to do something, promise myself I will do it, talk myself out of it with a lame excuse, then get righteously pissed off at myself for not doing it.  Over and over, every day.

At breakfast I crumbled a bit.  I try my best to never start J's day off with my whining, so I usually keep my stuff to myself.  We read the paper, talk about local news, talk about what he has coming up at work that day, talk about what we want to do this weekend.  But this morning I just grabbed my head wildly.  I said to him, I just need to shake this off!  He said, the blues?  (That's our genteel code word for my depression.)  It wasn't that, and I couldn't put it into words for a moment.  Then I said, I just need to FOCUS.  On something, anything.  His first answer was, of course, focus on my health but that's always his go-to topic for me.  Eat better.  Take my vitamins.  Exercise.  All are things I have a tendency to forget to do, or make really awful excuses as to why I didn't "have time" to do them.  But then I realized he is right.  There really are days when I am so beleaguered with what's inside of me, I do forget the simple tasks of taking pills.

I have too many of those days where, at 8am I open the dishwasher to unload the clean dishes from overnight.  At 3pm I walk back through the kitchen and the door is still open but only half the dishes were put away.  Does everyone have days like this?  Or is this my own personal brand of foolishness?  Am I really that lazy, or does my mind just simply drift off in the middle of such an uncomplicated undertaking?  What can I do to change this behavior?  I have to know.  Maybe it's the same phenomenon that took me from being that efficient 5am 5-minute shower person, to a midday 40-minute hot bath soaker.

I've written about it before, but when I worked I could multitask and complete major projects like nobody else- I even had 5 statues sitting on my desk for all the awards I'd won for my diligent work ethic.  I was single-minded, unstoppable, reliable.  Now that I'm at home, that has fallen apart.  It's like that fierce, smart, motivated part of my brain got left behind at the office.  Even though I have clearly defined goals for myself, I'm not working towards any of them at any steady pace.  Time slips through my fingers so easily now, hour by hour, and that's part of why I feel so useless.  What did I accomplish today?  Did I do anything worth mentioning? Why do I think I have to complete something monumental every day?  I'm alone at home, what exactly is there here that is so earth-shattering?  Hell, I can't even get the cats to stop peeing in the corner of our bedroom.

It's not enough to keep the kitchen and bathrooms clean.  It's not enough to pack my husband's lunch every morning.  It's not enough to take the recycling on Mondays, put out the garbage on Thursdays, do the dry cleaning on Fridays. It's not enough to pick up and drop off and clip coupons.  It's not enough to be a housewife anymore.  It's enough for J, he is pleased with those domestic changes in me.  And I'm not saying I want to jump out there into the working world again. Why can't I run a business from here?  Why can't I start a project here- and finish it?  Why can't I be useful again?  Why can't I ever do more than just talk about it!  I just want to find "that woman" I used to be, and put her to good use keeping up my new life at home.  I try to remind myself that as far as J and I are concerned, I am "retired".  Why do I think I have to do anything!

I've given serious thought to hiring a life coach, but that seems so Hollyweird for a plain and simple stay-at-home-person going through normal midlife pangs.  I don't need to save the world.  Just myself.

MISS GEE

Appointments

I have decided that I need some answers.  I can't believe that I'm meant to spend the rest of my life feeling unfocused, lethargic, callous.  I have a great life, and I'm tired of hating it.

I've scheduled an appointment with my primary care physician in a couple of weeks.  She's been my doctor for six years now, and she's seen my ups and downs.  All of the medications I'm on, she's the one who put me on them.  Most of all, she's easy to talk to and she listens.

I took down notes from my last few calendars, where I write pertinent info like weight, periods, sex.  All the things a menopausal woman would need to keep track of.  Looking back over the last three plus years, there were a few startling discoveries that I wasn't even aware of.  Living day to day, you don't notice some things happening- or not happening.  Having 38 months laid out in front of you, patterns emerge.

So it's time to see if my doctor is willing to do some poking around.  Blood, pee, saliva.  Whatever I need to hand over.  My notes, too, to see if she thinks my issues are due to hormones or any of my medications.

I feel as though my body is betraying me.  It's time to figure it out and make some changes.

MISS GEE

Sad And Tired

I am really in such a sad state of blah lately, and I am tired of feeling that way.  I'm tired that I can't seem to ever move forward in my life.  Even the blog, which I think about often but rarely get to.  I have such poison in my brain on most days, and I don't want to put it on the screen in front of me.  But it's still there, my eyeballs still see it inside my mind, whether or not I share it in black and white.

