Bear with Me

I have hit the wall. Or rather, it hit me. Last weekend (I'm just now verbalizing all this) I withdrew into darkness/tears/aloneness-and not by choice. It hit me unaware--I have never had a bout before. I'm usually too selfish to give more than I have, too self-preserving to let connection to my sources of happiness be unplugged, too much of a fighter to let go of my hopes and faith. But it happened. I felt I had failed and didn't believe the future had anything different in store. Last week I had to simplify all my goals--I decided to just focus on feeding my family well, not cry during the day, and move through depression as if it was a puddle of mud to be conquered. I never want to go there again. I'm mad that it robbed me of my otherwise vibrant inner life. I'm mad it made Cyler's life harder. My power has got to be more than this despair right? I have to hope that it is. I hope I learn the lesson this episode of sadness is supposed to teach me--is it to simplify/be more realistic/say no more/prepare for uncertainty better/be quiet more? So, sorry. No pictures (eventhough we made cute cups we used to hold our q-tips that we bet with for the Super Bowl), no recipes (eventhough I made Moussaka, shrimp tacos, and homemade chicken pot pie), and no creative ragings (I'm having to relearn that my voice matters in the world-still not sure about that one). Blogging as therapy may help me--to write to everyone-no one. I will treat getting distance between me and despair like I do a workout--specific actions done over and over, small goals to reach large ones, taking rests when needed, do a little better (not synonymous with 'more') each day,