This melancholy tastes bad, send it back.

I've had bouts of insomnia that really screwed with my brain. Then I had a dose of happy excitement that I thought kicked the insomnia to the curb. Now the melancholy has set in. This is what I absolutely hate about myself. It's so easy for me to get to this place. I don't want it. I'm sending it back.

Let's back up...

I was suffering from some extreme insomnia. It was rough. I wasn't sure which end was up, when the day started and when it ended. I felt like a newborn with it's schedule all messed up. But at least newborns got to nap all through out the day. Instead I had to stay up and tend to my family. My utter exhaustion hit me on the worse day possible--I was doing a benefit walk and was supposed to be social and happy all day but instead I was a huge bump on the log. Thankfully my friends understood. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I was going to have guests in a week so I had to shift into gear, get the house ready for guests and get my shit done.

Because my house is never guest ready. I'm pretty much live in a pig sty. But I've already discussed that.

Thankfully, school started at this time forcing me to get my shit together. I was up at 6am with the kids, running them too and from school and practically hosing this house down from the dog and kid and husband stench. (If you have all three, you know what I mean!) My insomnia was taken care of--or so it seemed. I was sleeping at night, and waking up somewhat happy during the day. One of my best friends was here visiting with her husband, why wouldn't I be ecstatic about that?

I rode that high for a few days. Then the pinnacle happened... I saw my man--you know, Adam Levine from Maroon 5? I might have mentioned him before--in concert. It was something I've been waiting for for about 4 1/2 months. Yes, Four And A Half Long Months. I planned this trip to the concert for so long. I researched hotels in the area, I thought about my outfit, my shoes, my hair, the car I'm going to drive (take the Mazda that's better on gas or my comfy SUV with the better stereo?). I was a woman on a planning mission.

Next thing it was the day after the concert, my best friend was going home and I was left with my life as I knew it before. But wait, not as I knew it before because now I have nothing to look forward to. I have nothing on the horizon. Every spare moment I had before I spent anticipating and planning and re-planning this whole concert trip. Now it was over, what did I have left?

Inner voice: Oh geez, maybe your kids, your husband, your archetypal life?

Um, yea... fuck you inner voice.

My friend left and since I've slipped into a near coma. All I want to do is sleep. I feel like my body was hit by a Mack truck, drug 300 miles then catapulted back home. This melancholy crap isn't mental it's physical too. I hate it. And not only is it the lack of anything on the horizon, suddenly it's everything already on my plate. My kids are out of control and I know it's all my fault. I'm a horrible, impatient mother. My husband isn't satisfied because well... I don't feel like satisfying his needs. And I'm not talking sexually. He's still in major pain from his shoulder surgery months ago and all he wants is a little sympathy from me--a little bit of nurturing--and I refuse to give it. He's a grown man! He can take care of himself. I've got myself and two maniacal kids to nurture. I can't do it all. Of course that's a whole other can a worms I'm not going to open right now.

You see, it's all a bunch of bull shit. Everything I'm deal with should be easily wiped away if I just pulled myself up from my boot straps (where the hell did that saying come from? The only strap on my boots is the Doc Marten tag on the back of the boot. Am I suppoed to pull myself up with that? Um, yea, not gonna happen!).  The person who said that obviously had motivation and joy in their lives to push them further along. He (or she, who knows) didn't have bouts with depression, the kind that knock you on your ass and you aren't sure what hit your or how the hell your going to get back up. Because no boot strap is going to help you if you are deep in a hole. You need a lifeline thrown to you to help you out. It might take a while but you need that person to be there, holding it patiently.

Lucky for me, I have that person who's going to always be there holding that lifeline out to me. I have others who give me boosts along the way--and pretty hefty boosts at that. But knowing I always have that lifeline...

You see, I'm scared. So scared that sometimes the hole is just too deep. And I'm scared I've fallen too far down it. I just really hope that lifeline and those boosts don't go away. I hope they know how important they are to me. I hope they know that sometimes I fall and I'm too stubborn to ask for help and sometimes I just need the comfort that they are there for me when I need them. I need them to say, "That's just Leslie. I may not understand where it all came from, but I'm going to be there for her."

...

...

Ok. I'm pulling myself up, dusting myself off and going to continue about my day. Company may be gone but the hosing of the stench still needs to be done. I mean, seriously, how can this place get so messy and stinky in just a day or two? I know it's not me! I use my special scented soaps and lotions. I smell good! It's the 5 other occupants in this house that stink this place up!



Stinker culprits #1 & #2

 Now if those faces can't make me smile, nothing can.

I apologize for any spelling and grammatical errors. I just don't have it in me to proofread. Sorry!