A Treasure Trove of Trauma

So, I recently discovered that MySpace has FINALLY given people the ability to download their old blogs.  (Remember MySpace blogs?  Remember MySpace??)  My MySpace blog was the sole and absolute reason that I still have an active MySpace account . . . . I would sign into it annually just to make sure it was still there.  The blog was a landfill buried treasure of sorts, an almost daily chronicle of my life from about 2005 to 2009.  This time period was the most "evolutionary" period of my life . . . . or, in common terms, it was when my life shit hit the fan.  However, there were some really great gems of writing in there, so I couldn't wait to get my hands on the literally hundreds of posts.

I'm not sure that was the greatest idea.

Let me clarify . . . it was very interesting to read my own writing, and there were indeed some real gems in there.  But I'm a Cancer, and we Cancerians tend to have a problem with dwelling on the past and have a hard time letting go.  Because of that, I try to keep a "present moment" attitude (with varying degrees of success).  So to go back and read through those old blog posts was like Harry Potter falling into Dumbledore's pensieve into a stored memory, and I was THERE.  All the hurt from my career and relationship disappointments came rushing back.  Needless to say, I've been in a bit of a funk lately.

I recently returned from a conference for lawyers' assistance programs, and the presenter in one of the sessions talked about the root of harmful behaviors being our desire to suppress feelings related to Trauma (big T) and trauma (little t).  Without attempting to summarize the entire presentation, basically the thing that struck me was that "little t" traumas (things like living in uncertainty, constant verbal abuse and criticism, lack of emotional support, etc.) can create the negative emotions that we seek to avoid, just as much as the "big T" Traumas (physical abuse, loss of a family member, combat, etc.) can.  (And comparing people's Traumas and traumas is pretty pointless . . . knowing you went through something truly horrific does not lessen the emotional impacts of my traumas on me.)  In that very moment, as I sat with tears streaming down my face in a conference center room full of lawyers, I realized that the partying, excessive alcohol, and other, um, "questionable" decisions made during that time period were the result of me trying to cope with my trauma, not because I was a bad person.  I was a hurt person.  And I realized that some of my "friends" during that time were merely taking advantage of the circumstances resulting from that hurt.

The therapeutic process (which was the original motivation behind AID in the first place) often involves opening and re-examining old wounds so we can understand WHY.  It's like a broken bone that doesn't set and heal correctly . . . in order to fix it properly, you have to re-break it.  And it hurts.  But there was a reason I needed to go back and read and understand what happened, what went wrong, and why I did the harmful and hurtful things I did to both myself and others.  From that understanding, though, I should be able to actually heal, instead of just trying to forget.

Maybe this has been a good idea after all.

EBS Mid-Week Edition: Little Girl Lost

I was going through some old draft blog posts that didn't get posted for one reason or another.... didn't finish them, thought better not to post them, or the topics just didn't pan out the way I wanted. Some of these posts I'd imported from my original MySpace blog, and while I have posted a few (see Pre-Divorce) there are still a few collecting dust.

I came across this one that I wrote over 2 years ago, not too long after I'd separated and just 4 days before this happened..... yes, it was a bad time for me. But sadly, as I re-read this, for a second I thought it was something I'd written recently and forgotten about (yes, my memory is that bad) until I saw the words "my marriage". Swap out the word "marriage" for "relationship" (and a few other little tweaks) and I could have written this post 2 hours ago.

*le sigh*

I've been through so much, changed so much, experienced so much...... but it seems like everything is still just the same. Movement without progress. I'm trying to be patient and be like Santiago in The Alchemist and not let a seemly long term set back cause me to give up, but damn...... I just want to at least find the right road..... or hell, ANY road. The wilderness is getting cold and lonely.......

