Sometimes....

Sometimes it's just too much. I go to sleep instead of working. I watch TV on Hulu because I can't deal with the stress. I'm underestimating my abilities yet I don't know how to change. I've tried lists, prioritizing, library time, etc. Work study has offered me the chance to do homework in a quiet environment which has actually helped a lot. Then there's the 3yo who refuses to use the toilet even though he's capable and more than ready. The dog, the fish (which I hate, sorry), the house, the car, the bills... I'm so thankful that I'm not alone because otherwise I really would have lost it by now. Even the things that aren't my responsibility add to my level of stress. But sometimes...

Sometimes it's all still too much and I sleep instead of dealing. I read instead of coping. I escape instead of facing my stress and working to alleviate it. I know all it takes is a little organization and work to get on the right track and minimal work to stay on that track. But sometimes...

Sometimes I just don't want to wash my dishes and I don't want to pick up the mess my kid made and I don't want to write that math journal entry. And that's where it all goes wrong. The dishes pile up, the messes pile up, the homework piles up. Then the late nights start when I'm up until 3am or sleeping from 9pm to 2am then getting up to catch up on school stuff. But the sink starts to smell and the kid avoids the living room because it's such a mess he can't even play. Sometimes...

Sometimes I'm still that immature teenager who moved out at the age of 17 because I couldn't stand my dad and step-mom. I'm still spending money the second it comes in and not doing my chores. And sometimes...

Sometimes I worry what I'm teaching my kid when I make him clean up his little messes and I don't clean up my own. What am I teaching him when I let his room stay a mess but still scold him when it's messy? I wonder how long I have to change my messy, stressful, procrastinating ways before he catches on and learns the same bad habits. Yet nothing changes and the cycle continues. I make plans to clean house from top to bottom but when the day comes I'm suddenly busy with put-off school work or I've decided it's too much and I don't even try.

Sometimes I hate myself for it and sometimes I just laugh and think, "I'll get better."

Sometimes I don't even think about it. Nothing can excuse the mess that I let accumulate. But sometimes....

Sometimes it really doesn't matter.

The Meaning of Life

     The last year and half of high school, I didn’t live with my dad and step-mom, I’d moved out. I lived in an apartment paid for by my best friend Linda’s mother. It was her 17^th birthday present and just my luck, her mom needed help paying the rent on it. Using money from my retail job, I got to live cheaply in a nice place that was not ruled by parents. Linda and I were inseparable. We played soccer together on the junior varsity team, our friends were friends and she had a car. We spent many nights in that apartment doing what teenage girls do: baring our souls and hearts with the utmost trust in each other.

     This night began like so many others. We played Mario Kart on her Nintendo 64, listened to the same sad Matthew Good Band song on the radio, ate Ramen and talked boys. Suddenly, however, things turned scary fast. Linda was upset about her current interest, I knew that, but we’d discussed his worthlessness so many times that I couldn’t believe just how upset she still was. Linda brought me a pillow she’d been hiding from me. It was covered in words and pictures drawn in Sharpie. She was and is a talented artist but her choice of expression was so bizarre to me in that moment. She told me about each word, line, quote and image. I started to realize how deep her emotions ran and how much she needed me.

     As I began to use the same words I’d used before, she got angry. Linda was afraid of being alone; afraid of being unloved and afraid people would find out just how much she didn’t love herself. Everything happened so suddenly, I don’t remember how she managed to get the large kitchen knife in her hand. One minute we’re standing in the living room fighting and the next minute she’s backed up against the wall in the kitchen brandishing a huge knife in my face. I distinctly remember thinking, “Don’t be afraid. It’s not you she wants to hurt. Don’t be afraid. Don’t let her turn that around on herself. Don’t be afraid.” In that vein, I started yelling at her.

     “Go ahead! You’re really that mad? You really want to use that thing? Well do it, then! I’m standing right here and I’m not stopping you. Cut me if you want, but who else will bother to tell you the truth when you need it and lie to you when you don’t?” She really started to cry then, let me take the knife and balled up on the floor, defeated and defended at the same time.

     After my mother’s death when I was 8, I’ve done all I can for those around me who try to choose death over life. I know what it’s like to be the one left behind and I refuse to be that again when there’s something to be done about it. Linda is now in a loving, happy and committed relationship and following her own dreams of art. I’ve taken my friend Lynn, 30, with Type 1 diabetes to the hospital many times when she’s let her blood sugar get so out of control her doctor said she would have died if I hadn’t brought her. She used to get that way after thinking about her unfair life of pills and shots since she was seven, her inability to get pregnant and give birth and wondering if she’ll find someone who doesn’t care about all that. She’s now taking good care of herself and living her life happily. I’ve prevented another suicide in the form of an ex-boyfriend Alex, 38, who is currently a father-to-be again after 20 years, a grandpa-to-be and an uncle-to-be, all within the next three months. He is also pursuing a degree in nursing to be able to better provide for his new daughter the way he couldn’t provide for his first two children.

