A different time

I am a different person.  I have a different job.  A different love.  A different perspective on life.  And we, as a human species, have a very current and direct threat.  COVID 19 is why I am back on here.  Not because I have it or I have some deep medical or social understanding of it, but because of how it is impacting me. 

Ohio has been under shelter in for just under one week.  The week prior to that, the company I work for pushed their divisions to work from home.  Except my team.  Part of that new job is sustaining operations of a large part of the company.  So I planned.  And planned.  Revisited the plan.  Talked about the plan and then implemented.  It was working just fine until we had to start taking our temperature before coming into the building.  There are a lot of adults without young children at home that do not have a thermometer.  This order from the State also chipped away at the feeling that was already there.....were we doing the right thing in asking these people to come in?  Was I putting my self at risk because I don't who they interact without outside of the office?  Revisions happened again.  And a week later, a week after the people I work with on a regular basis, I was told to stay home (expect one to two days a week).  I am a week behind in getting used to this feeling of isolation and loneliness.  I am a week behind in trying to find my way through my work, which is based in so many meetings and collaboration, that it feels impossible at times.  This role is still new to me.  I will be celebrating my 5 month in it on April 4th.  I have gone through this feeling of loneliness since the transition and was really truly, after A LOT of work on myself, starting to come through to the other side of it.  Recognizing that yes, this is going to be a lonely position.  Yes, I was hired to be the boss which means there are a lot of relationship dynamics that are just different with my team.  And yes, my boyfriend, who I love in a way that I have not loved another person, works (pre COVID19) 4 feet away from me.  I came into his territory, and really, there isn't one person who hasn't made that known.  Which is another layer of loneliness.  But I was starting to manage.  I was working through it.  I have been practicing meditation and yoga daily.  I have started virtual therapy.  I am doing the right things.  And this hits. 

I haven't scheduled a therapy session since the last one was accidentally cancelled by the system.  Well, that isn't entirely true, I have scheduled two, but they haven't happened yet.  The week and a half prior to this crippling last week were so busy.  Planning.  School being closed.  Restaurants being closed.  The last chance to see my mom and dad.  Implementing social distancing.  Trying to find toilet paper.  While I have continued my yoga and mediation - neither have brought me peace - I have allowed the therapy to fall off my priority for myself.  Which, in combination with the state of the world and feeling the physical match to my mental loneliness, caused me to have a horrible week which came to head yesterday.  I spiraled like I haven't spiraled in a few months. 

When I spiral, I have the tendency to lump into my emotional state, my relationship status.  Our relationship is not perfect by any means and I do not know how to express what I need when I need it when I know or feel like it is in contradiction to his needs.  Which a lot of mine are.  I need people.  I energize from people.  He does not.  He does not like to move around as much as he does.  He is a homebody.  While his is comfortable in my home, it is still not his own space.  It does not have his things in it.  I respect that and I respect how well he knows himself, especially when I feel like such a novice at knowing who I am.  But it adds to my lonely feeling sometimes.  It not malicious or intending to be hurtful, but it can feel like he could take me or not.  Like I am inconsequential to his life.  I know what you are thinking - either he is an asshole - which I promise you he is not - or you are thinking - Wow.  Why do you think so little of yourself?  This is the nail head.  This is one of the big conversations as my last therapy.  Where did my "not good enough" feeling start and how the fuck do I dig my way out of that feeling.  I'll tell you right now, I have felt it deep down for a long time.  I have convinced myself that I am pretty awesome and it usually works well at the beginning of my romantic relationships.  Then, some where, I no longer believe it.

My fear is that people slowly like me less the longer they know me.  I know this really has nothing to do with the beginning of my writing.  But that is a prime example of how I go from the present issue to this place of self disappointment.  I know better today of my self worth than I did in January of this year.  I know that I am worth a lot of love and respect and being cared for.  I know that I would do anything that I can for the people that I love and the people they love.  I know these things about myself.  Not being able to act them out is hard.  Being a "caretaker" at work is hard.  I reach out to everyone on my team and people who are not on my team to see how they are doing.  Aside from my boyfriend, there is only one person who has reached out to me with regularity to ask me that same question.  I saw something on Facebook about feeling like you aren't liked when people aren't reaching out to you during this time.  I get that.  When I have been waffling on that feeling of being part of this new team and whether the people that are on my boyfriend's team actually like me or if I am just invited (occasionally) to participate in social events with them because he and I are together.  I get that feeling of intertwining not talking with someone and associating that with what value they have about you.  I guess my only response to myself is to remember that they are all dealing with this too and maybe they don't know how or have someone they are caring for that is taking their focus from caring for others at work.  You never know what someone else is dealing with outside of the bubble that you know them.  And even if you are in one of their bubbles, you still don't know about all of their other ones. 