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(originally written July 11, 2007)

"Oooooh, heeeeey..... I'm trying to decide..... which way to go..... I think I made a wrong turn back there somewhere......." [Erykah Badu, Didn't Cha Know]

I don't read maps well.... even the Mapquest turn-by-turn directions must be consulted multiple times to make sure I'm understanding my next move just right. So it goes with my life as well..... I though I was going in the right direction, even when I had to make detours, but I'm looking around and I think I'm in the wrong place. I'm not quite sure if I'm in the wrong destination altogether and I didn't follow the directions EXACTLY as they were stated, or that this is the place my path lead to and it's not as glamorous and shiny as the brochure made it out to be. I suspect it's probably the latter.

Right now I am completely, totally, and utterly LOST. I don't know where I'm going with my career, I don't know where I'm going with my marriage, I don't know where I'm going with my identity, I don't know where I'm going with my living situation..... I'm just a little girl lost and bewildered. And I'm not even sure where to start making progress toward a path that I want to be on, or which path that even is. All I know is that HERE sucks, and HERE is not where I want to be. However, I've been off work almost 2 months now, and I'm no closer to sanity and sorting things out than I was back in May.

Another thing that makes me feel lost is the fact that my family, from what I hear, is pissed and disappointed in me, and I don't feel like they're being the safety net I need while I'm falling down. While most people turn to their moms when life is being mean, I feel like I can't because all that will happen is that SHE will start crying and telling me about how much her life sucks. While that's too bad, I really need someone to lean on and guide me..... I shouldn't be dishing out the advice as well. Hell, what the fuck do I know??

I know that I'm not purely a victim of circumstance.... I've put myself in some fucked up situations, so I'm not sitting here crying "Why me??" I also know that I have many opportunities and options at my fingertips, while many don't. But when I have TOO many choices, or one of those choices looks too foreign to what I'm used to, I get paralyzed and can't make a decision. But I feel like, for the most part, I've done the "right thing" that was supposed to lead me to success and happiness, and right now it's anything but such.

So.... now I gotta find out where I want to be and how I'm gonna get there, and I feel like I'm a LONG way away from wherever that is. I feel like there's a serious disconnect between my personality and interests and where I'm at in my career and marriage and everything else. My life is ill fitting right now. Gotta figure out where I belong.

"Oh dear!"

One of my favorite newly coined sayings when I'm feeling upset/frustrated/bitchy is "I feel like punching a kitten in the face" (because think about how horrible that is to punch a small, innocent, bewildered kitten whose head is about half the size of your fist dead in its little flat face.... you'd have to be feeling REALLY cantakerous and evil to do something like that). So imagine my utter delight when CareerBuilder.com depicted a very similar embodiment of that feeling in their Super Bowl ad this year.

Anyway, around the 33-36 second mark is how I'm feeling right about now:



I think I need some help. Too much in life is starting to get to me. More about some of those things later (maybe).

Demand More (Emotional Baggage Monday)

I'm just feeling so overwhelmed right now with so much on my mind that I can't even make myself sit down to write it all out. As it is, right now I'm lying in my bed on the crackberry, just trying to siphon off some of the excess so I can go to sleep (please excuse the typos and random unfocusedness of it all...this is real time, stream of consciousness, loved ones).

I tried to sit down and write about finally starting my new job, but it was flowing out like cold oatmeal...just kinda lumpy and sticky and gross (yes, words can be sticky). I will just say that Day 1 did NOT go well. I cried. In FRONT of my new boss. It was so bad that the managing partner called me Sunday afternoon to make sure I was coming back on Monday.

(Sidenote: Why am I like really irrationally pissed off right now? I don't like it.)

I felt like I'd been dropped head first into shark infested waters and realized that although I'd come from the big town pool, they'd only let me splash around in the shallow end. I was effing terrified. And when my boss pointed out to me that I looked shell shocked, I lost it. Dammitdammitdammit.