I feel like I have so many irons in the fire, I have so many directions that I need to go, so many projects to focus on, so many items on my to-do lists.  And yet they are all irrelevant in the real world.  Maybe they are only big deals in my little sphere of reality here inside the walls of this house.

I have no reason for complaints.  No reason for excuses.  I feel sorry for myself then get pissed off at myself for feeling that way.  No one treats me as badly as I do.  I have things in my life that I should celebrate- we just paid off our house!!- but joy always eludes me.  Then again, I don't expend much energy trying to chase after it either.

I see stories of overcoming the odds and courageousness every day, but I know I don't have that inside of me.  J enables my antipathy because he loves me. His "it's okay" hugs sometimes make me feel even worse. Like a repeatedly disappointed father showing encouragement to his failure of a child.

Lately I get so overwhelmed with the little things.  What I want to do, and what I actually do, are universes apart.  I can set goals for myself all day long, but as evening rolls around I wallow in the pitiful truth that I am incapable, a fraud.

One word to describe myself?  Useless.  To describe my life?  Pointless.  To describe the things I do?  Meaningless.

I know, I know.  Get my head out of my ass, get over all the drama, and get on with living.  What else is there to do?

MISS GEE

This Year Needs To Be Better

I'm going to try to write this and post this all on the same day.  Normally it takes me a week to finish a post.  I add and rewrite and spell check a hundred times, I would be an editor's worst nightmare if I wrote for a living, the way I always dreamed I would.  I promised myself AGAIN, that I will post more often and in order to accomplish that, to write shorter posts.  We'll see how that goes starting with this one.

2015 kicked off on a pretty good note.  We spent half of January- 15 days- on vacation.  We enjoyed the sun, the sand, the blue ocean, good food, shows, shopping, nature, and most of all- time together relaxing.  We even had lunch at a restaurant sitting on the smoking rim of an active volcano (photo).  Well hell, I suppose I can't ask for anything more.

2015 has me in a hopeful frame of mind.  2014 ended on a crappy note with the holidays and some other things going on.  Family, jobs, friends, health- all those things that can sometimes be stupid and annoying when they should be amazing and comforting.  I was glad for Christmas and the entire 2014 holiday season to be over with finally.  I was ready for a fresh new year and a clean slate.

I am in the process of reworking my business plan as far as my jewelry/pottery goes.  Online sales have been dismal so I'm trying to move away from Etsy a bit, or at least revamp my shop.  This year I plan to branch out into the real world and start setting up at the dozens of local craft fairs and street festivals.  We have a ton of them in this area.  I know I'm not ready to do the great big (expensive!) shows, but I think I can handle the monthly craft fair around the courthouse square downtown.

It's good to have something to focus on, besides pain and loneliness and the winter weather.  The more time passes me by, the more I realize that it's not going to stop and patiently wait for me to get my shit together.  I've got to jump in with both feet and get off my ass.  I feel as though I've wasted the 1 1/2 years that I've been full time at home now.  I could have/should have accomplished SO much more at this point!  My life is going to be whatever I make out of it.  So far, I've made a mess.  I'm ready to get it together in 2015!  I really really am!

MISS GEE

Decisions

Everyone makes them.  Decisions that is.  Some bad, some good.  Some decisions you won't see the outcome for many years.  Some cause instant gratification. Some people may feel that making decisions is out of their hands, but that is just an illusion.  We make decisions every day, starting with the alarm going off in the morning.  Do I bounce out of bed now, or do I hit snooze and cuddle under the covers for a few more minutes?  You make decisions all day long, about every little thing you do- or don't do.  It continues until the evening when you yawn and think, should I go on to bed or should I read/work/watch TV a little longer?

The Thanksgiving holiday gave me moments to ponder this.  How my decisions create the life I live, and how the decisions of people in my early years also played such a huge part in "making" me who I am.  I didn't grow up rich, but I grew up with two parents who stayed together and set good examples.  My father always worked, my mother always stayed at home to raise us.  They didn't drink or smoke, and didn't cuss in front of us, didn't do drugs, didn't break the law. We were taught to not steal, not cheat.  I grew up not struggling, not wanting for food or shelter or clothes.  Some people will say I was lucky.  I don't believe that.  I believe that MY parents were the people they were, because of the decisions of their parents, and so on.  Both of their sets of parents worked hard and lived good lives, so my parents continued the tradition, and my sister and I both adhered to that way of thinking.  My sister is now raising two sons who don't get in trouble, do well in school, have friends, don't talk back, who do what their parents tell them to do, who say please and thank you and yes sir.  And because of that, I believe my nephews will both be successful and balanced and hopefully happy men.

