Mom's out of here again! She is on her way to South Korea. I miss her already. She was such a big help to me this summer. This summer was probably the worst summer of my whole life. Divorce. Bankruptsy. Babysitting. Surgery. Depression. I would not be alive right now if it weren't for my mom, and I don't just mean the whole giving birth to me thing. Love you, Mom! Have a safe trip, and I'll hug you next year!

Today was DeAngelo's first day of school, like ALL day school, not half-day kindergarten. That means I can get something like 7 hours of sleep while he's in school. The first day was hard for him. He woke up early this morning, obviously excited about starting school. I packed his first ever lunch for school. After school he disappeared into his room and was too quiet when I went to go check on him. He was passed out. A full day of school is going to take a little getting used to. Here's a picture of DeAngelo and his new teacher Mr. White.

I’m depressed. I’ve only just now realized it. I can be dense sometimes.

I was diagnosed with depression for the first time in high school although it had probably been there all my life. I remember how it slowly built until it was a force greater than I could control.

My mom had suffered from depression and was a great help and resource. Since then it has resurfaced several times. You’d think I’d recognize the warning signs by now. But with everything going on in my life right now no one could blame me for not noticing. Except me. I blame me. I know better.

Anyway, Mom gave me a booklet this guy wrote about his experiences with depression. It inspired me to write my own. What its like for me. Maybe you’ve been through depression and can relate. Maybe you live with someone suffering from depression and it will help you understand. I don’t know.

You know those commercials “Depression hurts”? I say “Depression Sucks!”

It’s like its dark and it will never be light again.

It’s like a migraine and I want to be left alone in the dark, in the quiet.

But why won’t the phone ring?

Something is terribly wrong and it’s gotten so bad I know I can’t hide it. Then why has no one noticed and come to my rescue?

It’s like sleep. It’s like a dream. None of the monsters are as real or as scary as they seem.

And I do sleep, to get away. But sleep doesn’t come easily. Thoughts chase me. Voices mock me. Imaginary conversations with real people carve into me and now I know what they really feel about me.

The longer it lasts the more real it becomes. This is me. The old me? The happy one? She was the illusion.

I don’t want to get on pills again. Why is there no cure? Maybe it will go away on its own. I know it won’t. It never did before. Before. There was never a time before the darkness. The dark cloud before my eyes obscures all things past and future and all I can see is this present darkness. This is what I am. I’ve never been anything better. This is what I am. I’ll never be anything more.

No one understands. “It’s not that bad.” “It will get better.” “When it rains it pours.” They don’t see things as I do. And I know they are trying to help, to comfort. But making me feel like I’m overreacting and my problems are surmountable doesn’t help and only makes me feel more helpless against the darkness.

Tears only bring more pain and guilt. Kind words only bring anger and frustration.

It’s like its dark and it will never be light again.

I can’t eat. Don’t want to. I’ve lost all energy. I want a nap. I can’t sleep. I want to. I’m tired. I trip over my feet. I smile. It’s exhausting. I try to keep up the front. Why should my bad mood affect them? I’m snappy and irritated. I hold my tongue here but I’ll have another imaginary conversation with you later and tell you what I really think of you. But I don’t think that. Not really. I want you to stay and hold me. I don’t know you that well but I need a hug. My eyes burn, but I’m tired of crying. My chest is tight with anger but I’m too drained to fight. I want your company, but I’m too exhausted to plead with you to stay. I’ll beat myself up about it later when I’m alone.

“Why are you depressed?” well meaning people ask. How do I answer that question? “Why is the moon full? Why are the leaves changing color and falling off the trees? It’s just the season.” Maybe I should give them the medical reason. “It’s an imbalance of chemicals in my body.” But I can imagine the look and the questions that would follow. It’s easy when it’s “My father died.” “My dog ran away.” But that’s not the same sort is it? If I had an answer for “Why are you depressed?” Maybe it would go away when answered. But its not one thing or ten things it’s an unknown thing. It doesn’t go away with the circumstances. “Why does a dog bark or a duck quack? Why does Alice get depressed?” It’s just the way I was made.

