Saturday, June 26, 2010

In a Phoenix Phase... again

I've battled with depression in the past. That hopeless feeling you get when you feel you're stuck in a situation you just can't get out of. I haven't dropped to that level yet, but good God, I'm having a rough time lately.

My sister put it into perspective for me this past week in an email. It was hard to look at, but so true. My entire life has changed - 95% from what it was less than six months ago. I'm burning again, and I know there's major rebirth - there's some hard seed deep within that's just beginning to crack open to new possibilities I've never considered. I get that. But philosophy aside, this period of my life sucks. It really, really hurts. And I don't feel like I can take much more. Here's a snippet of the changes:

- Single mom
- New house
- Loss of brother-in-law, who I loved dearly
- Major financial changes
- New job
- New job isn't what I'd hoped for
- Loss of a business, built from a dream
- Loss of steady child care thanks to the loss of the business
- Many, many upset families thanks to said business loss
- New dog, again. A puppy that chews, to boot.
- Health issues
- Closing down the second business
- Failing a client for the first time in my life
- Living in a house starting from scratch. No furniture. No cable. Constantly breaking appliances.
- No place to go to to relax, calm, renew
- Missing out on the time I had with the kids - narrowing from 5+ hours to 2 hours a day of free time with them, IF I'm lucky. I'm half the mom I was. Hell, not even half. I'm tired, I'm cranky and I don't friggin feel like playing Barbies. Sheesh.

And so, yeah, I'm down in the dumps. I haven't been out with any of my friends in over a month. I haven't had my regular girlfriends over on our regular nights, who I never realized made me so much saner. I've made plans, but every time I do, I end up having the kids, dealing with a crisis or emergency or working a trillion hours that won't allow me to get away for a moment of peace.

So, I guess it's just a funk. My temptation is to go to the doctor, to ask for something to make it all feel better. To find an easier way out than getting up each day, battling through it, coming home defeated. But I won't. Not yet. Given that long laundry list of changes, i think it would be abnormal not to feel unhappy, unsatisfied, forlorn. I will get there, and I will mark each day off the calendar until I get to that day where I can once again wake up, knowing I can make it through the day and that it will, indeed, be a better day.

Until then, burning down to ashes, awaiting my reawakening.


  1. Geez, Kim. I'm just so sorry. I am not surprised you're feeling this way. If I had not seen a post like this from you I would have been shocked. I wish there was something I could do to help you. Would you like some company? I'll make it work. You just tell me what works for you.

    Many, many hugs, my dear friend.

  2. Hugs. I can't begin to imagine all you have gone through. My prayers are with you.