Self-preservation.

My entire life I've dealt with varying degrees of depression.


In high school, I survived a suicide attempt. 


After Bugster was born, I dealt with postpartum depression. I began feeling suicidal and started having horrible thoughts about hurting our baby. It scared me to death. I got help and worked through things until I was out of trouble, but it's something of which I've always been acutely aware, because I never, ever want to get to that point again.


A few years ago, I found out that I had a severe Vitamin D deficiency. Since I started supplementing with Vitamin D, I've found I don't go as deeply into the depths as I have in the past, and I'm so very grateful for that. The antidepressant I've been on for several years has helped as well, but the Vitamin D definitely had more of a positive affect on me than it did.


I know that depression will always be a part of who I am, and I know that there are certain situations, and unfortunately, certain people I must avoid to keep my head above water. I struggle with having to limit my friendships with certain people, because I do know that everyone needs a friend, but I also know that I can't always be it. It quite literally is for my own self-preservation.


When I was dealing with the postpartum, I had a friend who lived across the street from us. She and her husband were having marital problems, and she constantly harped about how horrible he was. I don't recall her saying more than a handful of positive things about him or their relationship. Granted, neither my husband nor I had a really high opinion of him, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was that the more I was around her the more I found myself finding things wrong with my own husband. Things that I used to just take for normal quirks and differences soon became arguing point.


I was shocked when I realized how contagious negativity was for me and how I had allowed myself to be drawn in. I slowly started to distance myself from her, because I didn't want our friendship to interfere in my marriage. Thankfully, we moved away less than a year later, but before we had a chance to get out of there, my 'friend'  cheated on her husband and ran off with another guy.


I felt like I had betrayed my husband's trust by talking with her, by venting to her about every little thing about my husband that annoyed me, and it devastated me knowing I played an active part in it. I know the postpartum played a role in all of it, but it was still no excuse. I allowed myself to be drawn into her train wreck, and our marriage could have easily become a casualty. 


Don't get me wrong. I know that not all marriages are good marriages. And sometimes, people need to vent. To confide that things aren't going so well, because they're scared, and they need advice, and they want reassurance. I get that. But there's a huge difference between an occasional venting and someone being negative about their spouse with almost every word they speak. 


I knew then that the only way our marriage would work would be for me to stay away from people who were willing to regularly trash their spouses. It makes my heart heavy, and I want to help, but I can't. My husband and our marriage means the world to me, and I just can't go there. And to be blunt, Hubster is much more important to me than their problems and even than the friendship in which I may have an investment. 


I made that mistake once, and I'm never going to allow it to happen again. My husband and our marriage is always going to come first. Because we really are that good together, and because he means the world to me.


Because we are worth it.


It's all a matter of self-preservation.

Blue Moon

It's been overcast the last several days. Between that and the fact that there is much less sunlight during the day now, I realized it's affecting my mood and is getting worse as time goes on. I've struggled to even blog the last several weeks.

A year ago, when I ended up so sick with the swine flu, I went off some of my medicines to give my liver a break. My liver and spleen were both enlarged from the flu, and I figured they'd get better faster, if I stopped taking some of the medicines I was on. One that I stopped taking was my antidepressant. I went back on it in January, but when I did, I only went back on it at half strength. I'm thinking I may need to go back to my old dose through the winter months. I don't think I can take much more of the lack of motivation and feeling down. I know what I'm like at my best, and this is far from it.

I forced myself to be as productive as possible today. I was able to get the shelf liner in the drawers on the white cupboard I painted earlier. I then sorted through the things I'd taken out of the linen closet and put in the laundry basket several weeks ago. I was able to throw several things, give away others, and put the rest where it was was supposed take up permanent residence. It all fit in one drawer of the cupboard. It's a relief to have it finished.

I also did several loads of laundry today, but I have so many more to do. I'd like to be caught up on it before I go in for surgery, but I'm not going to sweat it, if it doesn't happen. I'm almost caught up on the laundry that we currently use. It's the stuff that's been sitting in the hallway since I took it out of Hopper's room that I haven't gotten around to just yet.

I made a list of things I'd like for us to accomplish this weekend. We'll see how it goes.

I'll count today as a win.

Where to start?

I've always been a big list person. It somehow helps to see what I have to do, so I have more of a chance of getting it done. Sometimes.

Other times, I've either made the list too detailed, and it takes as long to write the list as it does to finish the task, or I find I have problems, if I'm not detailed enough. I think what I may try to do is break it down to rooms, and try to just get one room finished at a time. Granted, there will be lots of lists for each room, but it may not seem quite so intimidating, if I can get one room finished and have a visual reminder of what I've accomplished. Still, it's likely going to take a year or more to get the house where I want it to be.

I know in a general sense what needs to be done. I think I'll be getting back on my antidepressant. I went off it for awhile due to some health issues I was having. The antidepressant wasn't causing the health issues, but going off the meds gave my body a much needed rest. I find I think a little more clearly on it, and I am still battling depression a bit. Plus, I'm fully expecting to have a problem parting with certain things as I get to them, and I don't want it to waylay my progress. I'll be talking with my doctor about it next week when I see her.

My progress probably won't be that great to start with. I have a lot of irons in the fire right now, but I'm going to try to do a little each day. I haven't decided yet, if I'm going to take before and after pictures or not. I probably will, but I don't know yet, if I'll share them. At this point, I think I'm a little too chicken!

My husband and I have talked a bit about what I'm going to need for support. He promised he's not going to threaten to pull a dump truck up to the garage and just start pitching stuff in. It sounds so stupid, but I get very anxious when he's threatened that in the past. I am so afraid I'll lose something important like pictures of the kids when they were little, or our wedding pictures, if he does it. His promise helps. It takes quite a bit of pressure off.

I didn't do a lot today but start the blog, list some things on Craigslist to sell and make a list of things to get done tomorrow. We have some big cabinets downstairs that are super heavy that need to be taken outside. I won't be able to do a lot as far as the lifting, but I will do every thing in my power to make sure they're gone tomorrow. They've been hanging over our heads for awhile now, and I've been going back and forth about whether or not I want to keep them. Indecisiveness is the bane of my existence!

I'm hoping to do more tomorrow. I did make a hard decision today though. Just a little baby step, but it was still a step, and it was still hard. I threw a paper Christmas stocking our youngest made in school. It had beads she'd glued on it, and some little pieces of puff noodles, but it was bent and torn in a couple places. I second guessed myself several times, because I know it would really hurt her feelings to know I'd thrown it out. It really bothered me, but I also know that it will be better for all of us in the long run, if I can get rid of these things that are holding me and my family back from living the life we want to live. Eventually, we can make a new stocking (out of felt, so it doesn't wrinkle or tear!) and make new memories.

I desperately need to make this work.