More details about that later (maybe). I've used the analogy before about feeling like a zoo raised animal when it comes to dating....well, its the same thing in my professional life. And I'm sad and hurt and angered about it. I've come to realize now more than ever truly how much of a token hire I was at my old job....there to "check the box" as my new boss says. They took my talents and squandered them, and took my self confidence in the process to make me feel just the way they treated me....like I was lucky that they gave me this mirage of an opportunity and that I there must have been something wrong with ME as to why, even though my credentials were much stronger, my peers were getting the better experiences and work. I was a cheeta on a treadmill...look how fast that cheeta trots!

So what does this have to do with adventures in divorce? Everything. The same way I felt about my old job is the same way I felt about my relationship. He made me feel stupid, and like I was lucky that he "stepped up" to do the bare minimum to meet my needs. Between my job and my Ex, I felt very small and marginalized....unworthy of being able to step up and ask for what I wanted, and what I needed.

(Ok, back from taking out the stupid dog. *snuggles back into nice comfy bed*)

But now things, they are a-changing. I'm starting to fully appreciate that yes, I deserve more, and yes, I'm justified in expecting more. But old habit die hard, and change for the better is still change. And change is hard. On the surface I do believe what people keep telling me....that I've got "It". But deep down at the core, when I'm lying alone in the dark, coming down off my slight tipsiness from the 2 beers I had with my boss in the office, I don't feel like that. I feel overwhelmed. And scared. Scared that I won't live up to the hype....even though I know it's not hype because all this is earned the hard way.

I'll just be glad when I can shed some of this self-doubt and fear and anxiety and truly be able to embrace myself and all I have to offer to the world. And to myself. Over the past year and a half I asked God to put me where I am supposed to be. Now it's my job to take that and make the most of it.

Namaste, loved ones. Goodnight.

Emotional Baggage Sundays - "Choices"

Once again, it's Sunday. *sigh* Time to haul out the baggage........


If i can't do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don't want
to do

It's not the same thing
but it's the best i can
do

If i can't have
what i want . . . then
my job is to want
what i've got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more to want

Since i can't go
where i need
to go . . . then i must . . . go
where the signs point
through always understanding
parallel movement
isn't lateral

When i can't express
what i really feel
i practice feeling
what i can express
and none of it is equal

I know
but that's why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry

~CHOICES by Nikki Giovanni

Pride Swallowing

"Might as well do something while you're doing nothin'." ~ Uncle Rico, "Napoleon Dynamite"

Eight months ago, I quit my job. My 6-figure job. My "every law student dreams about this job" job. My "office on the 34th floor" job. I had to get out of there because between it and the divorce it was just too much to handle. I'd count myself as an extremely strong woman (I had a baby at 15 and 20 y'all, and STILL graduated with honors from every single educational institution that I ever attended from high school on up, and not just dean's list, but the baddest bitch on the block.... top business grad, top marketing grad, top distribution grad, top African American grad in the ENTIRE UNIVERSITY), but even a woman like me has her limits. It was literally killing me, mind, body and spirit. And I left it for..........? Answer: nothing. Scratch that..... it wasn't for nothing, it was for peace of mind and freedom, which, unfortunately, don't pay the bills. But severance does (and yes, I DID leave voluntarily..... severance isn't just for when they give you the boot. Not in law firms anyway. They do whatever the fuck they want, and I just happened to have a good partner in my corner to advocate for me), but severance doesn't last forever. And pretty much for the past 8 months I've been sitting on my ass at home, doing contract work here and there (which pays DAMN good in theory, but they slow pay like a muthafucker) and hustling legal work (ok, so I started my own practice...... kind of...... ok for real..... I need to treat it like the legitimate business that it is), but here lately when I was faced with a serious cash flow crisis, I realized that I could be doing much more....... as Uncle Rico says, I could be doing something while I'm doing nothing.

So tomorrow morning, I start a new job. *sigh* It took a whole lot of soul searching and pride swallowing, but I took a job with a temp agency that staffs for admin positions. Me, with my $100K+ education, honors dual major bachelors business degree, honors jurisprudence doctorate, worked at the largest firm in the city...... working as a fucking secretary doing data entry. *big ole long sigh* My reasoning behind taking an admin temp job over a legal temp job is that I figured that if I'm going to do work that doesn't advance my career, it might as well be simple and mindless not too stressful. But it still sucks lemur nuts knowing that I'm taking such a HUGE step back and only utilizing only about 5% of my potential. But hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.

