The Cliffs of Insanity

I couldn't do everything I wanted to this Christmas. For the first time in my life, we didn't have our gingerbread advent. We didn't do neighbor gifts, no Christmas cards or creative emails of our year in review. I barely pushed out teacher gifts and other somewhat meaningless traditions. We did have our tree, the lights went up (thanks to Mr. Man freezing his wazoo off) and we did our Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve so that we could eat leftovers Christmas day - best idea ever. As I started to pull down all the decor tonight, I realized there are mounds of books and movies that never got touched, crafts that are still in their packages, cookie cutters that didn't make any cookies, and warm fuzzies that sat up on the shelf and never got put in our jar. But even Christmas didn't wait for me to feel better. It came and went and I did my best to help my family appreciate the moments and the reason for the season. Even though I struggle to feel the spirit, even the Christmas spirit, at all these days.

The day after Christmas we left to go visit Mr. Man's dad. We had a 10 hour drive the first day and stopped at Bryce Canyon (see pictures). I didn't even know this place existed. It was beautiful, breath-taking and frightening. A couple of my kids crawled up the path, too scared to stand upright or peek over the edges. Right now that is how life is for me. I know it is beautiful and wonderful and breath-takingly amazing, and yet I am doing my best to merely crawl along the path and attempt a glimpse. Sometimes I am frozen stiff, and unable to move... completely afraid and sure I will fall. But I know that it's there. I know I can be happy and stand tall again someday.

I was scared to death of this trip. I haven't slept at night for months now - complete insomnia. And yet I nap and doze throughout the day. How would I do this at someone else's house. What if I broke down in tears at the worst possible moment, or screamed at someone who didn't deserve it? What if I just couldn't get out of bed and do what our hosts had so diligently planned for us to do? What if I couldn't smile or pretend to be happy? I cried almost the whole drive down. Worried sick and full of anxiety. Thankfully, despite a few bad moments, our week went well. And then, I cried on the way home because I didn't want to come back to real life.

I've been doing a lot of reading and seeking for help and healing. I'm learning so much and also feeling less and less alone in my journey. For a depressed person, I'm really quite normal! For those of you who cannot begin to even comprehend depression (but are still reading this for some strange reason), this analogy by Dick Cavett is helpful. He explains, "This is depression: You are lying on a couch in your living room feeling weighted down with a horrendous burden which renders you immobile. Ten feet away, there is a credenza and on the credenza is a magic wand. You know that if you could just get to the magic wand you could wave it and the magic would immediately restore you to health. But you are absolutely incapable of getting yourself off the couch."

I'm re-learning how to "think", and I'm trying to "do".

This week I am doing my in-school experience at a local Montessori school. I hope I can stand tall and do what I need to do there and at home.

Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I'll post more pictures of our trip soon.