Ups and Downs and In-Betweens

I don't know if you realise this, but making new friends as an adult is HARD. Especially once you're into your 30s. Interests have changed and/or blossomed, and it's a little less likely to find a friend that you just click with despite having nothing in common. Throw in some kids and a marriage or a long term relationship, and that makes everything so much more difficult.

One of my online mom friends has been campaigning to set me up on a mom-date with one of her friends who moved out here. She had mentioned this woman several times before, but it was only after I was having a really bummy day that she took the initiative and sent this woman my information. And I'm grateful because I feel like we definitely could be friends going forward.

The hardest part for me is that I'm so much better online or via text. I'm so awkward in person, never quite knowing if I'm crossing a line with my sarcasm or cussing. When I am able to edit myself, that's almost better.

Now what does that tell you? That I'd prefer to edit or censor myself rather than be real? Maybe I really should try to get in with a psychologist/psychiatrist. Get them to Freud me up and figure out just what is so broken in my brain that I don't like being organic.

Am I even using that phrase correctly?

This week has been both good and bad. Mr. M is teething and we're all STILL sick from whatever plague it is that has taken us over. So he's been waking up at night again, Miss O needs more sleep but she just won't take it, and both T and I are coughing and sniffling and phlegming all over. It's just a great place, this house of sickness.

I had a really horrible realization this week, and I honestly don't know how to tell T about it. We were having our annual family pictures done on Wednesday, and they just weren't going as planned. Mr. M was hungry but there was nowhere around that was open for us to heat up his bottle. Plus he was tired so he just didn't want to eat somewhere new. Miss O was refusing to smile except when her cousin (our photographer is our sister-in-law) was in the pictures with her. T was just getting so frustrated about everything - and I mean EVERYTHING - and I was getting terribly embarrassed by how he was reacting.

We were in the car on our way home and he says to me "I hate pictures. Have I told you how much I hate pictures?" and I just kind of gave him a side-eyed look and say "Yes. Your hatred of pictures is noted, seeing as you tell me every single time that I mention pictures how much you hate them". And then it hit me. When is the last time he's said that he likes something? When is the last time he was excited about something that involved all of us? When did he last offer me a compliment or a nice comment in general? And all of these questions boiled down to - If he hates/doesn't like so much stuff in his life, when is it going to come to him hating/not liking me? When will I evoke the same feelings as pictures?

I mentioned this to the friend I was talking about above, and she just straight up said that T loves me. End of story. But I can't help having this tiny fear in the back of my head that it's only a matter of time. And that's terrifying to me.

What Now?

Apathetic. It's a word that I've always used to describe other people, like my brother, but never for me. I've always been kind of all over the emotional scale, highs and lows and rarely the in-betweens.

But for some reason, in my journey with depression and anxiety and all of those fun things, apathy has reared its head.

It's not that I'm apathetic towards everything. Far from it, in fact. I get excited about things, I get sad about things, I get really happy about things. But when it comes to thinking about myself, I just don't care. When did I last shower? Who knows, and who cares because it's not like I ever leave the house. Do I look like a hot mess? Probably, but no one will judge and if they do I just don't care.

I spent two solid days in thermals from Old Navy because oh well. Every time I looked in the mirror, in the loose and unflattering lounge wear, I just didn't care. My kids aren't going to tell me I smell; my husband isn't going to comment on it, just to be polite. And let's be honest - I see him for roughly an hour or two on weekdays. He leaves for work before we wake up, and gets home shortly before bedtime.

I know that I need to kick this apathy. My bestie has been great, suggesting things to help me kick my own ass. Hopefully tomorrow the kids and I will get out for a walk. Even just a short one. Something to get us out of the house, and kick me out of this funk.

I'm not going to hold my breath though.