And honestly, a huge part of taking such a postion is because I'm less likely to run into anyone from my former/regular/rightful life. I know that over the years I've been the target of much hateration..... I dealt with it in law school, particularly from other African-American law students, for doing so well academically. This continued on when I got the Big Firm Job that is highly coveted, but also the target of a whole lot of sour grapes (i.e. "I never wanted to work for them ANYWAY because of XY & Z" when people really had no idea what the job was like). Add to that the fact that folk thought I had such a great marriage (pshaw!), and you had the recipe for a full Haterade Punch complete with fresh fruit slices and spiked with Everclear. So I know there are MANY people out there who would LOVE to know that I am currently down on my luck and forced to take a job that I'm WAY overqualified for. Nevermind that I am simultaneously doing work on the side that pays me 10 times per hour what the temp agency pays..... all they'll see is someone who is formerly on top who is not on the top anymore. I'm sure some folk are reading this right now happy as shit about the unfortunate turn my life has taken (and my respose is "fuck off".... I still got the upper hand). But you know, I'm still (somewhat) positive about it..... this whole experience has taught me to not take my paycheck for granted, to be resourceful, and that life is about more than just money and perceived status, and to be grateful for my abilities that I do have. And most importantly that sometimes, swallowing pride is a must at times. I know this stage in my life is temporary...... I think of this past year as a whole as a rebuilding phase, my personal Forrest Fire. Forrest fires are necessary from time to time to clear out all the underbrush so that new life can spring forth stronger and better than before.

However, with that said, I'm off to the bar up the hill to have a beer and a few cloves by my damn self. I'll probably cry in said beer, too. Fuck.

Emotional Baggage Sundays, Part Deux

It seems like every Sunday (or at least every other Sunday) after a long weekend filled with good friends, good music, and yes, good drinks, I find myself sitting alone feeling melancholy about a number of things that I end up brooding over all afternoon, and then I end up posting some arcane bit of poetry or song lyrics or PostSecret postcard. So what's bothering me today? Might as well get it out:

1. Oddly enough (or not so oddly, considering how I create my iTunes playlists) this song that is currently playing as I write this pretty much sums up what's been on my mind most of the day: The One That Got Away by Pink. It's one of those weird issues because it's not something that's an active part of my life, but more like background static...... it's really one of those situations where I've accepted reality and let go. For the most part anyway. Its also something hard to explain (or not explain and just avoid) to someone you're dating that yes, there was a person in your life that was very important, and they're not anymore, and that makes you sad sometimes, but that honestly it is a non-issue because the odds of that relationship working out are less than nil. It's not taking anything away from the person currently in your life, but it's just reality. It happens. Everyone has that one that got away, but they move on. Right? I hope so.

2. I was throwing away junk mail and came across a mailer for a seminar on LLCs, LLPs, etc. I look at the names of the panelists and see (a) the moderator is the senior associate who made my life HELL the first year I started working at The Firm, gave me the shittiest assignments and the leftover bullshit, and was generally condescending and treated me like I didn't graduate from law school cum laude, and then (b) one of the panelists is a guy who started at The Firm the same time I did, and I remembered how they used to talk about how shitty of a writer he was when we first started, but they liked him and took him under their wings and gave him the good work and MENTORED him..... meanwhile I'm there given the shitty leftovers, the "simple quick little projects" that amounted to a bunch of bullshit. I literally started crying. Looking at my resume, you'd think that I would have been their fucking superstar. I feel like a failure sometimes because I feel like I should be at a much different place in my career, and it all comes down to the opportunities those fuckers didn't let me have at The Firm. And it was because they underestimated me, treated me like I was stupid, wouldn't give me the work so I could get the experience. It's the story of every black associate's life at The Firm.... we all tell the same tale. And that just made me angry all over again today, and made me question what the hell I'm doing in the legal profession in the first place.