Being in someone else's bubble is a bad metaphor to use during the time of social distancing. 

Lost Zen

Dear goodness, I don't even know where to start.  Or how far back to go.  Or how to move forward and where to start.  So many changes in such a small amount of time.  Good changes.  Changes for the best, to be honest, but just so many.

Two years and seven months ago I bought a house.  The biggest success (besides keeping my son alive) of my life. Huge.  It was the best high I have ever had.  My confidence was through the roof; nothing could bring me down.  I knew who I was and I was kicking ass at it.  I was a successful, homeowning, badass, juggle all the balls in the air with one hand, single mom.  I didn't need anyone.  I wasn't asking for help.  I was the best version of my self I had ever been.  It was great.  I really thought I would always be her.  Although she was lonely and wanted to find someone who would shift her entire world, never once did I (now) and me (then), think that she would exist in any other form.

I found that person who shifted my world and things shot off like a canon.  Just as fast as I bought my house and moved in, we added another person in less than a year.  It made so much sense  for B to move in so quickly!  Financially and,of course, emotionally.  It's a decision I will never regret.  I can't imagine not seeing him everyday.  But I digress.

Big changes.  You know I hadn't lived with another adult since I was in college? (my mom totally doesn't count)  I didn't really think about the challenges of cohabitation and the changes I would go through when I committed myself to him.  Those changes, when you aren't paying attention, can really sneak up on you.  When you have so much of your identity wrapped up in something that changes once another adult is brought into the picture, you find yourself wondering who the fuck you really are.

I'm 32.  Pretty soon I'll be 33.  I have identified myself as a single parent for 9 years.  And while B and I are not married, for the majority of our relationship, he has been involved in RP's life on a daily basis.  That kinda makes him a parent.  He disciplines, he helps, he guides, he teaches, he loves, he shows affection, he does everything a dad does.  I am not a single mother any longer.  I have a partner.  I have a person to help me make parenting decisions.  We make them together.  Now granted, as a lot of other blended families know, there is that gray area of parenting a child that is not your own.  B respects this area but will lend his opinion even if he knows it differs from mine and may not be the direction I take. 

Sounds pretty effing perfect right?! Except for the facts that I have lost myself.  Between the honeymoon phase of a relationship, the changes in living arrangements, the conceding of parental power to another person, the changes in my professional life as well as my volunteering life, I don't know who I am like I did two years ago.  That version of me is gone.  The person I grew into over 9 years of struggling alone isn't here.  I'm not sure which has depressed me more recently, the realization that I am facing another chapter of self discovery, acknowledgement, and awareness or missing her or realizing that over the past few months I have been demonstrating a person whom I cannot stand.

I worry constantly, I create drama (probably due to the fact that this is NOT a volital relationship), I am needy. (and not in the good way), and worst of all, I am looking externally for validation of my self worth.  I can't find it internally.  What once was there cannot be found.  Actually, I take that back.  This is the worst part, I have take it out on B more than once.  Projecting all of my issues to be his short comings.  Way to win girlfriend of the year, am I right?  Ugh, I get so mad just thinking about it.  He isn't perfect, but he doesn't derseve a shit storm of someone's problem thrown at him as though he is the problem.

One of my biggest issues I have ever had is trusting anyone.  He has done nothing but show me I can trust him.  Yet, my alter ego - we shall call her Princess Paranoia, gets in my head and tears reality to shreds and replaces it with a story that I then believe to be true.  That doesn't even make sense when I reread that! So you can imagine the shit storm occurring in my brain.

