Therapy

Approximately a year ago, I sought professional counseling for my anxiety and depression for the first time.  I'd like to see I reached some breakthrough and snapped out of my melancholy.  Unfortunately, time and circumstances did not really allow that.

What counseling did was give me a safe place.  For each session, I knew I had that time to myself, to say aloud whatever I wanted about how I felt, to cry, to yell, to sit and be listened to uninterrupted.   It helped.  In the middle of the beginning of yet another transitional stage in my life, it helped.

Counseling was one form of therapy, but I have sought other forms throughout the years.  For a time, blogging was one.  Then I decided it's not really safe to share my deepest, darkest secrets in the abyss of the internet.  Before the internet, I journaled.  I have several.  When I struggled with post-partum depression, that is what my OB/Gyn recommended alongside medication, when the idea of coordinating counseling stressed me out.  Yep, it did.

And then came running.  Or walking. Both, really.  Intentional setting aside of time for my physical and mental health.  In addition to the physical benefits, the time to myself has been priceless. Whether it's been through our neighborhood, on a road, on the elliptical or treadmill at the gym, or my favorite, with my running buddy who met me for our first 5k and just completed her first marathon this Winter (while pregnant with TWINS, she's superwoman)... No matter where I am at, if I want to fit it in, I can.

Here are some reasons I love running:

1) It doesn't require special equipment, other than good shoes. Oh, there are tons of gadgets and apps, but really... you don't even have to have a watch if you don't want one.
2)  It comes naturally,.  Well that's not quite true.  I remember posting to Facebook that running 1/2 mile was harder than delivering a child without an epidural.  And in all honesty, I still run intervals.  My asthma and my joints require that I take walk breaks, and I prefer not to injure myself.  So far, so good.  I have two legs, it doesn't require extra special coordination.  I don't even have to run in a straight line.  I also have fairly long legs, at 5' 7", and my stride is long to begin with, which does help. But the more I train, the more I find that I want to press toward that next goal.  Once I hit the 5k mark, I wanted to try a 10k.  Now I am aiming for a half marathon.  Lord know I never imagined that for myself.  I doubt I will want to do a full marathon, but I have learned to never say never.
3) It challenges me.  I am not a great goal setter.  When I was a teacher, I was more of the creative thinker/absent minded professor.  In a world where assessments and deadlines prevail, it's no wonder I did not last very long in that profession.  Lesson planning is my weakness.  However, with running, if I want to improve, I need a plan.  I am a procrastinator, but in order to succeed injury free with more difficult goals, I HAVE to take it step by step.
4)  It's given me community.  I remember sitting in my Bible study small group hearing friends talk about their training and upcoming races and thinking, "I could never do that."  Those friends became cheerleaders. Other friends who run cheer me on, and I cheer them on, as we pursue our individual goals. While my own success or failure does not directly impact others (unless I do a relay), the encouragement we glean from each other is significant. On race day, that smile from a stranger, encouraging word, or even sarcastic joke may be just what I need to keep going or push farther.
Online forums through MRTT (Moms Run This Town) offer encouragement and opportunities to meet for training runs or meet in person at local races.  Even though I live an hour from the nearest chapter, that online support has kept me from quitting since my move to a new state.
5) It lowers my blood sugar.  It doesn't mean I can eat whatever I want, but it does make me feel less guilty for over-indulging. Sometimes. I don't want to know what my A1C would be without consistent exercise.
6) It offers solitude and reflection. I am not a gym rat.  I use the gym because I have to until I get acclimated to the Northern climate, and they have child care so I can run without pushing my 3 year old in his stroller at least a couple of times a week. In all honesty, our local gym is a little awkward for me.  I am one of the few patrons under 50 because most women my age work outside the home during the times I go, unlike the suburban South where there were lots of stay at home moms.  My favorite runs our outside, on a street or trail, where I can use landmarks to set that next goal and get my vitamin D therapy. When I ran with a buddy, sometimes we talked, which was often therapeutic and I do miss, but when I run alone it's me, my thoughts, the wind, and God. Outdoor running or walking is by far my favorite.

Right now, I would rather carve out time for this kind of therapy than any other. It helps.

Once upon a time

people stayed where their families lived and worked for generations
children went off to school to learn a new trade, but returned "home" with their new skill
or they stayed home and found a local job and worked hard to advance in the company
or maybe they went off to school,  got a job elsewhere, and settled and lived happily ever
people who grew up in one of those situations
don't always seem to understand
the process variations for the rest of us
the how's or the why's or the where's

the alternate route may appear nomadic
but there is a purpose
our path may curve and fork
but we journey together
****
not every puzzle comes in a box with a picture of what it's supposed to look like in the end

One more added to the list of "things I started but didn't complete"

If you are my friend on that virtual social-networking world that has replaced my blogging addiction, you figured that out.  If you happened to stop by here and noticed the absence of posts, you probably suspected as much.  Maybe next year....
 *****
I have a confession.  Nothing major.... in spite of my ability to sometimes ramble incessantly, I just can't be too transparent on here these days.   I became a fan of something that I thought was another of those silly, cool little quips because it made me laugh.  "Hair in my coffee."  It turns out that I became a "fan" of a blog I had never read.  Well, as soon as those little updates popped up on my status menu, I realized my error.  And I clicked. And read. And now I really am a fan.   The author of the blog is also posting chapters from her novel.  I like it.  A lot.  Better than "The Blind Side," my current read on my nightstand (no I have not seen the movie yet).  Two totally different books, btw, not fair to compare really.  My favorite part of "TBS" is flashbacks from our time in Memphis.  And for the record, I have a really hard time visualizing Sandra Bullock as the Mom, so she must have done an excellent job and deserved the Academy award...  the Mom in the book really comes across as much more "East Memphis" than I ever thought I would see Sandra play. 

