Tonight, as I went back into the room (for the fourth time) where my almost 2.5 year old twins were kicking each other in the toddler bed they insist on sharing (despite having two perfectly usable beds), I took a deep breath and promised not to lose my cool on them, no matter what. I had already yelled once about 20 minutes prior and look where that had gotten me - no closer to them sleeping or me getting to the list of things I still had to do.
As I held their hands and listened to them point out each other's body parts, I chose to smile along rather than think about the time I was "wasting." This was not easy, but eventually they hit a lull and I offered to sing a song. "Let it Go," Viv quietly demanded. So I sang, trying my best to channel Idina/Elsa without stirring them as they finally became still, their little chests rising and falling heavily. I couldn't help but notice how incredibly poetic it all was.
You see, for a little while there, I lost myself. By lost I mean down the rabbit hole, searching for a life preserver, on a cliff lost. I don't share much about my mental health struggles with anyone, especially not online (hence the whole radio silence for 6 months thing) but this one was a doozy. I haven't felt that way in a very, very long time.
The hardest part was being honest with myself. But I didn't want to do this again and fought it as hard as I could. It didn't even make any sense to me. I had taken up meditation, started journaling again and it was summer! How could I feel this way? Why now?! But honestly, for a long time, I was absolutely miserable.
I told myself all the things you say: You'll be fine. This is just a hard time, you'll get through it like always. Get over it! I forced myself to smile and hoped that it would just catch on. I got pretty good at faking it for a bit. But I've been on this ride before and I know how it ends and, at some point, it was do or die. Other people started to notice and my kids started to feel the affects and I realized that by avoiding the issue I was quickly becoming the very person I worked so hard to change. Bad habits started cropping back up, I lost my ability to just feel good. One day, I decided just to stop running away. I needed to face this, head on, or I was going to be lost forever in the tiny space between ok and not ok. It was hard freaking work, but three months later, I am still here. And significantly happier, I might add.
It was a meditation that finally changed everything for me. I actually just remembered that. It was back in September. It's not my favorite meditation but the message for me was loud and clear:
"There is nothing wrong with you."
Yes, I was currently troubled. Shit was kind of bad for a bit and we were worried. I talked about medication, seeing someone. There were options, but none of them felt like the right path for me.
Backstory: I was 17 when I saw my first Psychiatrist. He was kind and genuine, actually let me believe that I had borderline personality disorder and then prescribed me some not so great medication, then another and then sent me on my way to college and the resident social worker who would continue my talk therapy work. Five years later I was still on the pills, albeit the best of them all, when I aged out of my parent's insurance, got a job I loved and met CJ. That was ten years ago and I haven't been to therapy or taken a pill since. I chalked it all up to simply being a lost, lonely and impressionable teenager (Girl, Interrupted is one of my favorite movies of all time).
Imagine my surprise when all the same bs started cropping up again ten years later while I'm elbow-deep in raising two toddlers and trying to keep my infant nephew (and my marriage) alive at the same time? Worse, when you've been there already, you really, really don't want to go back - so you fight.
You see, your life is picture perfect and since no one else can see behind the scenes you start to wonder if it really is all in your head. You convince yourself it can't be real so it's not real and there is nothing wrong with you because you're fine ok bye. All while you're screaming/crying/dying inside but you do not break (yet).
Thankfully, I did learn quite a bit over those years in therapy (as well as from my little-used Psych degree) and I knew exactly what to do.
For me, the core issue was a matter of finding peace with the fact that this was my life, no matter what I felt or wanted to change about it. No, I don't regret my babies or husband, but often dwell on our finances and the future. The choices we made and where they led us. The things that can incite my anxiety at all hours of day and night even though there is literally nothing I can do about any of it right that second.
I finally realized, there is nothing wrong with me. It's my plans, and expectations and wants and desires and inability to just accept and go with the flow.
Medicating would not fix it. Talking to someone else might help but would be just one more thing on my list. I needed to do the work, clear out the chaos and just be. More so, I needed to prioritize the things that really mattered: self-care, my closest relationships and positive, mindful motherhood. I needed to trust that this journey, no matter how difficult, was meant for me, while focusing my energy on the areas that I could change.
So I let things go.
I gave up my dream of buying a house next year or even moving to a bigger apartment. I started seeing my backyard as an oasis, despite being smack in the middle of a neighborhood near an intersection. I cleared out the clutter and transformed our living spaces into places I enjoy spending time, rather than just living, in.