Stopping at a gas station over the holidays, we found three young people in the parking lot trying to make their way to California.  The girl was strumming her guitar, singing, and even though they were obviously having issues, you could hear joy in her voice and see the smile on her face.  I had planned to get myself a coffee and a snack, but instead gave her the dollars in my pocket.  After putting gas in our own truck, J offered to fill up their car, which they gratefully accepted.  We could have walked on by like everyone else and went about our own business, but we like- and want- to do the right thing and help when we can, because we are fortunate and in the position to spare a few bucks.  The decision to help them out may not make a real difference in the end, but hopefully it made a difference that cold night.  Hopefully they will pass it on if they ever come into a similar situation.

At Thanksgiving with J's family, his younger sister invited two strangers, a homeless couple, to share the day with us.  I think at first it took us all by surprise, no one knew what to think or do.  But in a house filled with four generations and 15 family members, having two more at the table wasn't a burden.  They were living in their car at a truck stop, he was working a few hours a week at a barely-minimum wage job, and she was pregnant.  So they spent a few hours in a warm home, ate a big meal, and took enough leftovers with them to hopefully see them through another day or two.  Maybe the gesture was small and was only one dinner, but perhaps they wouldn't have eaten at all that day if not for the invitation.  We don't know, we didn't judge, we just said- here please have more there's plenty for everyone.

These stories have two sides.  The decision to help out people when they are having a tough time, is really an obvious one to make.  I know there are scammers out there, panhandling as a "living", but a lot of folks just need a small break in life.  And maybe the only break they get that day is a dollar from a stranger.  That's our side- we have the easy part, as the "giver" who can afford to give, as the people who have enough to share with others in need.  But it made me think about how we got to that point, as well as how the other side got to where they were at.  Maybe someone is homeless because of a job loss, but maybe they are homeless because of terrible decisions that they made.  The man that came to our family dinner did admit to being a convicted felon, for burglary.  He had been a successful construction worker before, and lost his house because of his crime and jail time.  That was his decision to rob someone. And he says now, because of that, he can't find decent employment to support his family.  I feel sympathy for their situation.  But no one made him commit a robbery.  Now his child will be born to a mother who sits alone in a small compact car in a parking lot all day long, waiting for her husband to come back from his shift at a fast food place.  Because he made a bad decision.

The decisions that both J and I have made over the years- individually before we met and as a couple since we've been together- have cemented the life we share.  Decisions about jobs, about partners, about how to spend or save money, about who we befriended.  Decisions about what to eat or what not to drink. Decisions about earning what you have, and not taking what doesn't belong to you.  The decision to not punch out your boss because he's a dick, the decision to leave a relationship that has become abusive, the decision to avoid people who will lead you down the wrong pathway.  It's a choice to avoid the bad- don't do drugs, don't drink and drive, don't lie to others, don't steal from the store or break into someone's house, don't kill anyone.  It's a choice to embrace the good- forgiveness, truth, love, honesty, working hard, commitment.

I'm in a good place now, but I've known those lean years.  I've had those years of no health insurance but getting sick, of renting an old mouse-infested house and being glad for it, of driving a 20-year-old piece of crap car but having days when I couldn't afford to put gas in it so I walked to work or took a bus.  In any of those situations I could have decided to steal what I wanted or ignored the bill from the walk-in clinic or found excuses not to show up at my work.  I've had to make that decision to get a second crappy job on top of a full time job that exhausted me, just so I could pay those bills and have that place to live.  That was my choice.  I may have hated that job, it may have sucked, it may have been "beneath" me- but I grew up with parents who made similar decisions to work multiple jobs and always pay their debts and bills.  So I made the same decision.  I have free will.  I could have just shrugged my shoulders and said oh well fuck it all.  That too would have been a choice.  But I didn't go that route.  Some people do.

Decisions- good and bad- can snowball sometimes.  For yourself or others.  Sometimes you can't see beyond a choice and how it directly pertains to only you at that moment.  Deciding to eat a chocolate chip cookie every day may seem like a little thing, but it may be the one thing that causes me to die of a heart attack, and leaves my family behind, devastated.  Deciding to finally clean up my space and take an old dress I never wear anymore to Goodwill, may be the first step for a single mom to get a better job and lift her entire family up.  Everyone can make a decision to change something. Today I will decide to not buy a pack of cigarettes for myself and instead buy a bag of apples for my children.  Today I will smile at the coworker who is always rude to me.  Today I will take a walk around the block instead of watching another sitcom. Today I will call my mom.  Today I will cut off that person in my life who always drags me down.  Today I will pay attention in class then study, instead of partying all night. We do many of these things every day without putting any thought into them, and maybe we should be more mindful of each choice we make and what it may lead to.

