Believe in the Flowers.

Carol of the Zombie Jesus!

As time passes, I'm finding that these ups and downs are a bit much for me. They're difficult to handle and deal with, and I think that the worst part is (easily) that there are far more downs than ups anymore. I have always been familiar with the concept of depression and how very powerful it can be, but right now it has surpassed the point of "tolerable" and has gone into the realm of "insane." I've dealt with this before in a similar situation, so I understand what's going on with me - as much as I possibly can, at least - but it seems like this is a spur-of-the-moment insanity that has grabbed me and thrown me around in circles until I'm too dizzy to function. Never mind that thanks to a dysfunctional air mattress, NONE of us are sleeping well, and I'm sure you can see that life in this apartment has, as of late, not been that much fun. Typically, cleaning up the house means both of us looking at each other, sighing, and jabbing one another through a cleanup routine that leaves us with a nicer house but feeling just as depressed as we began.

Meanwhile, I've been doing some soul searching in hopes of finding out what I intend to spend the rest of my life doing. My original intention was to become a choir director, but my experiences in the last couple of years have been less than positive, and while at J-Dub I changed my mind. After the kid was born, I thought I would perhaps move to an associate of science and go into psychology; problem with that being that I would have to spend far too many years in school and it would require more financing than we could manage, either now or in ten years. And I'm not really sure I could handle knowing exactly what is psychologically wrong with myself and the rest of my family. I can easily imagine the kind of hell that would result in, and while I am all for torturing loved ones to the best of your ability, I don't think I'm okay with something that may result in death - either me killing them, or them dispatching of my irritating, psychoanalyzing self.

So I've turned my head toward the only other thing that has thus far appealed to me: midwifery (wivery?). I've done some research into this; the downside would be that the nearest school in Illinois that would offer such courses is in Chicago. There's no way we'll be able to move to Chicago anytime soon, and a ten hour total commute every day is even more impossible, so for now this is something that I'm hopeful I can pull off, but I have no real expectations. I'd rather take it one day at a time, finding out information and doing what little I can to get myself to that point. Still, it feels good to know what I want to do with my life, and better to know that I've finally found something that seems to suit me. I already have a strong grasp on a lot of medical concepts and my prior knowlege of psychology should prove at least somewhat useful in learning what I need to; that way, not everything will be new information and most of it would hopefully be a refresher. Anyone who has any sort of experience with this sort of thing or who has useful advice is more than welcomed to comment.

I suppose, now, that I ought to get going. I have an hour and a half before the hubby is off work, and I had cleaning that I intended to do before then. I'm thinking I may turn DDR back on so that the kid will have something to distract him while I put away clothes and generally pick up this mess that has recently been our home. Wish me luck.

Things around here lately have been .. Interesting.

As most of you are aware, we ended up losing our car around the end of October. The 23rd, actually, I think - it ended up being towed to Lee's Summit, Missouri, which is just outside of Kansas City. Thanks to a lot of help from my mom (mostly financial) and a lot of waiting and playing phone tag, we finally got the car back. Somewhere in there, we also ended up having the power shut off for two days or so, thanks to a gross misunderstanding on the behalf of the woman I had spoken to when we switched the power over to our new apartment from the old one. That in and of itself is a long story that may be shared later, but at this point I can't bring myself to care enough about either thing to ramble off stories and recollections and reasons; all that matters is that it's done and everything is taken care of and fixed. We have power and we have the car.

The emotional turmoil that I'm experiencing right now is inasne. I won't go into the reasons behind what I feel and think, but this is a rough patch for us. Moreso, in an odd way, for me than for "us." The one thing I miss the most is having a social life, though at this point the semblance of one that I once had has dissolved into something I joke bitterly about to myself. The only connection I really have to any of my former friends is through Facebook; an unreliable, at best, vantage from which to watch the life I wish I could have lived continue without skipping a beat. There are times I've imagined to myself what life would be like if I had won $10 million, or if I had finished college, or if our son hadn't been born; cruel as that seems to some, it's something I believe all parents are welcome and entitled to think about, especially when the parents in question are young and haven't lived the same life as their peers. Not to insinuate that I'm a party girl or that I would spend every night out at bars - I've never had much of an interest in drinking or sitting in bars with a bunch of strangers - but there are certain aspects that I know would be very different if I wasn't a mother. I would like to think I wouldn't have lost touch with so much of my past life, that so many of my friends wouldn't have felt compelled to drift away. On one hand, I hardly blame them - a woman with a child tying her to the house who can't always find reliable childcare isn't really worth inviting when "going out" doesn't necessarily mean that a nearly-two-year-old is invited - but at the same time I still wish that there was a certain consideration given that was at least attempted just after he was born. A message or wall post on Facebook is at best impersonal, while I've found that one of my friends I have no number for - and for some reason I've had a lot of resistance in getting it - and the other is constantly busy. 

Which is good, in a way. It's nice to see the people I care about continue with their lives despite the hills and bumps; 80% of the time I'm kept in the know about their accomplishments, although their rough times are dealt with by other, likely more capable, closer friends. It's good to see that they're pushing for their dreams still, ensuring they accomplish the things that they have always said were important to them. Here and there I'm given an invitation to an event I likely can't attend, although most of the time I find my name included in the list of mass invites, the people who likely know the invitee or the person the party is being held for, to a degree - though few seem to be actual close friends.

It's nice to know that my old friends are continuing their lives, but there are some things that still make me sick to my stomach.

The only plus side I've had thus far is that one of my favorite blog authors, Heather Armstrong of Dooce fame, is expecting her second child in June of 2009. It was announced today at and I could not be happier for her, knowing that she had already suffered one miscarriage and knowing too that she and her husband Jon have been going through a lot. I know Leta will make a great big sister.