Five Months and Sabbatical

I met with my therapist in early August. Prior to mid-July, I hadn't seen her since the Thursday after Mark passed away. At that point, I was just breathing this huge sigh of relief that the limbo I had been in for the past five years of dealing with FTD was over, and that Mark was with Jesus, and that all these things I had feared, I had faced head on and survived. I was in a really good place, honestly. We had survived.

However, summer hit, and my whole world turned upside down. Soccer started in late May, and I wasn't even hardly home long enough to actually DO any laundry for almost 2 months. When I WAS home long enough to do laundry and catch up on dishes, or pick up all the McDonald's or Subway or A&W or Hardee's wrappers and drinks from around the living room, it's all I did. Work was more intense, and I was so exhausted that I kept sleeping past my 5am alarm, starting each day off on a rough note, with no coffee, no time with Jesus, no checking my calendar, heading right into the fire, then running out as fast as I could at the end of the day to squeeze in that one load of laundry so the boys could have a pair of black shorts for their next soccer game, and more pairs of those super tight soccer socks for practices (seriously - WHY are they so tight?!). Trying to find sitters to keep the little two while I went to away games up to an hour away and then getting home at 9pm and trying to get the kids to bed by 10:30 or 11pm to wake up at 5am (or, lets' be real, 5:45am) to get the chaos rolling all over again. I was averaging about 4-5 hours of broken sleep a night. Kinsley became WAY more clingy, and honestly - we were all just DONE.

But then...July hit.

The 4th of July weekend was the first weekend that hit where we had nothing planned beyond Beach Bash the evening of the 3rd, so I opted to do another one of those cleanses for Kendrick (yep, still dealing with that issue), which meant that beyond that one evening, we were parking our butts at home for the most part. Fortunately, we didn't make any additional plans, as I came down with tonsilitis, which explained my sheer exhaustion earlier that weekend. But truthfully, a weekend full of naps and far too much screentime was kinda just what we needed. We saw fireworks both the 3rd and 4th, but otherwise, we just napped a lot. We rested. We were all really okay with just laying in bed and watching movies and YouTube videos of 1-2-3 GO to learn how to sneak snacks into places you aren't supposed to sneak snacks into (don't ask - it's weird lol...although the heels with skittles all over them were actually kinda cute).

It was then that I began to realize that I simply couldn't keep doing my life without this. I realized that I was GRATEFUL to be able to have the time off work without taking vacation time to let my son take the time at home he needed to do this cleanse, and that I was able to take the time without taking vacation or sick time from work to actually...be sick without feeling guilty about it.

I rested so much that weekend (again, the tonsilitis helped facilitate that a bit) that I began craving it even moreso than I did in my last update. But then, even after a full FIVE DAYS of cleanse for Kendrick, he STILL wasn't all the way done with it, and it was then that I realized that I can't keep going. I can't do it anymore. I need to be able to be there for my kids and not drag this kind of crap (literally) out any longer. I can't wait for another 5 day weekend to do another cleanse, and in effect, make all of us sit around waiting for Kendrick to...you know. I can't be under so much stress that I'm getting sick, and then spending my weekends sick so that I can expend all my mental, emtional and physical energy at work to come home and be a shell of myself when I got home.

My kids have been getting the exhausted, crabby, snappy version of me that they didn't deserve: The leftovers. We'd all basically come home FAR beyond spent and lash out at each other. Every single moment I was home, I was after them for one thing or another, because for the first time that whole day, we all had a chance to just...let our emotions out.

I also realized that our diet had been RIDICULOUS. I didn't have time to plan, and when I did, the kids would end up eating it before I needed it (i.e. baggies of veggies, chips, fruit, cheese and meat, etc) and I'd still come up short when we were in need of snacks for soccer, so we had been eating out something like 4 times a week. I realized that my kids were devouring snacks and screen time like it was their job when I was around. I realized that my kids, after losing their Dad (and by proxy, the Mom they knew and deserved) these past 5 years to FTD, my kids deserved to have their Mom, and to have her fully, because I am all they have right now.

They don't deserve a worn out, beaten down Mom, and our life has been a whirlwind with no chance to come up to breathe. We were drowning, and we have been for a LONG time. Getting that taste of rest made me realize that I can't keep going on like this; something had to give. So I did a lot of soul searching and realized that since it couldn't be my kids, and it couldn't be my home, and it couldn't be me, and it can't be my spiritual life, the thing that had to give was my job. I mean, when you have someone coming in to clean your home for 3 hours a week and you STILL can't keep it together, it's time. When the level of stress I've been dealing with for all these years is beginning to have physical affects, it's time.

I've seen this meme posted so many times by dear friends in my FTD support circles, and the first time I saw it, I sobbed for a substantial amount of time. It's true. It's really true.

