Heartsick

Warning: this is a completely self-indulgent post re: my emotional state at this particular moment in time.  It helps to write.  Perhaps it helps you to read.
What went back to Target today


In the interests of full disclosure--I'm on medication for depression and anxiety.  Have been for a number of years and in retrospect, should have been on for a number of years before that. ( I come by it honestly, I think.  Both parents exhibited multiple symptoms of depression and anxiety.  Back in the day, mental health issues were not treated with the degree of compassion they are today.)  For me, some days and in certain circumstances, the drugs do their prescribed job and life is good.  Other days, the drugs do their prescribed job but the day and certain circumstances overwhelm.  I have a long list of coping mechanisms that are usually quite effective in diminishing the sad or angry or frustrated or overwhelmed feelings.

This is the time of our Florida sojourn when the kids and grands would be coming.  Whenever I've seen a little cutie playing in the sand or out to dinner with their parents and grandparents, I've imagined my own grands in that position.  On dark, dreary Minnesota days before we're here, a coping mechanism is to visualize the grands pouring out of the tram, racing into my waiting arms at Tampa International, saying, "Grandma!  Grandma!"  

Pity party.  They're not coming.  And I am heartsick--at least for this particular moment in time.

Today I took back all the kid and baby related items I had gleefully loaded into my sopping wet from disinfectant Target cart 10 days ago.  Heartsick.  I had to get them out of the house.  When I first brought them home, it brought me great joy to conjure up how Jackson and Ethan and Beau and Sloane and Georgia would use the floaties to jump into the pool.  The competent swimmer Millie with her goggles on.  The babies, Jameson and Ace, bobbing in the floation device adorned with a whale.  "Grandma!  Grandma!  I want to show you something!  Watchmewatchmewatchme!"  I love slathering them with sunscreen before we head for the beach.  Seeing them challenge the waves and screech in delight at their first mouthful of salt water.  Having dinner with all those sunkissed faces around the table.

So, for the first time, I decided not to push back the sadness which has been burbling up so many times during what is a never ending litany of awful news.  I sobbed, SOBBED, all the way to Target.  I did choke back the tears as I handed over the bags at the returns counter, instead using the silver lining coping mechanism.  When the clerk asked for the receipt, I felt quite crafty because I had the foresight to save it.  My usual MO is to crumple up the receipt and deposit it in the recycle bin on my way out of the store.

I feel better.  Thank you.

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