Maybe those people we helped over the holidays- with money or food- have had bad luck on their side since before they were born.  Perhaps their parents made horrible choices in life, which in turn paved their road with even more bad decisions to come.  I really do try not to judge.  I would like to think that everyone can make good choices and better decisions, no matter their station in life, and I know I'm naïve to say that.  Maybe you can't make the big decisions- about jobs or finances- because you aren't in a position to have those choices available to you.  But I would like to think that no matter your circumstances or upbringing, you can make the every day decisions for yourself to be faithful, to always tell the truth, to uphold the law, and to say no thanks when others around you are not choosing so wisely.  Small ideals, but who knows what those seemingly insignificant decisions will do for that person's life and the people around them.

MISS GEE

Better and Better

Just a quick note from me, to all the folks who (don't) read me.  I am doing well, at least for me.  I'm maintaining- my sanity, my weight, my balance.  And that's okay, and I want to be okay with it being okay.  Pitiful that I can't reach for the stars, but instead I'm happy just to have an ordinary day like the rest of the planet.

I don't mean to ignore the blog, in fact I think about it every day.  In bed at night when I can't shut off my brain, I think about all the things I want to blog about.  Then I just have days where I struggle even putting thoughts together, much less finding the motivation to sit down and type.  But we've been busy too.  A pair of vacations since my last post, and a few weekends in the mountains.  Family coming in this weekend and the next week, and we're off for five days at Thanksgiving.  Luckily my entire contribution for Thanksgiving every year is bringing one side dish, and showing up- which J takes care of since he does all the driving up the interstate.  Another mountain weekend in early December.  Family here at Christmas for at least a week.  Two back to back family birthday celebrations after Christmas that send us out of town again.  Then we have a two-week vacation in late January.  February sees our anniversary and J's birthday, both which usually have trips attached to them.  It seems like something is always on the calendar.  Most people swear we are never ever home.  It feels like that.  I love going off on adventures with J, but I sure do also love my quiet days at home.

I am always more content at this time of year. The cold weather- at least when it's bright and sunny and clear outside- does my heart and spirit good.  It's my favorite season: Winter In The South.  Like everywhere else, it's already been colder and arrived earlier than normal here.  My days have been spent cleaning up the garden, reading with afternoon coffee at hand, and time in the kitchen making soups and stocks.  That's about it.  I haven't started decorating for Christmas yet, although I will soon.  There's just something about putting away the pumpkins and leaves before Thanksgiving that is wrong to me.  It's turkey time, Santa needs to wait his turn.

J and I are both at a bit of a divide.  Not with each other, no never.  With ourselves.  My battles are daily, with my depression.  I am deeply committed to my twice-weekly yoga now, and it helps more than I expected.  I've upped my vitamin intake, and decreased my junk food habits.  Every little bit helps, but it will always be an ongoing process for me.  2014 was definitely better than 2013.  And I'm making plans already to have 2015 be even better.  There are so many areas I need to work on, besides my mental health.  My physical health, my business, my spiritual side.  I want to learn to accept that I am who I am- I don't need to be like anyone else out there, and I don't need to meet anyone's expectations other than my own.  All I want to do is find my own sense of balance in my life.  Balance between artist and housewife, between happy and angry, between going on and shutting down, between doing what I want to do and doing what needs to be done.  My hopes and desires don't always coexist, sometimes the many factions within me go to war.  Overcoming that is my challenge.

J on the other hand is struggling with his feelings about his job, and is trying to focus on his attitude.  He has even suggested to me, that I need to tone down the negative comments, because I like to be a complete smart ass about everything, even tragedies on the news.  It's my way of being funny and dealing, but J says it isn't healthy to always be so snide and derogatory and cynical.  I agree and I'm working on it.  He's even asked me not to cuss so much, because I use the F-word in pretty much every sentence without even realizing yet.  I'm awful, and I actually have to make a monumental effort to say shoot instead of shit.  Sad.