Fortunately, as Mark had prepared well for us all, his forward planning has afforded me some substantial time for a sabbatical to regroup, rest, and sort of re-learn how to be a whole person again instead of this partial zombie like frustrated, angry, wounded shell of a person who I've become. I'm tired of just getting by. I'm tired of just surviving. I'm tired of forgetting everything if it isn't in my calendar (and even sometimes when it is). I'm tired of hanging out on the cusp of depression, and I'm tired of feeling anxious because I have so much weight on my shoulders. I want to pay that ridiculous $7.29 bill that keeps getting on the cusp of collections because I can't keep things organized enough at home to find the envelopes, stamps, check book and pen all at the same time to write out a check and put it in the mail.

I'm just....exhausted.

I want to re-learn how to plan meals (and make them properly without constantly burning something or forgetting an ingredient) that aren't spaghetti, goulash, sloppy joes, pizza or fast food. I want to learn how to NOT ruin a roast or chicken breast or steak because I start it, but then remember I've got to switch the laundry or Kendrick won't have any more underware for the next day or I remember that I've got to put distilled water on my grocery list or schedule that doctor's appointment and the office closes in 8 minutes, and then it's burnt or overcooked. I want to try new recipes, and I want to learn to truly enjoy food again. Because as it stands, I'm so overdone with life at this point that it doesn't even taste that good most of the time anymore.

I want to tackle my physical health head on and drop the weight I've held on to due to extreme stress and PTSD from all that happened the past 5 years. (I'm coming for you, Tauyna...but please be kind! lol) I want and need to be here for my kids, because I'm all they have. I want to be there for their classroom parties and holiday parties and not feel like I have to leave them at daycare for 10 hours a day because I spend the entire day wearing myself out mentally at work and need the break, so I still desperately need that last 90 minutes to actually breathe for the first time that day and squeeze in a quick workout and fuel my body before delving into the chaotic evenings where I'm frustrated and weary and tired and snapping at them if they don't listen to what I ask them to do immediately.

They didn't do anything wrong. They don't deserve to bear that kind of frustration on a daily basis. And they don't deserve to have a Mom who can't even sit down in the evening and just snuggle or do a puzzle or read a book or go for a walk with them because she's that dang busy in all the areas.

And it's worth noting that I did nothing to deserve to BE that Mom, which then struggles with the guilt of being physically and emotionally incapable of parenting the way I want to, and having no backup when I DO have the physical and emotional wherewithall to follow through.

So, on September 2nd, 2021, I will officially be done working for the forseeable future.

One day I'll jump back in, but for now, I just need a significant break. And when I DO get back into the working world? I'll find a flexible remote job (easily attainable in my area of expertise and my skillset) so I can still be home and forego the need for daycare during the school year. So I can see my kids on the bus or drop them at school in the morning, and then be home when they get off the bus in the afternoon. So I can serve them breakfast in the morning with a smile instead of rushing everyone out the door by 6:45am and not seeing them again until 5pm.

I've gotten a significant amount of blowback about my decision, which has been hurtful, but to be honest, I don't even care. For those who haven't been supportive, that's on them, not me. I've also gotten a lot of comments along the lines of "must be nice" or "what a luxury", and to those people, I say this:

I would readily trade lives over the past 5 years so you can go through what I went through to get to this point. GLADLY. I'd hand over my trauma at any given moment to have not had to experience it. Just because I have survived does not make it easier. In fact, the futher I get out from Mark's passing, which signifies the end of FTD limbo, the more I find I need the rest.

A lot of people continue to remind me how strong I am. How amazing I am. How incredible I am. The truth is, the only reason I've been able to hang in there is because of the strength of my God coupled with knowing that there was an expiration date on this phase of life.

I'm ready to rebuild a life that I'm not just surviving anymore, or in our thriving, to feel like I'm just barely eeeking by. I feel like until this point, I've just been bandaging it all together firmly, but it's time to knock it all down again and build from the groud up.

This new life involves not only a restructuring of our day to day life, but also a relocation, which we're all really excited about! It also involves more privacy and anonymity, which the kids and I long for. I'm ready to, once again, begin documenting our life quietly and slip back into the space I operate best: Privately.

I am more than thankful for all your support over these past handful of years: Your encouragement helped me through some of the darkest days of my life thus far. For now, though - it's just time to live again. Mark and our journey with FTD will always be a defining time in our life: Our lives will always be separated as "Mark" and "No Mark". Pre-FTD and Post-FTD. We continue to miss him tremendously, and will never ever forget him or stop loving him. We just get to do it from a new zip code.

Who knows: Maybe one day I'll get around to writing "the book", but for now, I I'm going to just...be. To actually hear the leaves rustle and the raindrops fall and the coffee maker percolate. And, well, you know...move. Because to all those people who ask "how do you do it?" The answer is: By taking care of me and making adjustments when things aren't working. And clearly, to anyone paying attention, this current life of mine is simply not working for me. It's time for us to begin our next chapter in life.