(this playlist has got to go..... it's making me way too sad. "My Drive Thru".... that's a better song)

3. The fact that I still allow The Ex's words to get to me, gets to me. Yesterday the discussion involved him telling me that I need to quit "giving it away for free" and find some guy that can help me out financially right now. WTF?? I had to remind him that he doesn't have shit to offer to the woman he's dating that's almost, but not quite, old enough to be his momma, and that he needs to give her that same speech because if his theory holds true, her old ass should know better. Let me backtrack.... he doesn't have shit to offer her but companionship, which is all I'm looking for out of a guy, too. He's such an illogical fucktard, and it makes me mad that I can't just ignore that shyt and not let it, admittedly, hurt me. The insults he hurls at me are just really unnecessary. I hate being undercover sensitive sometimes.

4. Seems like nobody has any time for me. Yesterday I went to the movies alone (and saw the worst movie ever...... The Love Guru..... if I'd paid more than $1.25 for that shyt I'd still be mad right now), then ate dinner alone, then took myself to Front Page alone (but I always see people there I know and like), and then took myself home, again, alone. And this isn't anyone's fault, people have lives and are busy and whatnot. But damn.... next person who says that I probably have guys trying to get with me all the time is gonna get punched in the face, because NOBODY had any time for me this weekend. Well except for Roomie.... we had a good time hanging out Friday. Other than that, seems like everyone is too busy.

(dammittoallhell what is up with all my damn playlists pissing all over my emotions?? The current culprit: You Know What by N*E*R*D)

5. Being broke. Nuff said. Thanks to my girl and the random drunk white guy at Front Page last night for getting my Grateful Deads..... otherwise I would have been sitting there stone sober watching The Best of Soul Train on the bar TVs, which would have been a lot less fun because they were on some serious '80s ish last night. Comedy.

6. All those other things that I just can't talk about for one reason or another. But trust me, those are the ones bothering me the most.

A fit of parapraxis

give me a minute to love you
an hour to stare in your face
a moment to praise your nose
your hands, your lips, your eyes
don't say later
don't say tomorrow
because the day's too busy
because the day's too hurried
too demanding

give me a week to hold you
a second to play in your lashes
a night to kiss your forehead
Your back, your feet, your fingers
Don't say you're tired
Don't say you're anxious
because the world is calling
because the world is heavy
Ever present

just let me soothe you
let me put you in my mouth and hum sweet tunes
let me calm that ocean

give me a day
give me four and more
to ease and please you
let me take that chip from your shoulder
place it on the nightstand for a while
because you're lonely
and
I am too

~Jill Scott, "Selfish", The Moments, the Minutes, the Hours: The Poetry of Jill Scott

Mental relapse

Today is one of those not so good bad days. One of those "Summer of 2007" days. Days when I wonder what the hell am I doing with/to/about myself days. Scared, lonely, sad, depressed, desperate days. People often ask me why I "put all my business out" in my blogs..... it's really because sometimes (like today) I just feel like I have nobody to talk to. For a brief second as I was standing in my kitchen crying I just wanted my mother.... but then I remembered that the usual outcome of my heart-to-heart, "I need help mom" converstions just ends up with either her yelling at me, her telling me how much more her life sucks, or her telling me what I need to "make" someone else do (usually The Ex). The only 2 people who I feel like I could go to and curl up in their beds and cry and they would make me some food and give me some wine live 595 and 3,760 miles away, and with the price of gas and the fact that my car won't travel across the ocean makes it kind of hard to do that. And they are only able to act as my sounding boards because we're all the same age and neither of them has gone through anything remotely similar.

