Monthly Archives: August 2012

I Cried…

I haven’t posted in a while. Mostly because I feel like I have nothing to say. And yet, here I am. A lot has happened since I last posted, but honestly… It takes too much effort to write about what all has happened. So here’s the Reader’s Digest version: Mom, Dad, and “Em” came to visit for a week. Great visit. Been working a lot lately, working not enough overtime and too much overtime at the same time… If that makes sense. Depression has been worse lately, but not much I can do about that. Other than that, nothing has changed.

Today at work, I was overcome by my emotions. Hearing about my best friend “Amber’s” family drama upset me enough that it put me over the edge. No, Amber, this was NOT your fault, and yes, PLEASE continue to keep me informed of what’s going on. Today was a crazy fluke, I promise! I was feeling guilty for thinking my own family problems were bad, anger that someone could treat Amber and her family so rudely, and stresssing about a million different things. While sitting at my desk, alone in my little cubicle, I broke down and I cried. I texted my sister to tell her that I finally cried in my cubicle (she’s had more crazy hormones than I have), and we talked for a while. After about 40 minutes of crying (and not working, since I couldn’t see my computer screen through my tears, let alone didn’t care about work since it was one of the reasons I was crying), I ran out of tears (but not snot – funny how that works…).

I cried in outrage. I cried in anger. I cried in fear. I cried because I feel empty inside. I don’t feel like myself anymore. For 15 1/2 weeks I have been off my depression medication, and for once I can see myself as who I am without them. I don’t like to think of them as a crutch, but I’ve seen people in my own life who have said to themselves “Wow, the drugs cured me, I’m all better” and stop taking them – and then all Hell breaks loose. But for me, I know that they aren’t a cure for the chemical imbalance that I deal with everyday. There isn’t a cure for it. I like who I am on the medication because it makes me happy and healthy. I’m not suicidal when I’m off my meds, though some people can be. I am a “worst day ever-everyday” person when I’m off my meds. There’s this constant-rain-cloud-following-me feeling; this got-dressed-in-the-dark-so-the-brown-pants-I-think-I-put-on-are-actually-black-and-I-clash-and-don’t-notice-until-I-get-to-the-office feeling; this can’t-do-anything-right feeling. The world isn’t out to get me (although, I maintain that my cats are), but I just don’t want to get out of bed, and when I do, I regret it. I. Deal. With. This. Every. Day. For four months. And I have five more to go, plus possibly more with nursing.

I half-wondered if this guy “Kevin” who sits next to me would come over and check on me because I was sniffling and breathing heavy (hard to breathe when you’re nose is stuffed from crying). But he didn’t. I also half-expected the manager who sits next to me, “Michelle”, to check up on me because I one point I accidentally let out one of those half-hiccup-half-sobs. But she didn’t. I’m glad they didn’t. Because when people see me cry, I cry harder. And how do you explain to a manager that one of the reasons you’re crying is because I’m ready to be a housewife again? That would be me talking bad about my job, although in a roundabout way. I like my job, though it is extremely repetitive, and a monkey could do it. But I miss being home. I miss seeing my husband. I come home at 8:30, and we see each other for about two hours before we go to bed. Two hours a night isn’t enough when I’m used to five or six.

Normally, when I’m done crying, I feel so much better. But then again, that’s usually because my husband is there to give me a hug. Note added after the fact: I made this sound like my husband is the reason I’m crying, and he’s not! He just happens to help me STOP crying. :) Today, I just felt like I wanted to keep crying. Twice more I’ve had to wipe tears out of my eyes and tell myself to knock it off. Two hours after I had this “melt-down” I had a team meeting. I felt like eyes were still puffy and my nose was red. Nobody said anything or looked at me weird, so it’s probably just me. But I felt so disconnected in the meeting.

That’s one of the things I told “Amber” when I was talking to her. I feel so disconnected. Not so much from the world, just in general. Sure, there’s Facebook to keep up with my family. No problem keeping up with my sister – she posts about 15 status updates a day! ;P Love ya Sister! But I’m just not interested in doing anything. Ever. All my passion is gone. I don’t want to cook, I don’t want to clean (well, I never want to clean), I don’t want to crochet, I don’t want to play video games, I don’t want to watch TV. I just want to sleep.

