...And the fog lifts

Last week was by far my worst week of 2010. I'm expecting to have more. But I'm expecting to have less than I did in 2009. I'm expecting to have at least half of what I did in 2007-2008.

My friend Emily sent me a note on Facebook and mentioned that I needed to let some things go. That I shouldn't expect to do everything in a straight line - that it's okay to dance, move, zig zag and weave through life. I do have some major control issues. Yes, sir. I certainly do. I do believe that some (if not most) of my depression stems from my control issues. I'm not getting anything done. It's hard to focus. So I half-a$% everything. It's frustrating.

What she pointed out was that she's really great at some things. Pretty good at others. And then there are things she just totally sucks at. And she's okay with that. Oh, to be that...cool. When I left my therapist's office the week before last, my therapist hugged me and said "Kate...take it *easy* on yourself!". Well I wasn't really listening. I mean, I was. Because I like what my therapist says to me. But when Emily wrote and said that it's okay to totally suck at some things, I laughed. I could relate to that statement.

I know it's okay to have cereal for dinner. I know it's okay to let some things go. But part of my depression last week stemmed from the realization that I haven't actually improved things at home - I've just outsourced more. I now have a cleaning woman and a yard service. Those are the two things I absolutely despise doing. Lots of other families in Kohler have someone clean their house for them. I'm not sure why it's a hangup for me, except to say that I was raised by the world's most perfect stay-at-home-mom that was a marathoner, mowed the lawn, cleaned the house and always had time to make real dinners, bake real cookies, and spend time with us kids. I can't keep up with everything. I'm not a dive-into-grief-by-being-ultra-organized kind of girl. I'm more of a dive-into-grief-by-being-crabby-and-sad kind of girl. Crabby and sad do not equate to a clean house and perfectly cooked meals for me. They equate to girlscout cookies and wine.

Despite my mood last week, I did get some things done. And I started a few things I've been meaning to do and haven't for around two years. I managed to pull out of my mood by this weekend. Friday night I went out to a movie with my friends Liz and Tom, and Eric. It was fun. We went for a drink afterward and it was nice to get dressed up and go out. Saturday I did two things I haven't done in years. Eric came over and we made a dinner out of Cooking Light. I think the last time I did that, Jim and I made a pork tenderloin BBQ. (ie. Jim was still healthy and able to grill out...so at the very least it was probably 3 1/2 to 4 years ago.) The dinner Eric and I made was fabulous. Mustard pork chops, mashed sweet potatoes and steamed green beans. It was yum. And I made a Gooey Butter Cake. I can't honestly remember the last time I made a Gooey Butter Cake. It's my Aunt Kate's recipe, and it's seriously awesome. It's happiness and fat in a 13x9 pan. It's one of those things - I always felt like there was no point in making real desserts unless Jim was here. Cupcakes - no problem. But a real dessert? What for?

Wednesday it will have been 2 1/2 years. Where in the world does the time go? It seems like yesterday since he died. It seems like it's been forever since he died. I definitely seem to live in Dog Years since he died. One week seems like a lifetime. It was an odd week. It was my closest week to how I felt since he died. I couldn't get a handle on anything. I wandered the house at night. I couldn't watch tv. Couldn't focus. My patience was short. I didn't sleep well - I tossed and turned and I had nightmares about cancer, among other things. I smiled and looked happy when I saw people in public but I was just dead on the inside. My jaw and teeth hurt from clamping my teeth at night.

There's nothing I can do but wait this out. So far, things seem better. It was a good weekend. Tomorrow kicks off a new week. I love and loathe St. Patrick's Day now. It used to be my favorite holiday. I guess it still is. But I would much prefer it if it wasn't the 1/2 year marker of Jim's passing. 2 1/2 years. When he died I didn't honestly know if I could survive 2 1/2 days without him. I am surviving. I'm hanging on. There's a light at the end of every tunnel. I see the light. I know it will get better. Last week was dark, but this week I'm catching up with the light. I can do it. It doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to be what I can manage. And I'm trying to remember what Emily and my therapist said - it's okay to totally suck at some things.