The Ex called me talking about how our 14 year old son got into a fight yesterday and is full of pent up anger because of ME..... all my fault because I'm allegedly a shitty mother. He said he told him that he wished I were a "normal mom" and that he feels like I'm pushing him away. I just don't know what to do. I am me, and that's all I can be. I'm 30 years old.... I'm not going to be like the mothers who are typically of the age to have 14 year olds (usually 10 years older than me). But the thing is, I don't know how much of this is fact and how much of it is embellishment on The Ex's part. I don't understand where these things stemmed from, considering the fact that my kids have been away from me all summer with their dad. How can I be a neglectful mother when I haven't even had the opportunity to be around? I remember being 14 though, and thinking that my dad was just the biggest asshole in the world, all based on the things my mother would say about him, how she would treat him, how she would act around him. The Ex says he "never" talks about me around the kids. Yea. Right. He used to do that stuff all the time back when we were separated and would go to my parents' house when the kids would there and wouldn't even try to keep his conversation between him and my mother or father. And I know that parents can never do anything right in the eyes of their teenagers..... but still this hurts me. Badly. And I'm just at a loss for what to do.

The Ex tells me he's probably getting married in the next 6 months. Figures. But my fear is that my kids won't want to be around me anymore. They have a steady, ready made family over there. I have nothing..... no in-house father figure for them, no extended family with extra siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles. It's just me. And I'm worried that me is not good enough. I'll admit that I'm not the most kid-friendly person in the world, and I don't know why that is. I sometimes wonder if something is wrong with me, if I'm missing some crucial gene somewhere. I've tried the best I know how..... I've been making this shyt up as I go along since I was 15 years old. It just seems like everything is falling apart and I don't know what to do to fix it.

Times like this I wonder to myself whether I should just take The Ex up on his offer and let the kids live with him. But then I fear that my kids will resent me for "getting rid of them" and they'll perceive it as me pushing them off on another woman to raise, and that The Ex will paint the picture to them that I just didn't want them because I just want to "party" (that has been the slander of the year about me). I know this scenario happens in reverse all the time.... usually the kids go with mom, mom will often remarry, and they live in a step-family unit with her. But it's just different with mothers for some reason. I guess. I really fear that they won't want me anymore, but I'm just so concerned about their happiness that I want to do what's right for them, no matter how much it hurts me.

Then there's that other issue..... the one I'm not allowed to talk about but that is just ever present and looming. I try to get away and put it behind me, but it always seems to pop up and remind me how much fate just sucks leumr nuts sometimes. I try and be stoic and put up a good front, but that only works for a little while. And when I'm alone, I still cry. It only seems like I'm keeping busy and occupying my time elsewhere, because that's what I need to try and believe. But days like today, where I'm sliding down the backside of dispair, I catch myself in that lie. Tisk, tisk, lady.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm broke as FUCK?? And I have no job, no prospects, nothing?? Ok, so yes I do have a "job". I do work that (allegedly) pays me money, though I've yet to be paid for work dating back to APRIL. I'm trying to do this solo practice thing, but this is not by choice.... it's by necessity because right now I HAVE no other choice. I feel the financial noose tightening around my neck and am waiting on this damn check to come cut me down. Hell, not even cut me down, just to give me a little more slack on the rope. I feel like I'm just hustling right now, not making a living. And it's scary. And it sucks. Maybe I'll just go get a job at Target.

I pray things get better, that I feel better, that I cope better. Because right now........ *long sigh*

Extraordinarily Human

(originally posted Saturday, December 30, 2006)

"Illnesses of mood distort and magnify what is human; they do not destroy it." -- Elliot Pearlman, Seven Types of Ambiguity

My friends who know me well are aware that I've had almost a lifelong struggle with clinical depression. I don't broadcast it to the general public, but it's not a state secret, either. Part of the reason for that is because I believe that there needs to be more awareness of mental health issues such as these, and that depression should not be stigmatized as a weakness of character, but rather a health condition just like diabetes or high blood pressure.... something that merely must be dealt with and treated, not ignored and swept under the rug. Because trying to be "strong" and pretending that nothing is wrong has consequences not only to the individual dealing with the issue, but everyone else around them.

