Depression – Page 12 – Just Pondering…

Small Doses

May 25, 2020May 25, 2020ponderingmissylouLeave a comment

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Today, I was expecting nothing but a nice quiet day or at least most of the day in my home. Even though it is Memorial Day, my husband goes to play golf, no family was coming over so just a low-key day. It was short lived, guess it was too hot and understandably so. I tend to get more done when he is out of the house. There is a freedom, not a draining, boring, no laughter kind of day. Sad, isn’t it that I feel that way?

Yesterday, we spent the day in our son’s back yard to cut limbs and clean up so he can enjoy the property of his house rental. I love his back yard and during this pandemic of quarantine, we did not make trips, which is only an hour away. He did a lot on his own, which has been good for him and we just helped push him forward a little faster. It was a good, hot day to do this and it was nice to get away

Many times when we have days like this together, I have to bring things back down to existence between me and him. Existence of just married, basically a business partnership. For the most part, it works, financially, why not.

If I could live with previous years when it was so bad, really bad, I can deal with it now, as I continue to get clarity and get stronger within myself and put boundaries in place. Those days, as in yesterday, being together kinda sorta in a big yard, it seems he thinks we are a happily married couple. He will tell his parents or his chiropractor usually of what we did, putting a spin on what fun ‘we’ had. Over and over again I see this routine. Denial runs in his family so this just ranks right up there.

The next day or week, he will say with such a sweet, soft and sickening voice, which is do you want to do this, want to go here or there, etc. No. No thank you. The same tone when he talked to our dog. This has been learned way to speak in order to relate to others, whether it be others, me or the dog. I feel mean when I say no thank you but, no. I can only handle him in small doses and yesterday that dosage was an overdose, and I must set my boundaries. You do your thing and I will do mine and we are both happy.

Now you are probably thinking, but he asked if you wanted to do this or that and was so nice. I have had that said to me more than once, because they do not understand what I am dealing with or have dealt with. Yes he was nice, and I was nice and said no thank you. To turn him down, you are probably thinking I am just a mean old witch. Have you walked in my shoes? Have you felt emotionally ignored in a marriage? There is more than shopping or hearing his intellectual murmurings of whatever is of interest to him that would make one bang their head on a brick wall. There is no connection, no emotional support, no real marriage. It is just an existence of two people under one roof, thankfully space between us.

If you have read any of my writings, I have mentioned Aspergers. After years and years of not knowing what was wrong, taking it all upon myself that it was me. He is the intelligent one, and he will tell you just that, so it must be me, I’m stupid. He will walk away from an issue that needs both of our attention and I need his input. He hears my tone getting a bit higher because he has ignored previous attempts, so he walks away. So again it’s me, my fault. If I make a wrong decision, it’s my fault, which is too much pressure. To see him look at other women, I am not pretty or sexy enough. To call him out on it and each time deny although I watched this play out a million times, same result. So it must be me, I am seeing things, making it up, feeling like I am crazy. Shall I go on? Too fat, ugly, fat and depressed will add just several more areas dealt with. Years and years of this, it does makes one feel crazy.

Had it not been for my former counselor in 2014 to recognize what I was expressing, I really do not know where I would be today. Twenty-five years of not knowing and feeling the craziness can take a toll on a person’s emotional, physical, mental and spiritual life. You just exist from day to day with no joy.

Sadly, this is very typical in marriages when one has Aspergers and the spouse is a neurotypical. It is a crazy-making life.

So if a friend or family member confides in you, needing to vent and need you to hear them, listen. If any of this sounds familiar, don’t just say it is married life, it will get better, etc. Just maybe, this is Aspergers.

Too much time together, is too much time together.

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Sanded Away

May 9, 2020May 9, 2020ponderingmissylouLeave a comment

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A task I have been wanting to do for years but never enough time or desire to really attempt, I did. With this quarantine, I have had my ups and downs, but I am starting to enjoy being home. Working one day a week is not that bad, but I know once we are back in full swing, I will most likely be working overtime, so for now, I am enjoying my time, completing jobs on my to-do list and let’s not forget about those naps.