J's been listening to Joel Osteen every morning and evening in his truck. I think the guy is a complete douche bag, but whatever the messages are, they are helping J to have a more positive experience, so I bite my tongue.  I've stopped making fun of J for getting into it.  I don't let him listen when I'm in the vehicle with him, just like I don't let him listen to his ultra-conservative political junk.  If I'm going to survive life, it won't be because some pompous windbag yapped motivational rhetoric at me through the satellite radio.  Anyhow.

Have a wonderful holiday, however you celebrate it at your home.  I will be back soon.

MISS GEE

I Can't Help

I really did want to post today, I have several half-written pieces saved as drafts but just can't seem to find the time, energy, or desire to finish them.  I told my physical therapist yesterday, I've been in a funky zone lately, completely tuned out.  Like, I pull up in front of the grocery store but honest to god can't remember actually driving there.  Seriously.  I spent all day in town yesterday running errands and going to appointments, but if I had to sit down and write out my itinerary, I wouldn't be able to remember it all.

J is at his physical and emotional limits at work, he is stretched to his breaking point.  I know if he had other options, he would leave. My parents visited over the holiday weekend, and my dad asked him how it was going, and J told him he hated his job and wished he could quit.  He is the busiest and most stressed out that he's ever been, and it's all because he spends his days fixing problems that other people cause.  His job is making him sick, physically.  He's having headaches, he's waking up exhausted after long nights of no sleep, he's depressed.  I've never seen my husband like this before, and I am powerless to help him.  He unfortunately did not get the job with the new company that he interviewed with a few weeks ago, and I think he had pinned all his hopes on that being able to rescue him from his current situation.  He wants to walk away from the company, as soon as possible.  He just has to have somewhere else to go to first.

My stomach has been hurting ever since he left for the office this morning, just thinking and worrying about him.  He's never struggled so much with the job. He's never let it get to him this much before.  Every morning I walk him out to his truck, and we talk for a few minutes as he's loading up the huge backpack he brings home every night- the one with his laptop and filled with papers from work.  He said he wants to feel passionate about his job again, the way he used to, before the stress and unattainable deadlines and forced shortcuts and hostile directives from corporate.  He is too overwhelmed to feel anything but relief when Friday night rolls around, and yet he spends all weekend at home working as well.

Last night he was complaining about his chest hurting, but said not in a "call 911" kind of way.  This morning he was saying his face was hurting him.  He doesn't normally get headaches, he's not used to them.  This is the man who, in 15 years with the company, has never called out sick once.  Ever.

Saturday morning we leave for vacation.  He told me he doesn't know what he would do right now, if we didn't have this break coming up.  I'm hoping that once we drag our luggage through the big doors at the world's busiest airport, then land at the country's busiest city, all the work worries will melt away.  At least for that week.  I can't promise that he won't be "thinking" about work- he will still be checking emails, he will still be fretting over what new project awaits him upon his return, he will still stress with the anxiety over what got missed or forgotten or just plain screwed up while we was out.

Not being able to help your loved one sucks.

MISS GEE

Warped

It's super early as I start this post, still pitch black outside the office window. In the glow of a street light I can see the shape of a rabbit in the front yard, nibbling on pears that fell from our tree during a windy storm yesterday evening.  All of the cats have already gone back to sleep, scattered all over the house. J had to get up at the unbearable hour of 5am today, and as always I get up with him to spend those few moments together. Well I guess he didn't "have" to get up that early, he is just compelled by his dedication to his job to do it.  He knows he will be in a meeting from noon until 6pm today- some safety training- and normally on Mondays he spends most of his day running reports for the corporate offices.  He felt he needed to go in a few hours early in order to get all of "his" work done.  My husband doesn't know how to delegate- he's the boss but doesn't want to burden any of his employees with extra duties, even for one morning.  It makes me proud and annoys me at the same time.  Proud because that's the kind of man he is, but annoyed because it cuts into our lives.  I have to remind myself that it's a life we wouldn't have, if not for that paycheck, so it's in my best interest sometimes to just suck it up and not whine too much.  When he left this morning and said he would see me in 14 hours, he wasn't exaggerating.  And it wouldn't surprise me if it was longer than 14 hours.