Nature and Nurture are very powerful influences, but the combination creates ironclad habits and behaviors that are damn near impossible to break. The reason that I can firmly say that my depression is clinical is because damn near all my family members deal with it-- mom, grandma, siblings, uncle.... we all deal with it to some degree. But because people don't acknowldege that this is not normal, not healthy, it is the sort of thing that becomes normal, so that all the behaviors and symptoms just become what is taught to the next generation. I attribute most of my social anxiety to my mom (yea, it's always mom's fault.... I'm bracing myself for that). I can only think of one friend that my mom had over the years, and that was our next door neighbor that moved away when I was 6. Nobody ever came over to our house to visit; mom never had shopping outings with girlfriends. I never learned how to interact with people. So take that compounded with the chemical anxiety and depression, and you've got the recipe for one messed up chica. I now have to fight through those feelings of wanting to retreat and run away.... but I don't know how so I have to make it up as I go along. But [The Ex] is always telling me about some social faux pas that I've committed that tends to come off as rude and aloof, and I honestly am not trying to be such.

Sometimes I feel angry and frustrated and defeated..... tired of being "not normal" and just wanting to be comfortable in my skin and around others and not be the social freak that I feel like most of the time. I know a small level of social anxiety is normal (oddly, though, I don't have that much problem with public speaking.... I smashed that fear long ago), but, like the quote above, I feel that this has been maginfied in me. And it's big and heavy. And sometimes I just get tired.

**********

FOLLOW UP COMMENTARY:

At the time I wrote that post, I had resigned myself to accept the fact that my depression was 95% chemical and that life factors were not playing that great of a role. After all, I had the "perfect" life...... marriage to a man who was crazy about me, 2 gorgeous well behaved kids, the "dream job" that every lawyer (who didn't know any better) wanted, a house, a dog, and all those other things that were outward signs of success. What did I have to be depressed about? Yet I was sad, anxious, depressed, and medicated to the hilt just so I could function.

Recently, however, and thankfully due to circumstances beyond my control (or else I wouldn't have done it otherwise), I've had to stop taking my "meds". I saw this coming so I gradually stepped down my dosages (PSA Note: Never EVER stop antidepressants cold turkey. That is a dangerous no no. And really it should be supervised by a doctor) and I discovered that, huh, I'm ok. Better than ok. For the first time in a LONG time, I feel like me. My silly nature has returned, I'm able write more, I'm able to interact with people easier and life just feels BETTER. I was conversing with The Ex the other day and he was expressing how he was worried about me with regards to this issue, and I had to cut him off and let him know that no, I don't need those meds anymore. *Pause* Him: "Oh, so you get rid of me and you're not depressed anymore?" Me: "Basically." He then made a snide comment about how a male friend of mine(who he assumes is my boo) just must be making me that happy, and I had to correct him with a quickness.

No, my joy and contentment comes from within. I realized long ago that the only person responsible for my happiness is ME, and that happiness is a factor of perception and attitude. I am not an overly religious person, but the Serenity Prayer is one that I take to heart. I decided to make some changes in my life--some extremely difficult, scary changes--and it seems to have served me well. I can't help but notice that since I left two situations that caused me great amounts of internal turmoil-- my job and my marriage-- I've been able to find so much more peace and joy, even amongst situations that have been FAR from the "pefection" that I supposedly had at the time I originally wrote that post. I think that's more than just coincidence.

The S Word

My 30th birthday was just this past Wednesday. A lot of 29 year olds dread the coming of their 30th, but I was jubilant, buoyant, on cloud 9. Even though I felt like microwaved death half the day because my Neighbors insisted on taking me out to celebrate Tuesday night, I just couldn't stop smiling. Even when I went to my son's CLD graduation program and had to see my daughter sitting with her new "family", I still felt amazing as I walked sauntered across that stage in my stiletto sandals to get my parent participant certificate (all the parents who participated in the program had to sit together, otherwise you best BELIEVE my Mini-Me would've been right beside me..... my son was on the stage because he was speaking *insert proud tingly mommy grin here*). I think my happiness is not so much about the milestone of 30 itself, but rather everything I've come through to get here, particularly in the past year.

