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Well, I had planned on going to sleep early tonight, but alas… here I am making stuff with my laser. It’s been keeping me sane the last few months, for the most part anyway.
What I’ve been wanting to write about lately, but haven’t been motivated enough to, was finding motivation. We’re stuck right now. We’re indoors, with the same people, every. Single. Moment. Of. Every. Single. Day.
I love my people. They’re great. They’re wonderful, full of love and joy. I’m a Debbie downer, sorry to all the Debbie’s out there, but hey at least you’re not Karen levels. (Ah, yeah, I just went there).
I hit the corona-depression pretty hard and pretty fast waaaayyy early on. I was also having issues with meds and kids were out of school, both kids had surgeries last month, and ya know the global pandemic happening, racial tensions at all time highs, and what the AF is happening in politics?!? Don’t worry, we’re not touching that subject.
It was HARD. Like sleeping all day because you don’t want to face the world hard. Was it really hard? Probably not, but that’s the weird thing about mental illness, it completely distorts you perception of reality, and that doesn’t make things easier.
On top of that, you probably know that you don’t have things bad, but your brain is telling you the complete opposite. Life really isn’t that bad, but my brain was telling me some really dark $hi!t that sitting here in front of this screen, I look back at, and just wonder how I got there. How am I even still here today? I still don’t understand that.
Then something started to happen. The clouds are still there, but that bright ball of sunshine started to peak through. I could hear music again. I started singing along. I. Started. Dancing!
Boy does that dancing part hurt, though, but man I’m digging moving around again. This is metaphorical, people. I got some wireless ear buds, and I jam out to music and try to keep moving as much as I can.
My son, AJ, sings, all. day. long. Every single day. When he had his tonsils/adenoids out in June, the music just died in our house. He stopped singing and talking. Being a typical mom, at first, I was like, “dude, this is totally awesome! I can have a conversation without being interrupted.”
Yeah, no. I missed it. I missed it something fierce.
Then we had to take Ri down to get her g-tube surgery and we were in a hospital room for 5 days. Couldn’t leave, or risk the potential exposure for Covid-19. We couldn’t even take her out for a stroll down the hallway.
No music. My soundtrack stopped playing entirely. My mental playlist was erased. No backups stored anywhere to be found.
I cried a lot. In private. I’m pretty sure that even my husband didn’t know I was hiding to let the tears out. So much doubt, and so quiet.
The only thing I could hear was the darkness. It was so loud. “You aren’t enough. They don’t need you. No one needs you. And just in case you didn’t know, no one cares about you either.”
I knew this would be hard to write, but I’m still not ok, I’m well aware. But I’m better. And then I’m not. And then I am again. Ya know what, though? I’m better more than I’m not, but it also doesn’t take much to knock me down.
A couple weeks ago, I started to force myself to do things again, even though it was probably the last thing I wanted to do. I’m trying to compliment someone everyday. I’m starting to take my puppy for long walks, because I got the quarantine-bod going on. I’m creating things again.
I’m singing to a playlist, I think it may be mine, or maybe it’s just a new one I’m developing. On really good days, I’m also swaying these big old hips. They do need a little grease though, they’re a tad bit squeaky and get stuck from time to time.
I think some of this has to do with weaning off the meds. That was one of the hardest things I had ever done, believe that or not, based on what I’ve been through with my history.
I could go off on a huge long tangent about how medications can do more harm than help, and these are things doctor’s are prescribing, but I’ll save you that conversation.
I’ll leave you with this. Find your playlist. Dust that SOB off, and shake that booty God gave you. Sing with kids, dance like no ones looking, and what what makes the sunshine in your life. You have that control, take it back.
Take care, my friends. You’re never alone. You are good enough, truth be told, you’re better than you’ll ever realize.

OH Sara! I am so glad I bumped into you! I searched for blogs of special needs parents and found a list of course, as I find with everything I decide I want to search out. Doesn’t matter if it is for a twin size girls quilt or ABA therapists. I scanned through the many and found lots of sites with articles on how to do this or that with your special one… but that was not what I was looking for. I was looking for a human voice to talk to. I read your blog and I began to cry… tears just started pouring out of me. I thought what in the world is wrong with me? I wasn’t sad, nothing you said was sad, but I felt a moment of …ah, she gets it. And so many don’t. My best friends do not, nor does my family. They hear me talk about my stuff ( when I decide I want to, cuz, honestly I do not want to hear all the…” wow I can not even imagine how you do this… You are amazing..” Because I am not amazing… I am just being a mom as best as I can be, everyday. No that is a lie.. I am not my best everyday. Some days, I just do enough to get through the day. And the guilt I feel lingers with me when I lay my head down to sleep…but I am so exhausted that I fall asleep anyway. I wake up the next day and say today I will do better. But I have to say…. these days…months… have been really HARD. I am really learning about myself, my limits, my darkness that sits in the bits of me. But music has been such an escape for me and my special one. My daughter loves it … and this is something that we can share together. And when it plays…we just become radiant and in the moment.. She makes me happy with her BIG HUGE smile as she is jumping up and down so hard I wonder if my paintings will fall off the walls with the vibration of her movements…her JOY is physical and seen. Yes…. sometimes just dancing is all it takes to take our breath away and forget about all that is.
Karen! First and foremost, I’m so sorry for the late reply! Second: Welcome, my friend! You found a clan. I’ve been terrible at being consistent on this blog. It’s been a rough few months with all things covid happening in the world, terrible politics, racial inequalities, and friends dropping off radars. I’ve mentally quarantined myself and just stopped. I stopped blogging, stopped living. I forgot how to be among the living. In the last couple of weeks, I’ve started to feel more me, happier, at peace. I’ve written several different posts over the last couple of months that just sit on my computer, not because they weren’t good posts, but they weren’t positive. This world needs more positive and your comment is just that. Your comment found its way to me at the perfect moment. For that, I thank you. Please swing by from time to time! I’d love a good chat with someone who speaks our secret language!