Forgive my absence. Life's been busy--to say the least. I have often thought how therapeutic it would be to sit down and write my thoughts at night, but I haven't had the energy to do so. A month or so I finally took a big gulp and asked my doctor for extra help with postpartum. Up to that point, I had been trying to navigate the constant storm of emotions by openly talking with Tim, friends, family and professionals. Talking seemed to help to a point. But then it stopped helping. Talking started feeling like a terrible task, and I started to avoid calls and visits, and I retreated inward and away from people who were trying to help. The farther I slipped into my own world, the more frustrated I became with the dominant spirit inside my body. I constantly felt anger and sadness. Happiness seemed but a distant memory, even when everything around me was okay and there was no proverbial or literal "spilled milk." So I talked to Tim and we decided that I would try medicine to calm my troubled heart, and as much I hate to admit it, it is really helping. I feel soooo much better. Of course, I'm not going to lie to you--I don't really feel like myself. I feel like there is this invisible IV constantly dripping some serum into my nervous system that calms me down when I would otherwise be a bit out of sorts. It's like a foreign person takes charge of me a lot during the day, and I still can't decide whether it's a good thing or a bad thing. My kids seem to appreciate a less grumpy mom, and I am loving them a lot more too. But the one HUGE drawback to my "happy pills" as Tim so lovingly calls them is that I am always tired. Like if I didn't know my tubes were tied, I'd believe I was pregnant every single day. My body is constantly wiped out and in zombie-mode.
It has been a real struggle to manage my normal life with the addition of medication. But life hasn't really been normal so I've had to muster all my courage and energy to get through the past 45 days or so. Tim accepted a new job a couple of months back, and in preparation for the move, we put our house on the market about a week before I started taking medication. It was a really hard week; we'll just leave it at that. We finally have our house under contract now, and we'll be leaving Texas for Indiana at the end of December. I am so grateful to be done with showings and open houses; you cannot imagine what it was like to keep the house immaculate with 5 young kids running around. And although we are extremely aware of the great opportunity that awaits Tim at his new job, we cannot express how much our hearts ache as we prepare to move.
Texas, especially Van Alstyne, Texas, has grown on us. My kids wear boots with pride. The two older girls say y'all from time to time, and it no longer makes me cringe. I used to laugh when I'd drive through our "downtown" because it isn't really what I'd consider a downtown, but now I find it endearing. There's a gazebo next to City Hall, and every season a few older women decorate it for the appropriate holiday. I drove by the other day and saw them carefully wrapping garland around the posts, and my heart sank because those women embody all that this town is. There is so much pride here for the town. Every where you look, you'll see panther paws on buildings, in windows, on cars and on signs outside homes. No matter how old you are, everyone attends the football games. It is a treat.
So that's where I am. I am in this weird place that I have oddly been more than I ever thought I'd be. I'm preparing for another big change that will no doubt complicate my life but will eventually bring so much happiness to it too. I believe that, even though I am scared at the moment. I am comfortable here. I have people to serve. People serve me. I have great friends. I have my sacred places. I love my neighborhood and my particular corner of neighbors. I have Cami; life has been bright since she moved here, and I fear it will feel dim for some time when we're not together. Texas, even if I have always admitted it, has been good for me.