The last few weeks, ok who am I kidding….the last few months have felt like we’ve just been coasting along.  Waiting.  Anticipating.

Waiting for school to start.  It has and so far so good.  The girls and I, after our initial adjustment period, are really starting to find our way.  I try not to kick myself too much for not trying this when we first moved here.

Waiting for the list to come out.  We’ve known for months the list would come out “on/about September 13th”.  I’m believing that the list will be early (would be AWESOME) or on time (would be peachy).  I’m not even going to consider the consequences on my mental state if the list is late.  Oy.

Found out yesterday that our neighbor directly behind us is in line to be a Shirt also.  He was scheduled to go to a class earlier but ended up not being able to go.  He got to the point in the process where he got his list of possibles.  When HIS list came out there were I think 23 bases to choose from and he had a five day window to turn his ordered list back in.

To me that says that our options will probably be many.  It also says to me that if we have that short of a time frame to get the list turned back in that our assignment should come pretty soon after.  My prediction/hope that we’ll know where we’re going by October MIGHT just be possible!

So, now we wait.  Some more.  13 days……

This may be the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to write/admit/expose but I feel like I should, so I will.  For honesty.  For clarity.  For being real like I said I would.  This may be hard for some of you to read.  I understand, really I do.

The days since the weaning off Wellbutrin haven’t been easy.  Well, that’s oversimplifying by a long shot.  They’ve been pretty terrible.  Angry.  Sobbing.  Uncontrollable crying that just comes out of nowhere and has no rhyme or reason.

Now, I knew from the start that there would be tears and emotions to deal with.  Was prepared for that.  But yesterday was the turning point.

Had been crying off and on since before lunch.  Trying to hold it together since the girls had company over.  As the day progressed, the cloud of depression just seemed to take over and I couldn’t get out of it.  Talking to Steven didn’t help.  Crying and trying to move on didn’t help.  Taking a minute (or 12) to myself didn’t help.  But there came a moment yesterday evening when I knew.

Knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that in spite of any misgivings I may have about taking the medications, in spite of the fact that I’d LIKE to get off of them, I HAVE to take them.  At least for now.

When I was standing in the kitchen washing dishes and I began to think about how much better off Steven and the girls would be without me, I knew.

Now, let me get something straight here.  I don’t mean I thought about how they’d be if I died or anything.  I just mean without me being HERE.  As in, maybe I should just walk out the front door, get into the car and drive away.

I thought about how much easier Steven’s life in general would be without this crazy, sobbing, out of control woman in his life.

I thought about how much easier the girls’ lives would be without that same nut around.  How they could go to school with teachers who know what they’re doing, with the opportunity to do things I just can’t.

That’s when it hit me.

And I cried harder than I’ve cried in a long time.  Because I know it isn’t true.  I know that it is the crazy talking in my head.  I know that without meds, at least for now, I am not a normally functioning adult.  And Steven and the girls need one of those normal people in their lives.

So, we’re back to square one.

This side of healing or heaven, I guess I’ll be on meds.

Please don’t call me and try to discuss this.  I’m not up for it.  I am still having a hard time talking without crying but it’s going to get better.  Please don’t tell me that if I had just a little more faith, if I prayed just a little harder, if I (fill in the blank with whatever YOU think I should be doing) then I’d get better.  Believe me, I have faith, I am praying.  If I wasn’t I don’t think I’d be sitting here in my house typing this right now.  I’d be driving aimlessly trying to figure out where to go……

Why is it when I look in the mirror all I see are the flaws?  The imperfections?  The things I can change and haven’t?  The ones I can’t change?  Is that all I am?  A mass of flaws with only passing bits of “it’ll do” thrown in for good measure?

NO!  I am so much more than that.  What I see as flaws or weaknesses, God sees as opportunities to show His strength.  He thinks I’m beautiful.  Smart.  Capable.

Why do we do this to ourselves?  Why do we focus on the negatives that we see rather than the truth that we know?

I have this tendency when The Boy is gone to get locked in on the fact that he’s not here.  To lament and bemoan the fact that I don’t have him here.  To wile away the days in an incessant countdown of each 24 hours I must plod through in order to have him back here.  Then I had my 2×4 moment……

I had driven over to Alexandria yesterday to return some videos we’d rented.  The girls had stayed at the house, working on their schoolwork.  Steven was on video chat with them and I left knowing he’d keep an “eye” on them.

Now, normally when I have the opportunity to be in the car alone I crank up the music, roll the windows down and sing like an idiot.  But, recently I had read something about turning down the background noise in our lives and just being quiet.  Stop being afraid of the silence.  And I began to wonder what thoughts exactly was I trying to drown out with all that noise?  So I got into the car and didn’t turn on the music.  I just drove.  Round trip this trek to the video store takes me almost an hour.  (I know, nothing is nearby here.  It’s crazy.)

At first it was somewhat odd.  I felt the need to, mentally at least, talk to myself.  I found myself making mental notes and lists for later.  About the time I got on the interstate (roughly 7-10 minutes after getting in the car) I made myself stop.  I began to just listen.

Now granted, there was no sudden epiphany.  It wasn’t like a giant light bulb went off or a choir of angels descended on the hood of my car in a flash of brilliant light to announce my Ah Ha moment.

What there was was a slow dawning of realization.  A “well duh” moment that slipped in without me noticing.  I had walked in, dropped off the movies and had gotten back into my car.  As I’m looking behind me to back out of my parking space it happened.

I asked myself why in the world am I sooooo focused on the fact that The Boy isn’t here?  Why am I not focused on the fact that today I have my girls waiting at home?  Why am I not rejoicing in the fact that even though he isn’t here I can talk to him every day.  Most days I can talk to him, via email, more than I do when he’s physically nearby.

What do I gain by focusing on the “don’t haves”?  What am I missing by overlooking the simple joys I do have?  Why am I not celebrating the simple fact that I’m alive?  That Christ loves me and each and every day is a gift?

How much time have I wasted on this?  How many amazing opportunities have I let pass me by because I couldn’t get my head out of the hole of self-pity?

Today, I’m striving to turn down the background noise.  To listen for and look for opportunities to rejoice in who I am.  In whose I am.  In what I have.  In the air I breathe, the flowers I see.  To shout from the mountain tops that today is a gift and I intend to open it carefully and relish each tiny bit of it.