So the past two weeks or so, I have taken my solid oak kitchen table top and two oak end tables out to the driveway and garage to sand, in between other projects. I tend to start many projects at a time, so I have a mess in many rooms. I get bored with one, work on another or allow time for paint to dry, etc. Oftentimes wondering if I will get it all back together, but I do. I actually enjoy working with wood, remodeling, decorating, recovering chair cushions and all that HGTV has to offer. Just give me a sledgehammer or a tool, they do not intimidate me.

As I am sanding this much used and abused table, enjoying the breeze as it scoots the dust out away from me, I think of all the memories this old table has held. Thinking back of when we got it and the hutch to match, back in 1991. Where did the time go? My parents bought this for us, as a gift in our first home.

I remember going to the furniture store to pick it out, knowing it would last for a lifetime; and thirty-one years later, it has many more years to go and will after I am dead and gone. I love oak or any solid wood furniture. I know if my son and daughter-in-law get this later on, she will paint it, all of my work covered in a color. The girl loves to paint wood furniture but I guess it won’t matter to me, so paint on!

The dinners, holidays, the birthday parties, games, puzzles, crafts, and if my husband wasn’t caught, he used it as a work bench, which I frowned upon. Seriously? No! I think he is scared of me and if so, my job is complete.

Memories of the past brings a smile, as memories are priceless as I enjoyed the time sanding. One table down and two end tables to go. The end tables were my parent’s tables, which I inherited. I picked them out when we went shopping for furniture many, many years ago so I did good and they have been great tables.

As I sand, take a step back to see if I need to sand more, I think, we all have areas in our lives that need to be sanded to make the rough edges smooth or buff the dull, lifelessness away for something new. Sometimes not a pleasant experience. Or perhaps we know ourselves well enough that we are aware of areas that need attention and to prepare in order to meet goals in life. It’s the end result that matters, of what we make of the rough edges and areas that need attention.

In those times of sanding and buffing, hopefully we learn a lesson of what not to do, usually, or how to make better. If I could redo my life, of course, with what I know now, I definitely would change some things, a lot of things. What I have is today, to make my tomorrows better.

In myself, I started years ago, probably 2008, attempting but knocked down time and time again. In 2010, I made the decision to have weight-loss surgery to help my self-esteem and confidence come alive, which helped but I kept getting snagged in some rough places. Finally, in 2014, enough was enough and the buffing began in my life with counseling. This was not always comfortable but worth the end result of what I can see come about and hope for. I’m getting there!

Why did it take me so long to understand and why I do the things I do, think, feel? Now it is like I don’t have a lot of time left in life to enjoy, as my age increases, but I will to the best of my ability to reach toward the goals and trust the Lord through it all. as I have done. 80F6F564-6467-479B-9638-CDA147FC2414

Had it not been for this period of counseling, I really don’t know where I would be right now, except maybe isolated and severely depressed or perhaps not even here writing this blog. At times I am just in awe of the changes around me and within me and look forward to what is ahead. I have hope where there was none.

Sometimes we have to go through the sanding and the buffing to enjoy the beauty of a finished product. Hopefully saying, it was worth it all.

My finished product:

Hand Me Down

May 7, 2020May 9, 2020ponderingmissylouLeave a comment

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Through the years I have encouraged many to have pictures taken of their hand upon their loved ones hand and even vice versa. It will be a treasure the rest of your life, at the ending of theirs.

While I have encouraged many, I did not do it myself. The cell phones we have today with cameras were not as popular or even available back in 1996, although not for certain, knowing I did not have one.

My hands now are my mother’s hands. I never realized this until my niece grabbed my hands at the dinner table, many years ago and was in awe saying, “You have Grandma’s hands.” I do and even her swollen, aching knuckles she complained about of which I don’t care for, but thankfully just two on each hand and that is enough.

As Mother’s Day approaches this weekend, I tend to get somewhat melancholy. Wondering will my boys remember me, do they think I was a good enough mother, etc. On the other side, being a daughter, I found this date to be awkward.

My mother will always be my mom, of course, but all throughout my childhood to adulthood, we never had the mother-daughter relationship. I found myself yearning for motherly love from other mother figures and felt free to share my thoughts, touch their hand and hug. Never understanding why I felt guarded with my own mother. I know she loved me, I was her daughter. I loved her, she was my mother. It was just the acceptance of love that existed but not freely shown or spoken. What a disappointment in life.

