Out the kitchen window I see a fawn. Light brown, head turned back in my direction. She had crossed the black asphalt to reach a patch of flowers. I felt like a roommate who waits till everyone leaves the house before coming out. Grabbing a stick of cheddar cheese and a Braeburn apple. I felt like I was staying home sick from work. Jack and Fiona are at the Zoo with the babysitter, who is scheduled to work till 4. Only my dog is in the house. We took a walk yesterday after we dropped off Jack and Fiona to school. Normally we take a nice long city park hike around. We pass through a park and down the city streets. Yesterday, when we crossed the street and walked behind the little babies’ playground, my legs were killing me, especially my right. FUCK just blurted out of my mouth. I was so scared they would see me. At first, I walked low, trying to hide behind the shrub and fence, then thought, o-well if they did, my legs are killing me. Billy and I bypassed the parks, we did a short ten minute around the block. I just pet Billy while walking up the stairs earlier, before when I saw the deer outside and got my water, cheese, and apple, I felt the lump on her chest. All the lumps are getting bigger, she’s an old dog. I thought I didn’t feel guilty anymore about taking her for such a short walk yesterday, I felt like we are both getting old and she’s probably tired and achy just like me.
Category: billy
-
I walk up the damp, green moss, quiet, trail. Morning, dog by my side. I look at her and am glad today is walk day. My mind is calm at this moment. I see a black widow crawl away, I call her Ruby: mysterious, elegant legs, a large, sturdy frame, and a serious face. She makes her escape, down a hand spun creation, not present one second ago. I am in awe. My heart beats a little quicker as I head up the path, walking by menacing, bare poison oak vines that have been transformed into a palette of thick and thin lines, damp air between, sun shining through the cold, foggy, misty, November dawn. I feel like I am walking through another world, in my peripheral vision I see a meticulous web, so perfect I question ever making another thing when something already exists that surpasses all beauty and innovation that the world has ever or will ever display anywhere ever again. The otherworldness, the quiet places it takes my mind. I see one after another, just as special, just as intimidating. The quiet ground, damp with decay and new life. The Bay trees with their bright green trunks. Just me and Billy the whole walk. Like the perfect paint splatters on my studio wall. Or the painting Jack made last night that I want to frame and save forever. (Which really is not that long) Deep breath. I’ve been practicing my deep breaths. It’s been essential to keep myself from crossing my psychological health boundary; the one that keeps me here and not living with the spiders. From not imaging the creepy little walk they do down my neck, or having them enter my mind as I’m sound asleep, unable to defend myself. I take deep breaths.
-
I think to myself Alan and I should have a minute to eat our dinner, we had to get it to go from the Thai restaurant because Jack and Fiona refused, were UNABLE to, sit at and enjoy the experience. They cried, whined, stood up in their high chairs. There were moments they ate the sticky rice, seaweed salad, and fried sweet potato and Alan and I thought “maybe?” But no, those moments lasted seconds and they were in between moments that lasted minutes and were difficult for all and embarrassing for Alan. (he’s hasn’t witnessed alot of this craziness because he’s at work all day) As we start eating our dinner this time at home, I look out into the living room to check on Fiona and Jack. She’s spilling her bottle everywhere. I get really mad, “fuck” I say as I throw my utensil onto the kitchen floor. I’m not proud of my behavior, being that frusterated, experiencing rage like that. lately, I’ve been feeling that way more and more, exhausted from the constant “no” and “don’t do that” I don’t have the energy all the time to redirect in a positive way. Maybe if I just had one baby, but with two it’s really hard because for example, as I turned my back to clean up the milk Fiona had just spilt Jack started pouring his milk out. I know he’s not doing it on purpose to be bad, it’s a science experiment. I wish I could say “that’s so cool, the patterns you’ re making, the creativity, but I can’t. I have to say “no, that’s bad!” A thought crosses through my mind, maybe I should just say fuck it and let everything go to shit until they are old enough not to be messing everything up all the time! But no, I can’t live like that. A messy house makes me even more crazy!
This weekend we spent A lot of time together as a family. Alan also spent some extra alone time with the babies too so I could go to the gym Saturday morning. I appreciated that so much. Saturday was also Alan and my day together with a babysitter. We had a great day, we bought a beautiful painting from Heather Wilcoxon:
I couldn’t believe Alan bought it, he’s really begun to appreciate art! I think it’s so cool, and the fact he is supporting a local artist who I love made me feel warm inside. It also makes me believe he supports my career As an artist more than he would ever say, and that someday people will fall in love with my work and buy it! After that We went to the movies, saw The Martian in 3d, and then got Thai massages! (It was an expensive day!) My anxiety felt better and I thought maybe I haven’t been taking enough breaks. Relaxing enough, taking days off from painting. But there’s just no time for that on a regular basis. I have TOO much work to do, not including all the chores, laundry, shopping, cooking, but the drive from inside to paint and write that if not satisfied causes more anxiety and depression. Which is a place I can’t afford to go write now. It’s made me question trying the new anxiety medication my doctor recommended, but I’m really on the fence. I know all my feelings and emotions are normal, that I can live through this, but should I make it easier for myself? I’m just super sensitive, I internalize everything, I feel for everyone who suffers, even the bad guys. I’ve been like this from the begining.
Sunday Alan and I did Yoga together, the babies went to play center. Again I realized I haven’t been doing yoga enough. It felt great and was so fun to do with Alan. What if I try to take more breaks do more yoga, less painting, writing, and reading news articles? I could probably eliminate alot of angst I’m feeling. But would I fall into a deep depression from not expressing my creativity?
I woke up this morning , babies calling out “mama” I went straight in to get them, change their diapers. “Bottle bottle bottle” I have to listen to the crying and whining because I didn’t wake early enough to get the bottle ready. We come upstairs, toys still everywhere, I make bottles, waffles, and toast. I feel myself getting more and more stressed, all I want to do is go to my studio and paint. I have a home visit from Linda at 10:00 and a dentist appointment at 2:00. I feel like cancelling everything.
Linda’s visit went well, but she made fun of me the way in which I tell the babies “no”, we all started laughing! I was way too meek. But I have no energy, I’m tapped out. And I feel bad, I don’t want them sad, I don’t want them to cry. I don’t want Billy sad and barking and feeling like I’m not giving her enough attention too. I want my husband to feel wanted, know how much I love him, be able to give him my love and attention. But I feel like it’s impossible to do all of this, maybe I am breaking down, having an depressive episode. Bummer.
I love everyone so much and want to be my best self for my family and friends. I just feel so overwhelmed.
I think I may have three hours left until Lindsays off work. Time for a painting session. That always makes me feel better.Especially Working through anxiety. Depression is different, it may not be good. We will see.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 