The Difference of a Week

I think I’m doing better at keeping myself together.

Let me rephrase that.  I’m keeping the saddness at bay, but I’m really a mess when it comes to getting organized.  Well, I guess there’s always something that has to give.  If I mess up our summer playgroup schedule enough, maybe someone else will take over.  (Or, everyone will just stop coming because they’re sick of me scheduling trips to museums that aren’t open.)

Since last week’s epiphany I set the goal to start small.  I would try to keep the house tidier (as that has a major impact on my moods) and I would try to spend more time doing things I actually enjoyed.  I also determined to try to think as positively as I could, but to cut myself more slack as well.

Definitely I have some hormonal things going on.  Guy Smiley is three months old; three months is when my hair starts falling out and my skin gets wierd.  Three months is when my appetite changes every single day.  Naturally I can assume that three months is also when I’m blue.

My sister in law, whose youngest is 13 months, says she’s still “not right” hormonally.  I asked, horrified, “does this mean I’m going to be stupid forever?”  In my mind I thought, “am I also going to be sad forever?”

I’m not, however, ready to chalk the whole thing up to hormones and wait out the storm. 

I’ve been thinking about this past year.  There was last spring’s disequilibrium, the summer of tears, a weary winter (too many posts to link), and a very eventful spring.  It is wholly possible that this is my body’s reaction to all the stress.  Understanding all the reasons that I’m not myself is so freeing.  It’s nice to know that all of my episodes are not isolated incidents, and that there are reasons behind my irrationality.  Just knowing that has helped me feel better.

I’m not all better.  But I’m crying less, and I’m less sad.  I weathered seeing Little Red ignored all day better than I thought, and even the disappointment of both of my playdates today falling through.  My kitchen is mostly clean, and I’m learning how to knit.  I still feel like my life is upside down and I wish I could fix things I can’t (like my husband’s lack of job satisfaction), but I’m trying to dwell on happy things and look to the future with optimism, even if it’s just blind hope.