I’m just so tired of feeling like this.

And that’s just one of the reasons why, today, I cried…


Yesterday’s sermon was a rerun. A “viewer’s choice” rerun. A most welcome rerun that had me crying in my pew.

The sermon was about Grace. Not about a person named Grace, but about being a person seeking and giving Grace. About knowing what is required to receive Grace. About making sure you have someone in your life who gives you Grace when you need it and you don’t think you deserve it.


Grace is not always eloquent like the father’s speech when the prodigal son returned home and begged for forgiveness for his mistakes and sins.

Sometimes grace is a short sentence, whispered repeatedly in your ear so you are sure to hear it between sobs.

“It’s okay.”

Grace is full of love – of acceptance –  and it doesn’t take big words or phrases to make sure Grace is understood. The right tone and consistency can make the smallest words sound like a big, omniscient announcement.


My Grace yesterday came in the form of a patient, loving, soft, warm, 6’7″ hug.

From Ducks to Ducking

I originally was going to write this post about the butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies I thought were just intermittent morning sickness. Upset stomach that sent me running for the bathroom in the mornings. Once I “took care of business” my stomach was fine. It only happened about 5 times so far, so I thought I was just lucky this time around with the morning sickness. But then I remembered the upset stomach I’d get as a kid when I was nervous or something was stressing me out. I chalked this sporadic vomiting to work stress. But just because I was getting sick when I arrived at the office didn’t necessarily mean it was work stressing me out. This time, walking like a duck and talking like a duck did not mean it was a duck.

Turns out my nervousness was coming from upcoming events with “Brad.” Yup, the guy is giving me butterflies and my “delicate condition” is magnifying them into butterflies from hell.


I had this gigantic post brewing in my head that was going to be sappy and so sticky sweet that even I couldn’t finish reading it without gagging at the cuteness.


But my hormones seem to be getting the best of me today. All of sudden I’m questioning every aspect of our relationship, from how and how often we communicate to how and where we spend our time together. Conversations lull sooner than before, if they happen at all; silence is the new normal. I’m doubting his sincerity and interest. I’m angry at myself for doubting him, for feeling selfish and entitled.

It’s been two freaking months.

Why am I feeling like I should be the first thing he thinks of in the morning and the last thing he thinks of at night? Why do I become upset at stupid little things that get in the way of seeing each other, things that neither of us have control of? Why am I allowing this relationship to be in the forefront of my life? Why do I feel like I’m trying too hard, rushing things? Why am I insecure and afraid that he’s not as into me as I am into him? Why do I still feel like he’s better than me, that he deserves more than I can offer, that he’s slowly realizing that and is trying to figure a way out?

I don’t fit into his world and mine is so different from anything he’s experienced as an adult; what were we thinking, starting a relationship? We’re having to plan our time together months in advance. Things we want to do with each other conflict with work, business travel, travel to see family and friends, church, friends we don’t have in common, pregnancy restrictions… Add to that the 70 miles between us and it seems we just can’t see each other.

Despite the hopelessness I’m feeling of all this, I’m not giving up. Not that I have any valid reason to give up, it’s all emotions. But it seems impossible to really progress in this.

I’m sure in a few hours I’ll be fine, hunky-dory and will feel even more stupid for feeling this way, let alone writing about it. But it’s there, that feeling of “Why bother? This won’t work and it’s only hurting both of us to ignore it. He deserves a girlfriend he can actually see and touch, someone who doesn’t give him blank stares when he talks tech, someone who doesn’t get upset at the most stupid things, someone who isn’t a raging hormone fireball, someone who doesn’t have so many other commitments that get in the way, someone who won’t push him to keep up with her pace.” Right now it seems silly and futile to think I could ever make any relationship work, let alone the one I’m in with the best person I can imagine seeing myself with. I love this man and it breaks my heart to think that life is getting in the way of that.