And although, my mom, my sister, B, and my best friend have all said this to me at least once over the past few months, it has taken me until today to realize this.....I need to focus on myself.  I need to figure out the type of partner I want to be and the type of coparent I want to be. I need to give myself a break.  I need to find a hobby or a new way to volunteer.  I didn't learn how to be a partner or coparent out of shared experiences, we just did it.  I have no doubt that we can and will be successful, but I can't be successful if I am constantly an emotional mess. 

So after all that, I need to take a first step.  I've decided that first step should be finding my zen.  That thing that brings me back to my center when I feel myself reeling.  No clue what it is.......maybe it writing here again, or yoga, or running, or volunteering, or something I have yet to discover, but I'll find it.  

It's been awhile........

I can't remember the last time I posted and I did not even bother going to reread it.  I'm sure life is the same but completely different all together.  So what brings me back to my blog?  Ten years.  

My son, my baby, my heart will be a decade old in a little over a month.  This is hard.  Him turning 10 is seriously messing with me and affecting a lot of other parts of my life.  

In November I cried when I realized it had been a decade since I told my family I was pregnant.  Ten years since my body has stretched and grew with him.  Ten years since I knew in my heart that I would never love anyone more than him. Ten years since I wondered what he would look like.  Ten years since I had no idea who he would be or what kind of kid he would be.  Ten years since I felt the magical movement from within.  Ten years since I would never think of only myself again.

I wish I could reflect with tears of only joy in my eyes, but let's be real here, kids are effing hard to raise.  The newest "phase" (and I used the word phase with hopes that it is very VERY short lived) has been the most difficult.  He gets angry.  Angry at me.  Angry at B.  Angry at himself.  I would like to blame it on ADHD, or his long days, or something.  I don't think it is a reflection of me.  Or B.  Or himself.  I guess it could be hormones, the beginning of puberty maybe? My baby starting puberty?!?!?!  The fuck.  

I know my boy is still in there, behind the attitude and the anger.  I don't know how to get him to open up to me.  Maybe I'm not the person he can open up to anymore.

Handling him turning ten may as well be a mid-life crisis for me.  

Humbled Mom

Last night there was a big storm in Cincinnati.  It started while RP was playing, what become, his last baseball game of the season.  They had a long run and made it to the third game of the tournament, but when we were down by 11 runs and the lightning started last night, we conceded the loss instead of waiting for 30 minute for the game to be rescheduled for being one run short of a run rule.  Anyway, the dark clouds followed us as we drove from Okeana back to civilization.  We stopped at Chipotle for dinner and watched the sky get darker and darker during our meal.  Occasionally there would be a flash of lightning which sparked a thought in RP's brain.

He started talking about sprites.  I had never heard of a sprite before (unless it was the carbonated beverage or a forest creature) so I just listened to his explanation.  According to him, it was the part of the lightning that comes up from the ground when lightning strikes from the sky.  He had learn about this through a "document" he watched before he watched the "document" about the really smart guy in the wheelchair (Stephen Hawking).  Each time the lightning would strike, he would say, "Oh, that was a good one, that one had to have had a sprite."

Later I asked B if he has ever heard on a sprite before, his response was no.  In typical grown up, I-know-more-than-my-son, he-must-have-heard-it-wrong fashion, I didn't really believe he knew what he was talking about.  Tisk tisk Mom.  I should really have more faith in his knowledge.  I know he is smart and I know his memory is way better than mine.  I shouldn't second guess everything that he tells me and here is why: while entering information about a property loss due to lightning strike, I was reminded of our conversation.  So I pulled up trusty ole Google, and guess what.....he was mostly right.  Mama has been schooled!  Granted, he was wrong about where a sprite occurs, but he reference it in the correct situation.

Maybe I am alone in not knowing what a sprite is already and need to education myself.  Or maybe it isn't common knowledge.

I am humbled and feel foolish for not trusting him more last night.

If you don't know what it is either.....here are some references

http://news.discovery.com/earth/weather-extreme-events/red-sprites-lightning-130822.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sprite_(lightning)

http://www.universetoday.com/103969/watch-sprite-lightning-flash-at-10000-frames-per-second/

17/52

A portrait of my son, once a week for every week in 2014

This is the face I get when I say, "hey look at me"

16/52

A portrait of my son, once a week for every week in 2014

Playing with his new favorite ladies

 

15/52

*A portrait of my son, once a week for every week in 2014.*

RP and his best buddy after the school sharing program