Sunday, January 19, 2020

Where did she go?

I haven't blogged about running since the end of 2017. You may have wondered, "Where did she go?" I have been wondering that lately myself.

Today I ran the Carlsbad 5k in CA. Usually I would sign up for the half marathon, or perhaps even the full, but I haven't been running as much lately and I knew when I signed up for this race last year I may not be ready to run a half. I was right.

2018 I stopped blogging, I just didn't have anything to say anymore. And 2019 mentally I took a nose dive. 2020 I am trying to pull out of this downward spiral.

The lady in the photo is not the same runner she was 4 years ago, or even 3 years ago, when she was at her peak. No she is very different now.

What happened? Well, a few major life events in 2018. I was laid off at work, right in the midst of a move. We were putting up our house for sale and moving into my in-law's house, to combine households and help each other out more. We had just finished doing some remodeling projects in our old house, and now here we were moving and diving into more remodeling projects. I guess it was a blessing that I got laid off that day, in a strange sort of way. It was the last day of school for my kids, so I went to their school and watched them play games and say goodbye to their buddies for the Summer. By God's grace I found a new job within a week of being laid off, and started a couple weeks later. This gave me time to help do some major moving of our belongings from one house to the other. (The in-law's house was only two houses down, by the way. So we didn't have to go far.)

While this isn't a bad thing, any change is stressful on a person. Add to this major move some health problems that my Dad was going through, and you add another layer of stress. He was in and out of the hospital and had a lot of ER visits that Summer. Eventually things settled down, and he is okay. But my Dad has dementia, and that will never go away. The stress of caring for him still weighs heavily on my shoulders. He doesn't live with us (we are kind of packed with our two kids and the in-laws already). But even so, the care taking and major decision making sits on my shoulders. My only other living immediate family member is my brother, and he lives on the East Coast. About as far away from me as one can get. While his counsel is wise and much appreciated, he isn't here to physically take on any part of our Dad's care. I do have the help of my Dad's roommates. And I am thankful for all they do. But watching my Dad being changed by dementia, and losing his ability to care for himself... all of that causes me to be sad and depressed. I know I shouldn't let it, but it does.

Then you add on the layer of stress of losing a job, and starting a new one. All while living through a major remodel of the NEW house. While we already just lived through the remodel of our OLD house. It's not easy to live in a house while the kitchen is torn apart. Or to be displaced in different bedrooms while other bedrooms are being worked on. For almost a year my daughter and son shared a room. At first they thought it was fun and exciting. Eventually they just annoyed each other to death and couldn't wait for their own space again! My husband and I weren't even in our own soon to be Master Bedroom, with its newly remodeled Master Bathroom yet! Yes, these were blessings. And we signed up for all of this. But it put a lot of stress on my life.

I see it all as layers. Layer upon layer of stress. First the remodel layer, then the sale of our house, then getting laid off, then the layer of moving and looking for a new job, then learning a new job, and living through another remodel. Add to that the care taking layer, and the worry I carry regarding my Dad's dementia and his precarious future. Soon I wasn't working out as much and choosing a full night's sleep over getting up early to hit the pavement for a run, or going to the gym. I believe sleep is very important, but so is exercise. But I just didn't have the energy for it all. So I picked rest as my priority.

2019 came along and the remodeling was over. Thank goodness. I could breathe easier, you would think. But something was still lingering over me. I was consumed by another layer, grief. Anniversaries of family member's deaths, and the anniversary of a very dark moment in my life all pulled me down. I typically handle these months okay, but this year was not good. 2019 started in grief, and ended in grief.

And then I lost my job... again! In November 2019, right before Christmas. This time it took a month to find a new job. I am grateful it didn't take longer, don't get me wrong! But let's just say its not the time of year one wants to be out of a job. (I am very blessed by my new job. And some very good things have come out of it already. But learning new skills and change is always stressful, even if good... like I said.)

What I did start doing near the end of 2019 was seek out professional help. I joke with the title of this blog, "I am only half crazy," but there is some truth to that statement. My Mother was severely bi-polar, and it runs in my family. While I don't have the manic mood swings that she had, I do have the depressive episodes. And for several years running was enough to manage it. But, as I said, sleep was becoming my priority over getting up and running or working out. My mental health was compromised, and all these layers of stress upon stress, and then the final blows of the grief came over me, and I just couldn't hold myself together anymore. My doctor said I may have to stay on meds for the rest of my life this time (instead of getting off them due to my training for running marathons, and how that made me feel).

While it was nice to be able to say running saved my sanity, and to be off medication, I have to say I am okay with being on meds again. I always told people that if I had to go back on meds I would. And I always encouraged others to stay on their medication, as prescribed by their doctor. I witnessed first hand how medication helped my Mom stay sane and out of the mental hospital. I know its important.

So now here I am. Overweight and under exercised. Mentally fragile and ready for this season to be over with. This 5k was a struggle. It was a struggle for me to decide to go. It was a struggle to run it. It was a struggle to find the will to travel to Carlsbad and do the thing I signed up to do. Luckily I had a friend that had signed up to do the half and we decided to share a hotel room together before the race. If it wasn't for her I am sure I would have just let it go. Everything seems so difficult to do these days.

I am writing this hoping this will get me going again. Give me purpose. Give me a reason to run and blog again. I also hope this helps others seek out help too. Life is full of twists and turns, ups and downs. If you need help, get it. There is no shame in needing help or needing medication. Just do it. You will feel better.





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