So I know Father's Day wasn't the best day to do this, but I told Ron he can't watch the kids anymore until he has his own place. I woke up early afternoon today and Ron was gone and so were my car keys.

"Mom, when does Father's Day start?"

"It already started, DeAngelo."

"But, then where's Daddy?"

I hated that I was in that position. And I know its not entirely Ron's fault. I call myself trying to help him but I'm really just keeping him from growing up. He'll be 30 in a few days. I really wish he'd get it together.

That's Mom in Gabon. Aint it pretty?

Mom is back from Gabon. That's a country in Africa. Africa is not a
country. She is a world traveller as you may know already. Her blog
would be a lot more interesting than mine if she would create one. But she hasn't so you're stuck with me. She says she's electronically
challenged, but I don't buy it.

Callie had to work their first night up here. That's why she's not in the pictures.

DeAngelo graduated from Kindergarten today. It was so cute. They made me cry. But its not entirely my fault I don't think. The whole thing is designed to make you sob like a baby. They did a slide show for cryin out loud! And the songs they chose?! I'm telling you they were trying to make me cry. At the end the kids are all singing the goodbye song and the curtain opens and says "1st grade here we come" waterworks again! It was really cute.

This seems like its been a really long school year, and summer seems so short. He learned so much this year. We have homework over the summer to work on his sight words. Somehow he's gotten it into his head that he won't be able to read until he turns 6. We'll have to get over that. I asked his teacher how she can do this, letting go of her students, year after year, and she didn't think it was that big a deal. But maybe its because I remember what he looked like as a baby. I remember when he was learning to walk and talk. And now he's learning to read and going to first grade! Its just amazing to me.

He's only mine for such a short amount of time. People tell me that my kids are really good kids. I shrug it off and say I didn't have much to do with it. Mostly because if I think about the awesome responsibilty I've been entrusted with the weight on my shoulders would be unbearable.

So, now its "school's out for the summer," and in the fall its "first grade here we come."

"Hi My name is DeAngelo. My favorite memory of kindergarten was when we went to the zoo. When I grow up I want to be a doctor. Thank you for listening."

I had a really good Mother's Day today. I don't know why I'm always so surprised when good things happen to me. I got enough sleep. I got to chat with my mom online (she's still in Gabon). Ron bought me Die Hard 4. Its not exactly a chick flick, but I like that movie, and he stole my first copy of it which I think is funny, because I didn't even notice. Then he took me and the kids to eat at Old Chicago. Sometimes I think he's a little bi-polar because he can be a real jerk sometimes, but today was a "good day" for him. Oh, and he even cleaned my house! When we were actually together darn near every holiday I would tell him don't BUY me anything, just clean the house and I'll be happy. He never listened then, but it was a nice surprise to wake up to a clean house today. All in all it was a perfect day if such things exsist. Even the weather was awesome. I still had to go to work which is always a bummer, but some of my favorite people work on Sundays so we got to hang out all night. It was one of the best Mother's Days I can remember for a while. Thanks, Ron.

My friend Leona had her baby today. Vivianna was born at 930pm 8 pounds 10 ounces.

Babies are so awesome. They are the only good reason to go to the hospital. I went to go visit her while she was in labor just hanging out waiting for the baby. She is one tough cookie. No drugs. Let me just say, I was tramatized. I love babies, but I don't want to have anymore babies coming out of this body. I teasingly blame Leona, "Leona's the reason I'm getting my tubes tied." I tell people. But really just seeing her go through everything she has gone through in the last few months brought back not so wonderful memories. I remember being so uncomfortable you can't get a good nights sleep. I remember all the weight. I remember the stretch marks, although they are hard to forget. I remember being a monster to live with, hormones raging. (Not that you were that way at ALL Leona.) So, I'm getting my tubes tied next month. Not only do I not want to have any more kids physically, I do not want to have any kids with anyone other than Ron. He's a handful to deal with all on his own. I don't need another one in my life. And anyway there's always adoption. I know it seems like I'm still strying to rationalize it in my mind, and maybe I'll have that glint of doubt and later regret forever. But I really do feel like this is the best decision for me. I love my boys, and they love each other. But yeah, contractions? Pushing? Nope, don't want to do that again.

