All over the place

Being au naturale once more is strange.

I mean, of course, that I no longer have prescription pills dissolving into my blood stream and balancing my brain chemicals any longer.

And it is strange.

I say strange because I don't know quite how to feel about it.

My moods certainly aren't stable--as I have a mood disorder--but they are , at least, my moods.  Mine.  Not some manufactured stability, or some chemically enduced high or low.  It is nice to know that the way I'm thinking and reacting and feeling, that its all mine.  I may be fucked up, but at least it is my particular brand of fucked up and not attributable to prozac or abilify or whatever.

Somedays it feels wonderful.  I feel energetic, motivated, organized (well, as organized as this lady can get withour serious intervention), and productive.

Other days, or even hours, I feel easily distracted, frustrated, self-destructive, unhealthy, low-energy, depressed, and all sorts of other negaitive things.

And there's no controlling which way I'll feel.  good things can happen and I still feel blue.  Bad things can happen and not seem to tip the scales if I'm feeling great.  That resiliance is nice, really welcome;  but the unshakable negativity even in the face of acts of kindness, activities I enjoy and the people i love?  Well, that's why I tried pills in the first place, right?

And I miss my therapist.  I don't miss taking time out of a very busy schedule to bitch about my problems to a near stranger (ahem). But I miss her.  She was great.  And inspirational and motivational and kind and understanding.  And sweet.

I'm trying to follow simple, clear, practical advice.

Such as, I'm trying to give myself a break.  She always said that.  I'm, as a rule, incredibly hard on myself.  Punishing, even.  If someone treated any one of my friends the way I treat myself, it would be absolutely unacceptable! i'd be up in arms.  And I wouldn't think of treating anyone the way I treat myeslf.  So I'm trying to have patience, be kind, and understanding.

I'm trying to eat better.  Trying is the operative word.  Trying to eat regulary and relatively healthily.  Trying to give the body what it needs, but aknowledging and understanding when the soul needs to be comforted as well...

I'm playing games and interacting with my husband as much as possible. 

I'm going to sleep early and rising early-- listening to the schedule my body wants to keep.

And I'm making plans for the future--which is perhaps the most significant change.

For the first time in a very long time I am entertaining the notion of having a family.  Of my own.  You know.  Like, a baby.

I know, I know, I know.  I'm an unstable mess.  I'll be the first to say it.

But for the first time in so, so, long, the idea of having children isn't repulsing me.  Isn't so terrible.

Obviously I'm not ready to get knocked up tonight with these luke-warm revelations, but I'm taking the padlock off that particular door.  Maybe we'll open it afterall.  Someday down the road.  When I know more.  When life is a bit more stable.

But if you know me and my journey, hearing that I'm starting to warm up to the idea of a family again is quite something.  Entertaining the notion that I might not be the world's worst mother--why that's downright miraculous.

I might be ok, and that's intriguing.

This is in large part thanks to my incrediblpe partner, who helps me view the world through a lens of possibility.  With him as my partner, sure I can parent.  With him as my helpmate, absolutely I can get through this life.

Of course I'll only truly be ready to be a parent if I can honestly say that if he disappeared tomorrow, could I still do it?

When I can answer yes to that, then I'll be ok.

I think I've got a long way to go on that--I'm pretty fucking co-dependent.  We're like trees whose roots have grown together and whose branches have fused in places.  We've been together through all of our formative years--we've become adults as a couple.  To imagine doing anything without his support is somewhat like trying to imagine a new color; they say it isn't possible.

But life happens all the time, and if I'm not able to say (and believe, and know in my heart of hearts) that should anything happen to my partner that took him out of the parenting equation that I'd be able to rais our child well on my own-- then I'm not fit to be a parent.

Besides the not having a secure career, an income above the poverty line, or a place to live...

So, like I said.  Padlock off, but not opening the door yet.

Just.

Just not detesting, abhoring, and shunning the notion.

And that's progress.