So, Monday I was sitting in my doctor's office trying to explain how I'm feeling.
Everything is ok. (Except I'm scared to death that it's not.) Life is peaceful. (And it's freaking me out.)
We are recovering from the last few years. (And will be in debt for the rest of our lives.) Ian seems to be doing well. (But what do I know when I only hear from him once every four weeks or so.) I don't hear from him much. (I dread the beginning of each month as I know he will probably be calling to ask for money soon.) The other kids are doing well. (But I know how many ways I've screwed up as a parent and I'm afraid that eventually they are going to hate me.) I hate taking antidepressants. (I had panic attacks when my prescription insurance denied my last prescription.) But I know I still need to. (Because I stopped taking them when the insurance was denied and promptly descended into a pit of darkness) I've been really busy... (this is a complete lie. I have been hiding in my house eating ice cream and reading children's books) it took some time to figure out our new insurance.. (because they made me feel like a drug dependant freak when I tried to talk to them) but if you fax the prescription directly to them they will fill it (and if they have questions they will contact you directly rather than denying the claim) and mail it directly to me (thereby taking the responsibility for communication away from me and greatly improving the chance that I will finally get the medication). I am rather anxious but I think it's just because I don't deal well with change. Even good things like Bob taking a new job and me not working anymore. It takes me a while to feel like everything is stable. (maybe by 2020 I'll start to feel better). I know that compared to what others are going through I have very little to complain about. I'm not going to sit here and cry "poor me". It's disingenuous and self-absorbed. (that's what my blog is for) But I do have to figure out a better way to deal with stress.
She suggested exercise and laughingly said that maybe I just need to buy a carton of eggs and go throw them at a fence. She really doesn't know me at all... and that is completely my fault. The truth is I will never feel comfortable talking about what is really going on in my head. I just can't do it. I smile and laugh and make light of it all because that's what I have always done. Sometimes I will write about it but that's rare too. Mostly, in real life and writing, I blow off steam with a little ranting about inconsequential things and then move on. I'm a mess but I try keep that mess contained and private.
Lately I've been thinking a lot about blogging. I truly admire people who are open, who do more than just illuminate their day to day living but shine a searchlight into the depths of their lives. Some of the best bloggers are those who are able to open the doors and show the world their messes. I wanted to write that kind of blog but I'm beginning to think I lack the guts or the depth.
However, I have noticed a disturbing trend while ruminating about this. Some of my favorite bloggers, the brave ones and the vulnerable ones, only last for so long. Eventually they succumb to the pressures involved with being so open and they fold. Sometimes without any warning. No explanation. No goodbyes. No closure. One day they are there and the next "Poof". Gone.
Perhaps someone told them to go buy a carton of eggs.