So I made a resolution 5 months ago to take care of myself. It sounds simple enough don't it? Let me confess I'm failing miserably. I'm smoking still which is screwing with my immune system. I don't remember the last time I went to the gym. I'm still not cooking, so I eat crap. And you are what you eat. As much as I talk about my divorce on my blog I'm really not dealing with it. I'm still surrounded by people who use me and take advantage of me for their own pleasure, because in my sickness I think being needed is the same as being wanted. I still let people's opinions of me effectively alter my mood. My life is a disorganized disastrous mess, as my living room floor often reflects. I obsess about things and people and situations that don't matter. I can't remember the last time I went to church. And it is quite possibly the birth control hormones but I've been thinking a lot about the play Death of a Salesman lately. And I know I'm too hard on myself. I'm human you say. I'm doing better than some you say. But I say I'm not doing as well as I know I could.

Remember that movie I Am Legend? That guy didn't have it so bad in my opinion. Ok so those zombie things ran around trying to eat him, but he if hadn't been trying to save them, to fix everything, he could have just chilled with his dog watching Shrek until he died peacefully in his bed of old age. Not a bad life, and no one would have faulted him for it.

PS (No not "I love you" what are you trying to do get me crying again?) I seriously think those birth control hormones have me ALL screwed up, so don't pay too much mind to anything said here. Except to say that human injected hormones are a creation of the devil (or men maybe, I mean there's not much difference) to make women crazy. Remember Fried Green Tomatoes? "How many them hormones you takin, Honey?"

Last night I watched P.S. I love you. It was the saddest freakin movie I've seen in my life. I cried more than Hillary Swank. I literally sobbed. I realized I am alone.

I've tried lately to explain to my friends that I've been lonely. "How can you be lonely?" they ask. "You have your kids." Did I hear you scoff? Then you understand. Having my kids around is NOT the same thing. Kids are not the cure for this kind of loneliness. I have been spending much of my free time since the split covering up the loneliness, ignoring it, hoping it would go away. Last night I realized I need to embrace it, to learn from it, to never forget it. Because

Heaven forbid you end up alone and don't know why
Hold on tight wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright

Some of the best scenes in the movie in my opinion are the ones with Hilary Swank and Kathy Bates. Daughter is learning about mother, and vice versa. There's the one where Hilary says that it doesn't matter what she does, what job she has, who her friends are she's alone. "I mean, you're alone no matter what." and Bates answers simply "That's right."

I'm not anybody's somebody. I've never not been someone's somebody. And that's a blessing and a curse. I want to belong to someone, but at the same time I don't want to belong to just anybody. I want somebody special. This guy I was completely in love with at the time told me, "You'll find someone. There are plenty of guys out there." Obviously. But a man I like? Can put up with? Can put up with me? Has his life, head, heart, and soul together? Those are few and far between I think. And in this in between I'm alone. Probably for good reason. I need to get my life, head, heart, and soul together. In between I'm alone.

I haven't seen this movie in years! But it keeps popping into mind. I've been thinking about the part where the whole family is at the pool, and the new boyfriend, Stu, is talking so some guy about his girlfriend and the fact that she has three kids. The guy says something like "Three kids, that's a lot of baggage." And Stu goes on to explain that he loves Miranda AND her children. Why can't I find a guy like that? All the guys I talk to are too young and too selfish. My mom prays for me to find the right guy for me. I don't know. Maybe its better for me to be alone. I don't do relationships well. Maybe I'm too young and selfish!
One of my friends told me once that she doesn't believe in love between a man and woman exsists. She believes that people are naturally born too selfish to give a crap about someone else like that. I think she was more than a little bitter at the time, but maybe there is some truth to that. All of our own needs always seem to get in the way, our need for security, pleasure, love.

Anyway, where's my Pierce Brosnan?