At this point a year ago, I was living at my parents' house with my two kids all crammed into a single bedroom with them sleeping on a futon and I on a twin mattress on the floor (don't ask me why we were all in 1 room..... my parents' have a 4 bedroom house with a basement...... maybe they just wanted to be close to me). My Ex was still in our house because I was the one who decided to separate, even though he still begged and begged me to come home, and the kids wanted to be with me (I didn't ask or force them to come). I'd also taken a leave of absence from my job and was trying to figure out what to do next about that. Basically all I did was sleep..... all I could do was sleep. Then on the 15th of July, I hit terribly rock bottom........

I don't even know if I can talk about this..... but here it goes:

The Ex and I were supposed to be going to a movie at the State Museum that evening, but we went to have a few beers beforehand. He lured me into an "open and honest" discussion, which I went along with...... Big. Mistake. We never made it to the movie, but instead I was verbally beat down and berated all the way home to the point where I was delerious from the sobbing and wished he would just let me out right there on the freeway. Calling me every name in the book, telling me I was pathetic..... I can't even remember it all, but I just remember how it FELT. And it felt awful because part of me actually believed it. I did feel like a terribly awful, selfish person who was lost and confused. The harder I cried, the worse his insults got. When I dropped him off at his car, the last thing he said to me was "Why don't you just go home and kill yourself?" and gave me one of his awful gloating laughs. And so I went home and did just that.

Ok, so obviously I did not die. I'm still very much here amongst the land of the living. I woke up in the hospital the next day feeling God awful. I had a bunch of texts and calls from friends worried sick about me (even though the first call I woke up to was from the person who probably--and justifiably-- hates me most in this world, because The Ex was so kind enough to call and leave a message about the wonderful news of my impending death BEFORE he bothered calling the paramedics. Loverly. I'm sure she was sorely disappointed to hear my very much alive voice......) and my parents were there, and The Ex was there and I just wanted to scream at him to get the fuck out. I ended up having to stay in an in-patient treatment hospital for a week, which was probably the worst week of my entire life. Rock bottom, loved ones..... hard, cold, unforgiving rock bottom.

I'm sure 99.9% of people wouldn't have the cajones to talk about this. But this is REAL. Suicide is very real and very, very serious, and not something to be pushed to the corner and swept under the rug (Attorneys have the highest rate of depression and suicide of any profession, so it's not just me here). I felt so low that not only did I no longer value my own life, but I felt that my children would be better off without me in their lives (and not only that, I did that ish on a payday AND it was the first check where my raise kicked in.... who does that??). That is a terrible, dark place to be, and I wouldn't wish that on my mortal enemies. But I can't talk about my Adventures in Divorce without addressing this life-altering event. I'm a true believer that everything, good and bad, happens for a reason. In my emotional recovery process over the following 6 weeks, I became a new person, a stronger person, a more resiliant person. “Sometimes God calms the storm, sometimes He calms the sailor.” My personal storm was nowhere near over, but I can say this experience helped me weather the storm a helluva lot better, and has made me a much calmer person (it takes a whole helluva lot to phase me now). And it has allowed me to appreciate just how far I've come in the past year, and be thankful that I made it to 30.

*And now, my PSA: Suicide is a permenant solution to a temporary problem. PLEASE keep that in mind, no matter how terribly awfully bad life seems. It is never true that your friends and loved ones will be better off without you. If you find yourself having those thoughts, call someone..... anyone. And get help. There's no shame in getting help for depression, just as there's no shame in going to see a cardiologist for your heart or an oncologist for cancer. Please don't go through what I went through. It is never that bad.