     Regardless of my seeming optimism, I’ve never been one to say that life isn’t hard. My own experiences aren’t rare but they have shown me how easy it really is to decide to take your own life. Barely hanging on at the end of your rope with no one to turn to and nowhere to go is a scary place. Even if you only feel like that’s where you are. Suicidal thoughts and tendencies don’t only affect hormonal teenagers like my first experience. They claw their way into the brains and hearts of educated adults with loving families like Lynn. They creep in and settle into the hearts and minds of fathers who feel like they’re not good enough for their kids and don’t know how to change themselves for the better like Alex.

     I’ve learned how to deal with these situations through trial but thankfully without error. I know that I was given those chances with those people for a reason and not just to be there for them. I’ve also been the one contemplating fatal actions. However, these experiences have taught me that no matter how futile we think our lives are, or unloved we think we may be, someone does care and our lives do have meaning. I’ve managed to find my meaning in pursuing a degree to be a teacher. I want to change the lives of children. I want to be the teacher they remember years later as their own kids start school. I want to be the voice in their heads that prevents them from becoming the ignorant youth I see myself surrounded by today. I’ve also found meaning in the eyes of my toddler son. Everything I do, I do for him. No matter how difficult my life gets, I know that when he grins at me and calls me “Mama” I am the entire world even for one small person. Each life has its own personal meaning and only by living will we find it.

Final note: If you find yourself thinking suicidal thoughts or feeling totally alone, please call 1-800-273-8255 to talk to a volunteer who chooses to be there for you. PostSecret is also a wonderful resource for hope and finding others who feel the way you do. Or you can talk to me. I’m always willing give advice or just lend an ear. You can find me at mamapoodle09@gmail.com and @MamaPoodle on Twitter.

Single and Hating It

These last 9 months since my son was born have been so busy and have gone so by so fast that I didn't really have time to think about the fact that I'm not dating anyone. It hasn't even bothered me because I've been so busy with Ick and moving and getting a job... Now that things have settled down a little bit, it's hitting me every time I turn around. TV shows, movies, the people around me. Wherever I go I see couples and families... It's getting harder to deal with it. I'm so lonely and I just want someone to be there for me and to be close with. Some kind of companion would be perfect. I'd love someone to come over for dinner, to go out to the park with Ick and me... Someone to cook for, someone to cook for me, ha ha ha... I know it seems that my son would be reason enough to have motivation. But it's not. He doesn't notice when things are clean or not. It sounds weird but I want someone to impress... A reason to look nice. It's very sad and depressing and it's getting old already. I wish I could meet someone. It'd be nice for someone to compliment me and make me feel the way I want to feel. Instead of this blah that keeps overwhelming me.

Music and Depression

Usually when I'm depressed (or just sad) I like to listen to sad music. Oddly enough, it makes me feel better.

These last few days I've felt myself slipping into a depression. It's a slightly scary feeling especially when you have a happy-go-lucky 7 month old wanting your attention when all you want to do is lay in bed. I fake happiness because babies can pick up on your emotions easily and the last thing Ick deserves is unwarranted sadness. Well, today begins the weekend Ick's dad has him from Wednesday to Sunday.

After dropping Ick off at his dad's parents' house I decided to go drive around and listen to the "Sad" cd I made the other day. The first song on the cd is my newest musical obsession: "Ain't No Reason" by Brett Dennen. (Check out the video on YouTube.) The lyrics that get me the most are: "There ain't no reason things are this way / That's how they always been and they intend to stay. / I can't explain why we live this way / We do it everyday."

The song is about our world and our lives. The seeming randomness of bad things happening, hungry children in other countries, broken soldiers who fight for our freedom, people making 5 cents a day to make clothes (I picked that amount out of thin air, by the way), working your whole life for nothing with nothing at the end but death, slimy politicians, prisons full to the brim, our pride in money and the things it buys, our eagerness for war, the hatefulness people harbor for each other, and the pain we harbor within ourselves.

I know it seems like a lot to cover in one song under 4 minutes long, but he does it. And every time I watch the video I cry. It's deep and touching... And doesn't change my life one bit.

Which, ironically, is kinda the point of the song.

I've listened to this song about 25 times in the last two days and after about the 3rd time in a row, I feel a little better. I can't explain the healing effect sad songs have on me, I just feel it.

The sad songs on my "Sad" cd vary quite a bit. This is a social awareness song. Others are love songs, cheatin' songs, death by whiskey songs, suicide songs, and just some slow, seemingly sad songs that only make sense when you're deep down in that depression. The artists include: Wallflowers, Keith Urban, Sister Hazel, Brett Dennen (duh), The Fray, Counting Crows and more.

If you'd like the full playlist, send me an email, I'd be happy to send the list. :o) Well, and sad that you want my "Sad" list, but I can't help but understand.

But, like the sunrise following the darkest night, I'm soon craving "Mandolin Moon" by Sister Hazel or "Hillbilly Bone" by Blake Shelton and Trace Adkins.

It's nice to know, though, that when I start to feel blue, I have a carefully picked playlist to help pick me up.