TGIF?? Well Yes and No.



You see this doodle? I did this while on the phone
with my sister this evening. I don't think it takes
a therapist to see through this one.



I feel like a sinking ship.





It is Friday evening and I should be happy.  And I am, I guess. 

O.K. so I'm not, but it is because I came home to an empty house. I walked through the door and the silence quickly began to smother me. This silence is more than just quietness, and it is certainly not peaceful. Most of us enjoy a tranquil home, especially when the day is over and we are all snuggled contently into bed.  This silence is an absence of noise, the background noise that is created by life's energy. It is emptiness.

In an effort to fill the void, I went outside to tackle some yard work. A little activity to get my heart pumping and start those fee-good endorphins flowing would be good for me. Although only temporarily, my efforts did work. During those couple of hours, I was too busy to notice I was alone. Unfortunately, the house was still as quiet and empty when I came back in at dusk. It was dark too, because I forgot to turn any lights on earlier.

You would think that I would be used to it by now. Three nights a week for five years. Yet, it seems to be getting worse. As horrible as this sounds, atleast when he was little I appreciated (needed?) the hands free nights to go to the grocery store, do laundry, mow the yard., etc., etc. Now that he is older, there is nothing that I can't do while he is here. It's not difficult to run in the store for a couple of things, or to quickly mow the grass while he is playing a game or watching a movie. It's hard to be so "appreciative" of the time, when I don't really need it.

When I come home on nights like this, it takes all the strength I can gather to keep from going straight to bed and crying myself to sleep. Its all I feel like doing because the vacantness I feel inside hurts too much to bear.

So it's Friday night and all I want is my baby. I want to hold him and talk to him. I want to watch his uber expressive face as he tells me about the snake he "helped" kill today. I want to watch him get excited when he completes a new level on whatever game he is playing on the wii. I want him to curl up in my lap while I read the next chapter of Harry Potter to him. I want to be the one that gives him his medicine at night, and I want to be the one who he wakes up if he has a bad dream.  I need to know he is home and he is safe.

I worry so much how all of this effects him. It would ease my mind to know that he knew and understood that the reason he is not here with me is NOT because I don't want him to be, but because his Dad loves him too.  I love him so much that I would spend every minute with him if it were possible. Yet, it is because I love him that it is important to me for him spend so much time with his Dad. And his brothers. I believe family is important.

I have great friends and a healthy, active social life. I'm not a recluse and I'm not trying to live vicariously through my child. I'm just a mother who loves her son. He is the only one I'll ever have and I'm just trying my best not to muck it up.

Except I do feel that way. I'm not sure what is going on with me. Whatever the cause, whether it is some lingering residue of my seasonal affective disorder, lack of physical activity, too much stress, poor diet or hormonal, I've got to get it under control. (Truthfully, I'd say it's a combination of all.) I can't keep riding this emotional roller coaster.