One of our morning rituals is reading the paper together over coffee, before he rushes off to work.  When I was working, this didn't happen.  I went into the office before he was even awake, so he was left alone in a dark empty house every morning- suffering through an endless variety of K cups instead of the strong pot of freshly ground coffee that I now have waiting on him once he's showered and dressed.  So no matter what time he gets up, I'm up too.  I suppose I could have gone back to bed this morning- it was still dark out, and is supposed to be rainy all day.  But once I'm up I never do, I'm not much of a sleeper. Yesterday he worked in the yard all day laying stones around the flower beds for me, trimming hedges, digging up some bulbs that need to be transplanted. Together we made a video of him taking the Ice Bucket Challenge so we could post it online. I worked in the house doing laundry, vacuuming, scrubbing down the kitchen. It was a nice Sunday at home.  So for my Monday, it's going to be a nicer chore-free day and I will try my hardest not to feel guilty about that.  I will read, I will work on pottery, I will catch up on emails.  Every morning, just for laughs, J reads our horoscopes.  "Let's see what kind of day you're going to have" he tells me each time.  We try to dissect and predict the meaning of each other's- oh that must mean I'm going to do laundry today, or that must mean your boss is going to forget your meeting this afternoon.  And then, for extra fun, he picks one word to replace with another nonsensical one, to make me laugh- or to see if I'm really listening.  Today my horoscope said I should be "in neutral" and do something that I enjoy. Hey, the heavenly stars don't have to tell me twice, and who am I to argue with the universe?

I don't take for granted those few short minutes every day that we spend together, and I don't intend to miss out on them.  I have friends who are already widows.  I have friends who have husbands that barely grunt at them.  I have friends who bicker with their spouses to the point that I want to say, geez why are you two still married?  Having already gone through a drawn out (shitty) marriage and (long overdue) divorce, I understand how wonderful and amazing it is to have someone like J in my life.  It's been almost 11 years for us.  It's crazy because I was with W for 13 years, yet that seems like it was just a blink of an eye compared to what I have, what I've done and seen, who I've become since I've been with J.  Maybe it's maturity, I don't know.  As a young wife in my 20's, with a young husband fresh out of college and still acting like a moron, it was challenging to say the least.  And people change and grow- sometimes they grow closer but many times, like in my case, they grow so far apart that it would be like building a bridge from California to Hawaii in order to continue on as a couple.

If a repeat of this weekend, this morning was my life from this day forward, I would be pretty happy.  I know many times my depression seems to make me "think" I'm not happy, I'm not satisfied with my life, that I'm not in a good place.  But I know logically that I am.  There really isn't anything that could make it better.  I don't have the typical worries that many people do, I don't really have any genuine fears hovering over my shoulder.  Sure I could sit and fret over what would happen to me, if something awful happened to J, but that is pointless and if my mind does wander there I quickly rope it back the other way. Depression and anxiety definitely screws with your brain, and your thought process, it steals your bliss, it makes your body freeze up when you are simply getting ready to head out to the grocery store and you start worrying about being hit by a truck and oh my god, will J end up with someone else once I'm dead and will he love her more and oh my god I don't want my husband touching another woman.  Yeah, really, my head does go there sometimes, and that's f*cked up and crazy and, well, sometimes I can't help it.  I do wish J understood my depression better, although maybe it's my fault for not wanting to burden him with the true depths of it.  He is still under the impression that if I would take my vitamins, eat better, exercise, and get sunshine, it would make it all better, make it all go away.  I know he is being sweet and thoughtful, not dismissive.  He doesn't understand that the depression is truly like a physical weight that is pushing me down, smothering me, sitting on my chest and damn well suffocating me.  He's seen me in the middle of a panic attack before, but he doesn't see the pain, the fear, the uncontrollable reactions.

I do tend to focus on the negative, and I think J has come to expect that and be okay with it.  For instance, this weekend I was busy working on some things for our next vacation in three weeks, to New England.  I was planning a day trip along the coast of Maine, all the quaint little towns and shops and diners.  After a few hours of research on the computer, and compiling and mapping out a list of places to visit, I started the conversation with J this way- "As long as we don't have bad weather, I think we'll enjoy it" and his response was to look over at me with a genuine warm smile and simply say "We will have a good time".  I couldn't help myself, not even then.  I had to worry about rain, three weeks from now, in another state.  That is me.  SO me.  I don't know which is the chicken and which is the egg- does depression trigger anxiety, or does the constant anxiety cause the depression?  Does it matter, when you are in the grips of both? Instead of casting aside my worries as ridiculous, J always talks to me about why I'm thinking that way.  He gives alternatives, makes me walk through the issue step by step and tries to offer better solutions, real solutions, instead of that sheer screaming thought that I won't be able to manage it, I won't be able to do it. He is very much like a therapist, with the voice of calm and reason.  I guess that's because he's spent his entire life in management and handles the crises of employees every day.  He is paid big bucks to remain cool and to find the answers and to guide people.  I am glad that is deeply ingrained in his soul and that he brings it home to me every day, because I need it.  Without him, I would fly off the handle and just keep spinning out of control.  I know I have a few deep fears that J can never fix- like driving through big cities- but on a day to day basis he keeps me at least 90% sane.