I gave up even thinking about potty training or teaching the girls anything, really. They'll get there. And they have. They're brilliant and wonderful and sweet. I completely stopped mentioning the fact that they seemed to only want to survive on cheese and bread. They're pretty into carrots and apples right now, though. I'll take it!
I gave up on my goal to have the house clean "enough." If I got to it, it got done, if I didn't, CJ did it, and with no complaints ever. I used that time and energy to actually play with and enjoy my kids every single day - hard as it was at first, even (especially?) for me. My mind still wanders to that to-do list but meditation is helping with that.
Finally, I gave up my aspirations to write for all the mom sites everywhere, even this blog. For months I thought, if I only get published or featured once at one of these big places (other than at Twinversity who I love and will continue to write for) then I can call myself a "real" writer. I tried so damn hard and even pitched a few awful articles (seriously, I won't even share them here they're just bad) and got turned down or ignored and I felt like crap. I finally realized that it's not me who sucks (well, not entirely) but that the market is completely over saturated with all these amazing writers whose lives I myself follow every day. If I ever wanted to do anything meaningful, it needed to be something different.
The second I let that one go, I felt better. No more wracking my brain and wasting hours a night trying to come up with a short AND funny AND compelling BUT sometimes hypocritical OR sanctimonious (inciting) piece for a few thousand shares on facebook and a couple blog hits. Plus, these women are so much better at it than I am, I don't even want to compete against them.
Instead, I started a few book ideas and actually wrote a poem or two. That's as far as I've gotten but it's a work in progress, right?
In the span of 8 months, I filled two journals, got up to two meditations a day totaling 30 minutes of straight up me time, cleared out a ton of clutter and cried my way through a lot of very hard days. I almost lost my best friend, almost went back to work and almost walked out the door a few times. But every day, by the grace of whoever runs this big mess, I kept on doing the work. I tuned in, slowed down and softened. All the while reaffirming my belief that while I might not be ok right now, this was just another part of my incredible journey.
I focused my energy on enjoying my life, exactly as it was, without manipulation or filters or guilt (let me tell you that is the hardest thing to let go).
Then, four days ago I signed up for a Mama Mini Retreat, hosted by Mothering Arts. The purpose was to create intentions and rhythms while clarifying our focus on what we wanted and needed the next month to be for ourselves and our families. I just happened upon it on Facebook and joined - it turned out to be one of the best things I've done for my mental health. The courses and prompts were short and simple yet deep and thought-provoking and I felt both challenged and inspired. These three days changed the way I plan our routines and commitments and helped me bridge the gap between wanting to be present and actually noticing and participating in my own life, something I've worked so hard on for so long.
These words changed it all for me:
"The Art of Mothering is to embrace your authentic, imperfect, unique self. By doing this with gentleness and grace, we offer a living model of self-love to our child." - Kerry Ingram
I am still here. There is nothing wrong with me.
As a result of this course, I have a clear intention for the month of December: to embrace the spirit of the season in exactly the way that is going to serve my family best.
This means closeness with our loved ones, sharing the warmth of blankets and Christmas lights, indulging in cookies and savoring the stillness of a snowy afternoon.
It means reliving memories through decorations and music and putting real thought into selecting the gifts we will give to our closest ones to show how much they mean to us.
It means letting go of the we-should-dos and I-want-tos while enduring every trying tantrum or ruined Kodak moment or insanely long bedtime with love, compassion and grace.
It also means closing out an intense year on a high note and with the best of intentions for 2017. Which has a 7 in it and that's my favorite number, plus CJ is working his butt off and got a raise, so I have high hopes that it will be a good year.
And to 2016? Well, you were a jerk. In so, so many ways for me and so many others. But I thank you for the lessons you provided me and my family and the fact that I now know if we can survive a year like you then we're pretty much good for life
I am happy to say that I have won a year-long course provided by Mothering Arts. So at least I can thank 2016 for being the year that I finally won something! I've always believed that everything happens for a reason and this just shows me that staying true to my own path will always work out in the end.
I probably won't be writing again any time soon as I simply don't have time (seriously, how do the legit Mommy Bloggers do this?) but I'll be keeping the blog live for the heck of it. Oh and here's a pic of our not-so baby girls wearing purple to celebrate World Prematurity Day last month (Nov. 17th).
Follow us on Instagram (@beau_leo_twins) to keep up with us!
Thank you all for being a part of this journey with me, for supporting and loving me when I needed it most and for caring so damn much about these beautiful girls. I am sending all of you my best hopes for a magical season of love and kindness and wish you all the very happiest of new years!