Kristin's story is totally different than the one which Sandra plays.  (I like TBS so "well" that I can't even remember the poor Mom's name fight now!)  Her main character is someone I could imagine having cut my hair (except I'll probably never have that done on a set).  Very likeable and relatable, IMO.  Anyway, I need not compare these two works, because they are totally different stories.  But let's just say I think I will like the movie better than The Blind Side book for the simple fact I'm not big on all the football explanations.  They're like reading a technical manual, albeit a well-written one. (Anyone want my copy when I finish it, with that stellar recommendation?)
*****
Hubby's home again.  Thank God.  In a couple of weeks, we'll venture up to his former homeland to visit Great Gram.  I hope Buddy doesn't bite her or break any of her limbs by trying to climb on her.  We passed our local organic farm (where we just bought some flowers for our balcony 2 days ago) on the way back from the library today, and she saw the calves and said she wants to get a cow someday.  I told her to take that up with her Dad, and she can see some in a few weeks when we visit Great Gram.
*****
I think I'm going to go over on my broadband Prozac this month, even though I only have 2 days left.  Yep, you read that right.  My internet access in limited by Verizon.  We set up this account in the moving transition, and the contract is not up yet.  At one point we really only used about 1/2 the data allowance per month.  Then reality hit after we moved.  I truly am addicted to aspects of the internet. Oh well, we'll take it out of Hubby's per diem.

32 weeks



I'm in my 8th month! Where has the time gone? Fortunately, I have not spent as much of it hovered over the toilet as I did when Bear was inside. Even with outdoor temps in the 90's with uncomfortable humidity, I'm enjoying this pregnancy overall. The 3rd-time-expectant-Mom and previous-pregnancy-loss nerves have gradually been replaced by a wonder and joy. And our little guy's kicks and rolls. He's currently upset that my bout of insomnia disturbed his restful slumber. I'm hoping the peach, nutty bars & milk which I have just consumed will make him feel better... though the sugar level is probably not helping him sleep, either. Anyway, it's a vicious cycle. Bear still naps, so I take one, too. Then I either can't get to sleep, or wake up to use the restroom and can't return to sleep.

Yes, I am aware that my blog has been overtaken by pregnancy related posts. That's a central theme in my life right now. THE central theme. It's really a lot of fun, and if you are married and still of child-bearing age, you should try it. Again, for some of you. Not just the posting.
The miracle of life is even more amazing the second time around than the first. While I am still loving observing the process of becoming a parent the first time through, perhaps I am captivated by my 2 1/2 year old's curiousity. She seems very aware of what's going on, though she may not have a clue about the changes that will come with her brother's arrival. (Similar to the changes that her cousins could not foresee with the arrival of a new puppy and kitty in their house within a couple of weeks' time, perhaps? crt, I think you're exempt from the "you should try it" until things settle down at your place... ;-P) I know some people so desperately want more kids and for whatever reason, struggle with either getting pregnant or keeping their little babies growing. My heart aches; I can't imagine having to deal with that pain and heartache over and over. I am reminded that even each day of waiting for this little one is a gift in itself.

Little Guy's blanket is coming along. I do a couple of rows at a time. I kind of wore myself out tackling the gift for a friend, so I am finishing this one at a more leisurely pace. I loved making it, and it is all boxed up and waiting to be taken to the Post Office along with a gift (made by a neighbor, not me) for another friend's new baby girl.

Our Childbirth Education "Class" arrived in the mail this week.
We are foregoing taking the course at the hospital; hubby sometimes travels and committing to ANY 6- week course was pretty much impossible. So I ordered a video we can watch at our leisure. And instead of briefly skimming over the comfort techniques, etc., we can focus on those parts. Hubby has been told that unless he wants to fork out the money for a doula, he IS my doula. He can do it. He's wrestled drunks in the city, and he's seen childbirth before. (Don't tell me "just get an epidural," I might smack you through cyberspace. ) I'm all for medical interventions and help when needed, but they are not always required and do have risks when used unnecessarily. And from experience, something as simple as helping a first time Mom relax can be reason enough to choose them, depending on the Mother. The benefits definitely outweighed the risks with my previous induction, and given the same set of circumstances, I would do that again. When used because they're needed the interventions outweigh the risks, and I am grateful for the availability.

Ok, anyway... enough ramblings. Really, I would rather be sleeping right now. Perhaps if I get into a crochet rhythm I'll stitch myself to sleep... and catch a couple of hours before Bear awakes, ready drink a glass of "mealk" and hit the floor running. Or twirling.