I know my blog seems disjointed, repetitive.  Sometimes I have it already planned, what I want to post about.  Most of the time, I just write what I'm feeling or thinking at the moment- whether it's rehashing the past or fretting over the future.  Sometimes, like today, it turns into something else.

My depression wasn't what I wanted to talk about today, but when I sat down at the blog, I decided to just block out what I really wanted to post about. Instead I decided to try and focus on the positive- like the morning paper and coffee with J- and think on the things that aren't causing me anxiety.  I spent way too many hours over the weekend dwelling on things that made me immobile with fear and worries and a swarm of "what if" questions buzzing nonstop in my head.  Until I started to have a migraine, until my chest started to hurt with the pressure of not being able to take a deep breath, until I wanted to cry but instead rubbed my eyes raw trying to stave off the tears.  Right now J is the one feeling the stress and he needs me to be strong and support him, and that is something that I can do.  Change can be good, I have to keep telling myself that.  And I have to remember that no matter what, J is going to be there for me, with me, no matter where we are at or what we are going through.  And I keep telling myself that I make issues into potentially bigger problems, but it's just a symptom of the anxiety, and it doesn't have to be my reality.

MISS GEE

A Crisis of Being

I've definitely been feeling that old sense of worthlessness lately, and I don't know why.  On a whim I decided to browse online last night, wishing to stumble upon perhaps a blog or chat group, for people who feel the same way I am feeling.  My search was for "childless housewives".  I was hoping to find a support group, anything.  Everything I found was super old, nothing current.  One blog that I found to be newer, I checked her most recent posts and found she is now pregnant, so no longer relevant for me.

I found one odd website where people just write in questions and leave it open to anyone's response.  A woman wrote the passage below, and even her title struck a familiar spot inside me.  I could have easily written this post!

***WHAT AM I NOW?
I recently became a homemaker without kids, and I'm feeling weird about it.  I used to have a busy professional practice. I developed a serious chronic illness, struggled with work for some years, then finally had to take some time off from work. During this absence, my husband and I discovered that we are both much happier to have me at home. I was never that crazy about work, we get along fine without the money, and our lives are more enjoyable because I'm not constantly exhausted and miserable and have the time and energy to do things to make our life nicer, basic things like cooking and cleaning and doing leisure activities that I never had the energy to do before. We are now thinking that perhaps I just won't return to work. I can do whatever I like--work part time, pick up some work now and less work later, whatever; it's a family business and it's all very flexible. However, the social aspects of this change are very confusing to me. When people ask me what I do, I still say "I'm a [member of a certain profession]." This feels like a lie. I'm not really working right now and don't know if I will in the future. People know that I'm home and not at work. But it feels to me that unless you're extremely wealthy or extremely poor, it's socially unacceptable to be "just a housewife." I am adamantly opposed to going around telling people about my health problems. I'm a private person. And I'm not disabled, I just don't have the physical stamina or mental acuity to work the way I used to, and, well, life is just better this way. The problem is not only how to present myself to new acquaintances, but also how to frame my new life to myself. It seems that if you have kids, even if they're in school all day, it's okay to stay home. You're a stay-at-home mom. Or if you are an artist, or a writer, then it's okay to stay home, even if you make hardly any money at it. If you have enough money, then it's okay to spend all your time with your horses or whatever. But I don't fall into any of these categories and I fear, quite reasonably, I think, that people with think of me disparagingly.  Am I wrong? How would you view someone in my situation? Can you help me find a way to frame this both to myself and to others? Thank you.***

Wow, I wanted to reach out to this person and say YES, this is me, this is how I feel and I thought I was the only one out there!  But it was posted anonymously. And in 2011.  There were plenty of responses, and I would say they were all positive.  Lots of other folks wrote to say they are in a similar situation.  Others wrote to say there is absolutely nothing "wrong" with not working "by choice" and living off one income.

J is happy with our decision, as long as I am happy with it.  I'm not UNhappy being at home.  I'm almost 50. I worked full time- sometimes 7 days a week and two jobs at a time, sometimes 12-14 hour days, sometimes working all day while going to school at night, and all of it while juggling the duties of wife- for 30 years. I should just recognize how fortunate I am, that we can pay the bills on one paycheck and still have a bit left on which to have some fun.

