I Do Not Know How I Feel About This. . .

My family is a bit dysfunctional. I guess in today’s world it is hard to find a family without some dysfunction. Our dysfunction comes in the forms of divorce, codependency, drug abuse, and a myriad of other problems. I am lucky to be, for lack of a better term, “collateral damage”. In other words, I am effected by the dysfunction by merely having familial relationships with the individuals who struggle with their own demons, but I do not struggle with such pervasive demons myself.

Due to the demons that my family members face, I have had quite a bit of extra responsibility this past year. I have been charged with the care of my 3 youngest siblings (with the help of my grandmother). It has been an eye-opening experience. I have learned things that I know will be valuable as I continue in my own path.

The problem comes now as I am preparing to return my siblings to their parents’ care. These sweet kids have become like my own. I wake up and get them breakfast, bring them to school, rejoice in their successes with them, and feel the pain of their failures. I have learned what other parents mean when they say that handing out consequences for their children’s actions is harder on them, as parents, than it is on the children. I love these kids more than I knew I could.

So, as I was packing all of their things and my car, I had to fight back tears. I can’t let them see my cry because I don’t want them to feel bad or like they have anything to do with my despair. I have to be strong for them. It is when I have time alone, away from them that the tears come. It feels like a part of me is being ripped from me.

There is a part of me that is excited at the prospect of living my young adult life without having to worry about finding someone to watch the kids. I will no longer be the chauffeur carting them to their school and extracurricular activities. I can have a social life that involves other young single adults instead of my “mommy friends”.

There is another part of me that will miss the noise that I hear coming from another room and the fear that someone has broken something. I will worry for their wellbeing everyday. I will hope that they know how much I love them, and that I have not given up  on them. I will pray for them daily.

What I am taking from this experience is that I need to be ok knowing that I have done all that I could do. I have given all that I was able. Now, I have to hope that the love and stability that my siblings had while they were in my care was enough to get them through any rough times that are ahead. I have to find comfort in the knowledge that I cannot change the behavior of anyone else. I can only control how I react to others. So, I will be here for my siblings when they need me. I will love them unconditionally, and I will be a safe place for them if they need it.

The Preemptive Bubble Burst

Wow, it has been way too long since I have posted! Sorry about that. I will try to be more frequent with my posts going forward.

Anyway. . .

I posted a while ago about allowing ourselves to be happy and, in another post, about the ebb and flow of life. This is along the same lines with a little bit of a different flavor.

For those who do or have struggled with mental health the possiblitly of resurfacing problems is all too real. If only everyone struggling with their mental health could be assured that, “once you get over this hump, it’s smooth sailing.” Unfortunately for many or most, this is not the case. Getting through one rough time is an accomplishment and should be acknowledged; you should be proud of yourself for working your butt off to get there! But, as has been reinforced in my life, that is just one of the twists in life. There may be some who are able to get through that hump and never look back. I am happy for you, and that does not diminish the work you put in to get where you are. Others, like me, may find themselves in that familiar hole more than once, and that does not mean that the work you put in to get out of the last hole is any better or worse than anyone else. If you’re working to be a better version of yourself, you’re amazing, and I applaud you! Keep going.

Having the rug being pulled out from under me by my emotions (more than once) and my desire to control things in my life present a problem. The first time I came through a period of depression, I felt like I was going to go forth and conquer the world (school). When that bubble burst, I lost a little bit of hope. In my mind, I had gotten through it, and I was going to move on, not looking back. When I fell back into my dark hole, I made myself comfortable there. I did not want to allow myself to feel good again just to have that taken away again. If my happiness was going to be taken, I was going to control when that happened! Somehow, in my head, that equated to “you can’t let yourself feel good because then it can be taken away again.” I made sure to burst my own bubble before anything/anyone else could. So, I would go through my days and work really hard to ignore the good things. I focused my attention on the negative and made sure to ruminate on that. If anyone wants to be miserable, that is a great way to start.

I’ve realized that our live are made of a lot of small moments. Not every moment is going to be great or even good. That doesn’t mean that our lives are bad or we deserve to be perpetually unhappy. I would venture to say that rarely, if ever, will you have a day in which nothing good happens. Now, if my definition of good is some unattainable standard like winning the lottery, then I need to redefine “good”. Sometimes, good is something as simple as finding a low price for gas (which happens all the time right now!) or, on really hard days, good can be as small as having the courage/determination to get out of bed. If I add up all the little “goods” in my day, I can see that it’s not so bad.

So, now that I am focusing on the “goods” in my days, I think I am less likely to burst my own bubble. If I find myself in that familiar hole again, I guess I will just work my butt off to get out and keep moving. I say that like this is easy, but I know it’s much easier said than done. As I teeter on the edge of my hole, I am still scared to let things be “good”, but I know I have to try.