The List 

(That title is supposed to look all secretive like that book The Secret.  But I’m not a web genius so that’s what you get!)

I made a list today.  It started out being a list of things we need, but as usual can’t afford, for the house.  Like a drill.  And a sander.  And a sprayer.  And screens.  New gutters.  Stumps from my trees that got removed yesterday removed.  A hose.  Mosquito spray.  Landscaping.  The patio pad that I was going to get when Uncle Sam came (before I realized he was 80% less generous this year than last).

Then I started to make a list of things I need.  I felt a crack in the surface today.  Which upset me, but at least it wasn’t a full-on meltdown.  I can be positive about that, right?

I think I came up with a pretty good list.

Except at the end I almost wrote “Kill Myself.”

Which bothers me because I finally decided a few weeks ago that dead isn’t what I really want to be.  Being dead is final.  You can’t come back after the kids have grown out of what’s making you crazy.  You can’t come back at night when they’re asleep to be with your hubby.  You can’t go to the movies with your friends.  So this post really isn’t about that.

It bothers me because after Mom got here I felt such a weight lift from my shoulders.  I felt like, “finally…Someone is here to take care of ME!”

Someone I trust is here to get my kids to stop treating me like crap because I just don’t have the strength or energy to do it myself.  I know any one of my friends would’ve done it, but it’s not their job.  It’s my job.  And if their mom can’t do it, it’s perfectly acceptable for Grandma to step in.

But the weight came back today.  And it’s all I can do to not curl up in my bed for a crying fit.  I can’t.  Because Mom might hear.  And I didn’t bring her here for that.  I brought her here so I could help her get better.

I should’ve stayed in the car.  It’s warmer and nobody needs me in there.

I know some of you will read this and jump to thoughts of how selfish I am for thinking this way.  Please don’t.  Not all of my thoughts make it out of my head and onto the page, and the details of how I got like this have long been forgotten by me but are coming to mind more and more.  Which is great for me, but not for my readers.  I guess you’ll have to take me as I am.


5 thoughts on “ The List 

  1. Love your realness… too often women in the church put on this fascade of ‘perfectness’ (they are popping prozac behind closed doors) I am suspicious of those types of women.. the ones who are spitshined and perfectly coiffed. Comfort yourself that at least you have the guts to be real and examine your dark… because that is the beginning of true enlightenment.

    My buddhist dad told me a story that I think is really true. Imagine all your talents and personality quirks as little children of yours. You show them off, you hug them, you love them. Now imagine all your demons as other little children of yours. You are ashamed of them, you make them live in the basement and refuse to acknowledge them let alone love them. You lock the door and pretend they don’t exist. Well sooner or later, probably when company is over those little nightmare children will escape from your basement and run naked terrorizing your guests and yourself. They will ALWAYS escape. The only way to tame them is to love them – just like your ‘good’ children. Give them hugs, acknowledge they exist and get to know them… Once they are loved, they will morph into some of your greatest inheritances… they will help you grow and become powerhouses for you.

    As for me, I’m naming mine. 🙂

  2. I think many, many women suffer with depression. In fact, I was at a focus group for the Mormon Messages today, and they were asking for ideas of topics. I said that I think they really need to do one about mental health issues.

  3. Dearest Sally, you are a strong woman. Don’t ever think otherwise. You are not selfish. You have given your whole life to your boys and you have accepted the help of your mother. That was smart and selfless. You are so full of life and have brought me laughter with your posts and writings on more than one occasion. I know we weren’t close in school, but now that we are adults, and more, we are mothers, we have so much more in common. I can’t say I understand your pain because no one but you can know your pain. But I do understand that innate maternal instinct to want so much for your kids, your hubby, and most importantly for you. Unfortunately, the “you” tends to be last on the list. This is what we mothers understand.

    Vent, cry, throw things, blog. Do whatever you need to do. These few actions are actually for you.

    I am so far from you but with as many curses as there are from the internet, I hope that I can somehow use it to be “there” for you. Use me. Call me. Chat me. Tweet me. Play games with me.

    We love you, Sally.

  4. “I should have stayed in the car. It’s warmer and nobody needs me in there.”

    I ALWAYS stay in the car a few minutes after everybody gets out. Drives my husband nuts. But seriously, it’s WARM, (blessed greenhouse effect) and will you just GIVE ME A FEW SECONDS before I have to get going again? Thank you.

    Now write a list of things you love. (Coke Zero, Your husband, sunshine, your pool, etc.) Go on. It’ll help when stuff gets really dark.

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