The Campaigning Thing

I hate it. I encouraged him to do it, I absolutely did. I pushed him in the direction I knew he wanted to go.

But I didn't know. Just like I didn't know I'd be in the house all the time with a new baby, or that they slept so much, or how frustrating it is to not be able to talk with them, I didn't know a campaign would be like this. Non-stop. Days. Nights. Weekdays. Weekends. 5 a.m. 10 p.m. Seriously, it is that bad at times. Like right now, when I am at home alone on a Friday night at 8:00 while Jason picks up supplies for tomorrow's parade. Or tomorrow, a Saturday, which is most people's family day, when he will spent morning until evening running around for ISU Homecoming events, most of which I can't go to because I have a baby.

I feel so alone. And I hate his damn campaign. I wish to everything that he wasn't running. AND, I hate that every time I bring up his crazy schedule, which is SERIOUSLY CRAZY, he acts like everyone is this busy and I'm overreacting. He cannot, CANNOT take criticism at all.

But he basically didn't see Augie awake Tuesday - Thursday. And today he only saw Augie while we were out filming footage for his campaign ads and to put Augie to bed. And tomorrow he won't see Augie until right before Augie goes to bed. Am I crazy for not liking this????? NO, I THINK IT IS PERFECTLY NORMAL TO DISLIKE A SCHEDULE THAT KEEPS HIM AWAY FROM ME AND OUR BABY SON ALMOST EVERY WAKING HOUR. AGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

Back in the Dark Tunnel

Oh, goodness. Why don't I ever want to write when life is good?

Here I am at 1:00 a.m. on a Tuesday, and I have to get up in 6 hours. Not because I have work, but because my guide on how to beat insomnia requires that I get up at the same time every day (see how well it's working!!??).

I have a baby. August. He is the cutest little bug in my opinion, with crazy spiky hair (yes, hair on a 4 month old!) and a sweet little face. He's doing all sorts of cool things: rolling around, laughing, touching things (my face, toys, his crib, pretty much anything), and talking gibberish. Only I can't step back and enjoy him like I should because I appear to have postpardum anxiety.

It started right after I had him. Birth was a wee bit traumatic, only because I was sold 100% on the epidural, and my labor went so quick there wasn't time for one. That was a little crazy and massively painful. So for about three days after having Augie, I did not sleep. I was filled with crazy, non-stop, nervous energy. I finally went to the emergency room on the third night and got some sleeping medication and slept, if fitfully.

Some other complicating factors: 1) two days after the birth of my Augie, my husband decided to declare his candidacy for a seat in which there is currently a Republican incumbent. So our life has turned into full-time campaigning, and the primary (which is the election that really counts in this one) is not for six more months; 2) we moved about two months after Augie was born, to a new town where I didn't really know anyone (for politics).

I think it is not crazy to conclude that 1) a first child + 2) a slightly traumatic birth + 3) a move to a new town + 4) career change (me becoming a stay at home mom) + 5) the embarking on my husband's first big campaign = ANXIETY AND STRESS!

I'm trying to cope with things, but it is tough. I felt like I had a handle on it all last week - - I stopped taking sleeping meds a couple of weeks ago and was sleeping pretty well last week, and I was making some new friends and felt pretty happy. But then at the end of last week the sleeping well thing stopped and the anxiety ramped back up. At this point I feel like I'm about to lose my shit entirely if I don't normalize. So I've accepted that maybe this is a problem I can't will away on my own, and I am contacting some therapists and maybe even thinking I need to be on some temporary anxiety meds until some of the new-ness of my life wears off. I mean, it hardly even feels like my life! I'm in a different place, doing different things (i.e., not working and taking care of a BABY!) in a different body (helloooo sore girl parts and milk boobs. And bigger tummy). HOW IS THIS MY LIFE!???

I mean, I love this baby. I wanted this baby. But why did I think it was a good idea to have a baby right before a gazillion major life changes???

I am optimistic that time and professional help (and maybe meds) will help me to get back to a normal me...whatever that is!

To Be or Not to Be - That Would Be an Easier Question Than What to Be

I'm at a point in my life where I'm fairly happy with things. I am with a wonderful man, close with my family, missing my old friends a little but keeping in touch and making new ones, happy and comfortable in my home, and working on things with God and enjoying life. The one missing component is a satisfying work life.

I like the people at my job. I don't hate my work but I have too little of it. And while I don't hate it, it is slightly depressing to think of doing it forever.

I've made some efforts in the past year to go back to school. I'm not there yet, and I'm beginning to wonder if that is the right place for me. Grad school is seven years of my life with little to no income and a busy schedule. I don't know if it fits for me anymore. As much as the thought of teaching makes me happy, I dont' know if I want to go through 7 years of school. Not that I wouldn't enjoy it (I think I would) but that maybe it isn't practical right now. It is a financial drain; it consumes one's life. What if I want babies? What if Jay and I don't have enough money? What then? These questions plague me. Then there is the eternal location problem. Jay wants to stay in Champaign or Bloomington. While I've grown to love Champagin and like Bloomington, the strict location restriction really narrows my choices.

