2009- Man, am I glad it's over

I gotta tell ya, I don't feel like writing right now. (Gee! Thanks, Robin! I'm sure this will be GREAT!)  I know that I should write, though.  I can't believe I've only written once this month, when I know I have thoughts rolling around in my head.

Nutshell? I'm pretty depressed.  It's not like I'm crying and in the depths of despair, but more a conclusion I've come to or something I finally saw.  I have zero motivation to do anything other than play Bubble Town or be on FB & Twitter all day.  And I'm tired of it.

I don't like the way I live my life.  God & my husband don't allow me to not work so that I can get fatter and fatter and also get carpal tunnel.  I'm supposed to be doing things.  I'm supposed to take better care of my husband and house, I'm supposed to be volunteering more, I'm supposed to be reading and studying and hanging out with people I care about and exercising and playing real instruments, not just plastic ones.

Usually I'm not a big fan of shoulding on myself, but this is more than a guilt trip: it's a not quite rock bottom that I would like to be a turning point.  I'm clear about these things.

The year started oddly: my sister, who I probably love more than anyone in the world besides Seth, was in the hospital.  After about a month, I just couldn't stand it anymore and, after dropping my classes, went to Michigan to be with her.  I woke up one night just crying and freaking out because I couldn't stand the thought of her being alone in the hospital when my mom couldn't be there (and her husband was deployed).

The doctors were really being pessimistic and all but assuring her that her daughter would die, but we didn't believe them.  There are plenty of stories online about women in similar situations whose babies lived.  I, for one, expected Adi to be born premature and puny, but that she'd live.  Sure, complications were to be expected, but they'd be gotten past.  But she did die.

My sister had a horrible, terrifying c-section while my brother-in-law watched their daughter get yanked out of her, and then he watched her die after an hour.  My sister never saw her or held her alive.

The same day that my niece died, my friend's brother was accidentally shot and killed.  Let's cancel January 23rd from now on, okay?

I was in MI for a month, mourning and comforting as best I could, but I also had a good time with my friends and family.  A few days after my sister got out of the hospital, we went to Costco and my brother-in-law and I cracked up watching her try to run people down in the scooter/cart.  I got to see lots of my friends multiple times, I got drunker than ever before with one of my best friends and some guys from high school, I got together with some online friends, saw a Red Wings game, and got sick of winter.

After I was home for a few weeks, I went to stay with my sister for 2 weeks in North Carolina.  We had a great time, and we also got to visit our cousin and her family in Richmond, which was fabulous.

A lot of the year was good: I went to CHIC with the youth group, Seth and I had a great 10th anniversary vacation in the NW, and I had a fabulous class this fall.

This was also an expensive year, and my car currently sits dead in the driveway.  All told, I was out of my bed & away from home for almost 4 months this year.

I've been worried a lot this year.  About my sister, brother-in-law, parents, another sister who has been depressed and confused, the messed-up sister who lost both her kids but is pregnant with a third, about everything that could be worried about for my husband, about money, the marriages of multiple friends-- you name it.  I know I don't need to worry, and I sometimes do a good job of casting stuff on God.  But not enough, apparently. 

I stopped working with two ministries and added another one, which is still finding its rhythm.

I didn't really like our Christmas.

I want a house.

I want a best friend in California.

I've stayed on medicine, which I want to double, but I don't want to do that arbitrarily.  I can't ask my doctor do up my prescription, because I still haven't seen anyone about my depression.  I didn't think I needed to before, but maybe I do.  Maybe if I talked to someone about my stupid lack of motivation and what appears to be self-sabotage, I'd get somewhere.  I know that Jesus is helping me and I don't have to do all this on my own.

I'm just tired.  And I'm excited about this year being over.  I know it has been weird, and I want it to go.  I want to start over- start fresh.  Though some may call that naïve, I know that I can start fresh. I can start over right now, if I wanted to.  I've been trying for about 2 weeks now to change; to think in a new way.

I just keep sitting back down.