At church today Pastor Robert talked about the goal of the Christian life is to be more like Jesus. He said we don't have to DO anything to be more like Jesus, just open ourselves up to God and let him do all the work. He showed how in contrast to the world we live in is that view. We live, especially in America, in a society of Do-ers. We are defined by what we do. I've been learning about the Beattitudes for the last few years it seems. Its a difficult concept for me to grasp. The fact that we don't have to do anything for salvation, because that was already done for us, makes sense to me. God always demanded a blood sacrifice to cleanse our sins. The fact that Jesus was the last and perfect sacrifice seems just, in that it makes things even, and pays our debt. And that makes sense. But then after we accept this free gift that we never could have earned, we aren't supposed to DO anything else? That part is hard to explain, and hard for me to grasp sometimes. I try to think of it like all I am and all I want is a lump of play-dough or something balled up in my fist. All I have to do is open my fist and let God do whatever he wants with it. I don't have to change my thoughts, my heart, my actions. He will do that for me. And when I really think about it, its kind of ridiculous to think that I COULD ever change my heart, my actions, or my thoughts. I've been trying this long with no results, haven't I? It makes sense that the God of heaven and earth, the One that created me, and knew of me, and had plans for me before I was born is the only one who can make those kind of changes. But the fact that I don't have to DO anything? I'm just supposed to surrender? I'm supposed to sit back, and let God make me into what he wants me to be? Well, that just goes against my grain, like petting a cat in the wrong direction. Even writing this now its funny to me that I can accept the one thing and not the other. Its probably because I still think somewhere inside that I can change myself. If I pray enough, if I read my Bible enough, if I just have enough self control, I can change. Where do those funny ideas come from? I can only think it comes from the church. Not the church I'm at now, maybe not even one I've ever been to, but the legalistic "Thou shalt not" and "Thou must" church that floats around our society like a smog that chokes the joy and freedom being in Christ gives us. The thing I've got to realize is this: God did give His son as a free gift of salvation to all that would accept it, but also every day God gives us the gift of freedom. Every day God gives us the choice to surrender to Him. Every day I can say, "I'm not going to worry about what I'm going to say, think, or do today. I'll let God worry about that for me." Then at the end of the day we just need to have the same patience and loving kindness that God has for us. "I messed up today, but God is working on me." we can say. And really that's the gift of the Christian life isn't it? Freedom from ourselves. Freedom from our hang-ups and faults. Freedom to trust that the God who began a good work in us, before our father's father was born, will be faithful to complete it. If only we would just let Him.

DeAngelo said out of the blue, "How are you, Mom?" I sighed. I had been having a really bad week to tell the truth but you don't dump that on your 5 year old.

"How are you DeAngelo?" I said buying myself some time.

"I'm good." he said like only a child can with no weight or responsibilities on their shoulders.

"I'm good too. I'm just tired."

And then came the wisdom only a child can share and my new motto, "Well, it could be worser."

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I picked up DeAngelo from school the other day and he had this gem to share with me.

"Mom, I just read Braden's mind. Let's see what yours says." Then he squished up his little face and really concentrated.  What are they teaching these kids in school?!

Dear DeAngelo,

I love you! You changed my life in so many ways. I'm honored to be your mother. You make me so proud. I love the way you're so independent, and smart. Even though I cringe sometimes at your smart mouth I can only smile to myself because you get that from me! I love your ridiculous jokes that you make up. You amaze me everyday with all the things you know. Like when you spit up your food and swallowed it again just like a cow. I love how you've made my stomach stronger, and will never forget all the times you've thrown up on me. I love the way you tell me about Jesus. I love all your questions, especially the ones I don't know how to answer. You're such a good big brother. I see the way you care about Braden and take care of him when you think I'm not paying attention. I love it when you show you still need me, because sometimes you're so independent I forget. I love that you're so much like me, even though it scares me sometimes. I love that you're so strong. I love you! I've enjoyed getting to know you these last 5 years. I thank God for sending you to me. I pray you balance the traits you get from me with healthy well-adjusted traits as well! As much as I love you, remember my big boy that God loves you even more than I ever could. Keep your eyes on Jesus, and remember he's looking out for you even when I cannot.

I love you,

Mom