January was tough. With Snowpoclypse 2017 I heard myself utter the words "I want to move back to California." That was a first after our almost 12 years here in Idaho. But January also brought new life to routine and I've found myself so, so happy. I got my job back at The Rib Shack and work very part time with some pretty fantastic people (you know who you are), I actually look forward to going. I have two classes on campus. So some days I work, on the other days I go to school. I love the conversation in my philosophy class -World Religions. It is spectacular to be free from any set beliefs and be able to explore so many new ideas. At this point I identify as agnostic- I am withholding judgement about all things religious. I guess you could say it's trendy but chakras and meditation, vibrations and perhaps crystals are becoming my vehicles to enlightenment.
My second class is a general requirement for almost all students to graduate- Health and Wellness. We have started a month long Behavior Change Project and after much thought I decided to work on embracing my role as mom and wife. I decided to devote one hour a day to mindfully serving a member of my family. The six days (Mon-Sat) would each be reserved for a different one of them and Sunday, if I was successful all six days, I would reward myself with two hours alone, away from home. The first week (last week went fairly well although not perfect.) I was more attentive, a smidge more patient, went out of my way for others, felt more love toward them, I even felt moments of bonding. Actually, the pressure to do something to make someone feel special every day is heavy. I know it sounds terrible but it is exhausting to be nice when it doesn't feel natural. That's ultimately why I didn't complete my goal last week. Troy was observing me and was able to tell each day who my target was and by Friday realized my day for me to show him some extra attention would be Saturday. That made me feel resistant. Now that he knew it was his turn he'd be expecting me to do something out of the ordinary. Most of the time I feel I'm barely surviving. Now I have to go above and beyond- it might kill me. And he knows I'm grading myself, the kids didn't know exactly which day would be theirs and honestly they probably didn't notice because I counted my attendance at a concert, listening to the teenager's music in the car and watching a movie with them as my some of my service hours. Perhaps it doesn't seem like much but, when all you want to do is retreat to your bedroom and insulate yourself from the noise, the questions, the needs, and the voices my presence is sometimes all I can offer. And I tried to do it cheerfully. It became easier as the week went on and I noticed myself giving more help and attention to all of them not just the one intended for the day. By week's end I felt a little better about myself as a mother and my self talk leaned toward positive.
Then I was approached to audition for a show. It was flattering. Perhaps I shouldn't have taken it so personally. I know she was inviting a whole company of women but this made me feel special. She sent me the script accompanied by a particularly complimentary email. And I thought about it. I worried over it. I imagined life with a 5 day a week rehearsal schedule. Is that what I really wanted? Life seems so perfectly balanced. I never feel stressed but I'm just busy enough. I had time to shovel the snow that fell last week. I'm home to take Ashton to gymnastics, I don't work nights or Saturdays, Troy and I get to date regularly, I can help Kylie with math homework, I'm improving my improv and helping with Lion King Jr. props. I love how I feel with things the way they are. I have to keep reevaluating to make sure they remain so. I'm in control yet flexible. I feel on top of the world. Life is essentially bliss.
Last night as I drove to the theater, tears rolled down my cheeks. I savored each one as they seemed to come individually and only from my right eye- odd. I was once again mourning the life I could have had. The feelings envelope me and I go quickly down a spiral of sadness. The running monologue sounds something like this "If only I wasn't a mom. I would be able to do that show and that show and meet so-and-so for happy hour, and work more. I could have a life. My head wouldn't be so polluted by all the things I have to do and worry about for my family. I'm a terrible person. Why am I so selfish? Why does this feel like torture. I hate family life. Who says family life should be THE goal? It isn't for everybody. But I never thought there was anything more important. I was taught it was my "divine nature" to be a wife and mother. But did I ever ask myself? Didn't I try to call off the wedding twice? I fucking hate the church. If I hadn't have been Mormon I wouldn't have gotten married so young, had so many kids. I wouldn't be trapped. I could breathe." The tears continued to fall and then I wondered, "What is wrong with me? I have a wonderful life. Troy and the kids are awesome. People crave becoming a parent. Why don't I have more maternal instincts? Why don't I want to be a mom and wife? Surly I can't be the only one. There must be others. When I die, I'll be free. Maybe I should try to get in an accident. Then I'll be able to fly. I won't be responsible for anyone else." When I got to the theater, I took a moment before heading in. My visor mirror had reported I looked fine but when I started to talk my voice was, probably only noticeable to me, hoarse. I felt everyone look at me as I spoke and I wondered if they wondered why I had been crying.
On the way home I felt slightly better but why must I always feel so intense? Why so happy and content or so upset and hopeless? How can a person be so up and down, so contradictory all the time? I blamed mental illness. Should probably start taking my pills again. And then I started my period and it all made sense.