That's not to say I couldn't make it happen. I think that I could if I busted my rear and forced it to work. But where could I teach, if I go to school here and am limited to teaching at ISU, Wesleyan, or Bradley? What if I don't get a job at any of them? It is so intimidating to think this way.

I've been thinking a lot about writing. What a life a writer would have - freedom, time to daydream, flexibility. But how likely is that? How rare is it that anyone gets anything published? Or, even if it is published, how rare is it that the author makes money?

I've thought about politics. Clerking. Teaching high school. There are so many things I've thought about doing in the past year as this has all been floating around in my head. I need to pray for some insight and wisdom. I want to do something that I find worthwhile. I used think that I'd be special; make some great difference in the world. Now, I just want to (I hope this is my motivation) find some peace with myself and enjoy what I do every day. I hope I can achieve that.

Time to Think

Sometimes I feel like I really need some time to decompress and think about things. I'd love to have time to work on my relationship with God, to reevaluate my career, to write, etc. I have been extremely busy lately (in a good way!) - with wedding planning, work, vacation planning, politics, and now, fostering a puppy named Lily (a pit bull puppy). All of it is so fun, but I'm exhausted and feel like I don't have time to decompress.

Next week I'm going to Ireland on vacation. The problem is that on vacations, sometimes I'm busier than when I'm at home. But maybe I can take a day or two - maybe hiking or just hanging out with Jay and talking - to slow myself down internally a little. It would be so nice!

Clean Slate

I started blogging almost two years ago, hoping that I could make some sense out of my life, grow, learn, muse, and generally find interesting things to think about - like a journal, but more intellectual and visitor friendly. Instead of channeling my energies into something productive and fun, however, I instead used this blog the way an adolescent girl uses her diary: to spill my guts, to rant, to whine, to think about petty and childish things, and to write about things that nobody in their right mind would ever want to read. I used it to bring all of the petty and selfish parts of me to the surface.

I've been thinking about how to deal with this blog; this vat of putrid and angsty ramblings that has been floating about in cyberspace for someone to stumble across. Should I abandon it entirely? Try to steer it in a better direction? I settled for something in the middle, and deleted everything I've previously written. I thought it would be much harder to delete it all; after all, even if I hated my prior asinine outpourings, they were my asinine outpourings. They were part of me. However, apparently I was more ready than I thought to shed that skin and start fresh. Going through and deleting all of my posts ended up feeling positively wonderful. It was the right decision. I don't need to look back on and dwell on that time of my life. It was a dark time, and I am not proud of how I acted - actually, I am not proud of who I was - back then.

I feel as if the last year has been a journey; an awakening. I've come from a place more dark and dismal than anything I've ever experienced before. I've emerged from a muddy and dank hole that I dug for myself. It was gradual, this awakening. I did not just suddenly see the light and shake off the snares of depression and hopelessness all at once. It was bit by bit. I went from feeling less than human - I felt wretched and undeserving of love or kindness or any good thing - to feeling the slightest glimmer of hope; a light at the end of the tunnel. I still battled fears and bouts of depression for some time. They became less and less frequent, and then, finally, left me altogether. It was like watching a sun rise in slow motion: there was no sudden dawn; instead, there was a gradual lightening of the horizon, so that first, the pitch black became a deep, glowing midnight blue and the outlines of shapes became barely visible, and then, colors appeared in muted shades of gray, lightening until they were vibrant and distinct in the glowing sun. It was like that. I knew I was pulling out of it bit by bit, and then one day, I realized I was happy. Not just surviving, but enjoying my life; savoring the many lovely moments each new day offered. I had come back into myself; I could recognize myself; and I felt full of contentment and hope and joy.

I realize now that God has had a huge role to play in all of this. More precisely, He had been in complete control of all of it, even when I thought He had left me entirely. I fought and fought for something, in my ignorance and short-sightedness, and God simply did not let it be. He let me endure the suffering and hurt that I brought on myself by not listening to Him in the first place. It was hard, but it was deserved. I caused every bit of what I went through. And still, despite all of my stubbornness and sin, God led me to this place. I am happier now than I deserve to be. I have been blessed beyond measure. My life may not be everything I thought I wanted, but it is everything that I needed all along. I am in a place where I am comfortable and content; I am going to be married to a man that builds me up and shelters me from life's cruelties; I am among people I love and I am surrounded by God's creation. I simply could not ask for more happiness.

The end of the last year's journey is a new beginning for me in my life, and in my writing. I hope that what I now write reflects a humbled heart, a softened soul, and a thankful spirit. I hope that I can track my growth from this point; that I can use it to seek, instead of wait for clarity.