I still struggle with my current identity, as the writer above stated- Who Am I Now?  When people meet us they ask what we do, and we all answer with our job titles and company name.  No one ever says, yeah I just sit around the house all day doing nothing.  Sure I could say I'm an artist and give the name of my Etsy shop and hand them one of my business cards, but even to suggest it sounds lame.  That's not a "real" job, it's not a "real" business.  When people ask J he gladly states that I make pottery and sell it online, but I think he over-exaggerates it a bit like a proud parent lovingly boasting of their first-grader's accomplishments.  If I answer that I'm a housewife, I think of June Cleaver, mopping floors with her starched apron while a roasted rack of lamb sizzles in the oven for dinner.  Anyone who reads my blog, knows that my cooking and cleaning skills leave a lot to be desired.  A lot.  But I have an amazing husband who takes it all in stride and never complains, never asks for more, never demands.  He just wants my good health and happiness, my smiles.  He just wants a kiss and hug every morning before he goes off for the day.  He wants the same to welcome him home every evening.  I give all of that and more, gratefully.

So do I even need an "identity", one that the public accepts?  Do I care if I don't have one?  Is an identity just a fancy word for a label, a box that society feels the need to put me in?  People never ask, who are you, they always ask what do you do?  Why do I have to "do"- can't I just BE?  Can't I just be me, and have that be enough?  I know I should just be satisfied with the arrangement J and I have between us, of me staying home from now on, and have that be enough and all that matters as long as the two of us are happy with it.  Can my job not be "making a big fresh salad for my husband's dinner instead of forcing him to eat Taco Bell every night?"  I was raised by a career-before-she-had-kids-stay-at-home mom who, even after my sister and I were older, never went back to work. I asked my dad recently about that, he said he never once wanted my mom to go work outside of the house ever again, and he didn't resent her for being at home while he went off to a tough job every day.  J is okay with me being at home, why can't I be okay with it?  Is this just part of my chronic depression, that I never feel like I'm worth a damn, like no matter what I do or don't do it will never be good enough?  And good enough for who- me, J, everyone else?  J loves me the way I am, and there is no "everyone else" as far as I'm concerned.  So it must be ME that I have a problem with.

I am not interested in pleasing anyone else out there.  J and I both recognize that everything is so much better now that I'm at home.  Life is easier for him, he has less worries, less chores, less stressful moments, better meals, a cleaner home.  Life is better for me.  If I could just get rid of the guilt, if I could just give up the idea that I have to be an "equal" partner and on that issue how society really just means one thing- money.  I could never in a million years make the salary J makes, even working those 12 hour days I could only bring home about a third of what he does.  So why do I think of myself as less of a person for it?  He reminds me of how much money we are saving by me staying at home, in hopes of lifting my melancholy, of raising my self-worth.

J tries his darnedest to always boost my spirits.  He heaps praise on me- I know he is being sincere in his own way, but I know the praise is not deserved.  I don't want him to be one of those husbands who feels the burden of always bolstering my moods.  That's not his job, that's not his function in the relationship.  J always seems to put my needs before his own, and I in turn try to put his needs before mine.  It always balances out in some crazy way.  Maybe that's what marriage is all about, maybe that's why it's working for me this time around.  When I was working full time, I spent all my energy on the job, and I had nothing left for home, for J, for our marriage.

If someone asks me, "so what do you do?", why should I be embarrassed at saying I stay at home and make sure my husband has clean clothes to wear, has lunch to take to work every day, has his prescriptions always filled, has a neat and tidy living room to relax in every evening, has clean bed linens to settle into at night.  Where is the shame in that?  And I'm sorry that I couldn't do ALL of that PLUS work 60 hours a week at the office. Maybe that just means I suck at being a woman. Still, isn't it noble, to take care of one's home and hearth and family? Okay, so it really means I spend my mornings scrubbing up cat vomit and clipping coupons and unloading the dishwasher- but aren't those things that must be done anyhow?  J is the only person in the world that matters to me, what he thinks, what he feels, how he's coping with life.  I don't want to seem as though my entire "being" is wrapped up around my husband, but if my identity is wife, lover, partner, friend, soulmate, cook, secretary, homemaker, whatever- then I know I should be happy with that, because he's happy with that.  I guess, screw the rest of the world, I don't have to answer to them.  Well, that's what I want to say anyhow.  But in my head, I can't let go of the thought process that makes me ask- and forces me to answer- who and what the hell am I?  And am I ever going to be good enough?

MISS GEE