As a family, there were many fun times, mostly with beer, at our house with many around, when I was a child. Later, it became less people in our house, as my siblings moved on with their lives. I was a late baby so I am still home. Due to work of both parents back then, the house was quiet, more seriousness, sometimes verbal bickering and I sensed jealousy, which became the norm. On top of this, I watched my dad drink heavily and then it flipped-flopped, like overnight, and mom took over the role of an alcoholic.

Understanding and realizing what I endured, I am an adult child of alcoholics with childhood emotional neglect. It all makes sense even though, so sad. Reading lately about Complex PTSD (C-PTSD), a book by Pete Walker, that can be thrown in the mix, too. In research, I have found that each of these intertwine. Since 2014, my eyes have been opened to so many things of my past and present, hopefully in recognizing and changing of my future.

My mom passed away in January, 1996. My marriage was unsettled, feeling it was all my fault. I was dealing with our young children, watching other children, tending to my father four times a day with a feeding tube, his house, our house, finances, life insurance with mom, etc., all the way down to taking out the garbage. There was no time to grieve.

It was when I stood in the grocery store, in the aisle with greeting cards and looked at Mother’s Day cards knowing I did not need to get one that year. Through the years, I would read and put back many cards as they read of the closeness and the mushy stuff between a mother and a daughter, which I never had. I just needed one to be straightforward, Happy Mother’s Day, signing my name possibly noted, with love. Standing there looking at the cards, I could not get out of the store quick enough, the grief and sadness of it all took me by surprise that day. Still, each time as I stand in the card aisle looking for just the right card to give to someone, I always remember that moment. Those silly Hallmark cards, they get me all the time. Sometimes thinking that the intercom will come on announcing, cleanup in the card aisle, a lady is crying a river.

The love was present, just knowing, and I was taken care of in the physical sense with clean clothes, nice house, etc. The outside looked fine and I learned early on how to wear and adjust my mask to appear happy, when the inside of me there was always a little girl crying out for love and attention.

While in 2014, walking in the counselor’s office about a different matter, which we discussed and I understood, it was when she said, “Now, let’s deal with you.”

While this was a surprise to me, it was not to the Lord. I have no doubt that He prepared this counselor for this time and place in my life. All through my life, I yearned for motherly hugs, never knowing why and it bothered me. It made me feel like I could not show love or receive love from my own mother (family), always coming up with the ‘what is wrong with me’ mentality. Shame had taken hold of me early on as a child, building year by year, basically stomping me down over and over of the unworthiness and feeling unlovable.

Today, meaning this time in my life, understanding the ramifications of areas mentioned, it helps me to know the whys and not question, to notice the shame as it tries to attach itself to me. I never thought I would ever get over the screams within for the hugs needed, but I have. At times wondering if I had put walls up, so that I would not be hurt again of not needing those motherly hugs, but it was and has been different. Understanding brings healing to the broken places within that the Lord knew I needed mending, and she helped me to find clarity.

Thankfully, the counselor knew me well enough in those four years, that she could probably hear the screams within or see in my eyes, oftentimes me saying in reluctance and embarrassment, Please Hug Me!

I love not having the deep yearning for love and acceptance of others. I can leave one that was or is like a mother figure, or perhaps maybe we do hug, but not feel the deep torment of the love and care needed in the loneliness felt, as I walk away. To accept myself, to care, to love, to know and that I am lovable, there is a freedom and a healing that I have never, ever experienced. 549D22D1-1FC2-4533-9AB0-889B7B9E4E9F

Mother’s Day brings many emotions for my own mom, those fill-in mothers in my life and for myself, as a mom.

Happy mother's day - brush calligraphy greeting. Vector illustration. Happy Mother’s Day to each of you as a mom. If you are a son or a daughter, and your mother is living, you need to contact her. If she has passed, you can still whisper or say, Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Mom’s everywhere need to know they are not forgotten on this day.

This has been an emotional blog for me to write, as I have missed out on so many levels of love. Even though, the tears flow and I stop to mourn the loss between words, there is a joy within, as I am not the same person. As I look at my hands, my mother’s hands, they can hug that little girl within and bring comfort to the lack of love known so well, with the screams silenced, and healing to my mending heart day by day.

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