A Camping We Go

We tried to go camping last weekend. Emphasize tried there. It ended up with just about every single member of my family in tears as Squirt ran around the tent in circles and would not lay down. SweetPea followed his lead and likewise ran around the tent. And they jumped and bounced on the air mattress. And then Munchkin and Arty started to cry as the time crawled towards 11:00 and no one could get any sleep and they were crying, "I'm tired, I want to sleep!"
But dear little Squirt just becomes more and more hyper and wound up the more overtired he becomes and so we could not get him to settle down no matter what we tried. Zig ended up taking him to the car and strapping him in his carseat so he would stop moving (have I mentioned Squirt has some sensory issues and behavior problems - um, yeah - he does). And I was left alone in the tent with Munchkin and SweetPea on the air mattress with me. Which meant that I kept getting kicked and pushed to the very edge where the air pressure wasn't very good. And I was irrationally terrified of bears coming to attack us (it has happened in our area - although rare, it does happen). So I couldn't sleep. And I didn't even have a flashlight in the tent. And Arty kept waking up and walking around the tent in a daze, mumbling sleepily, and I was afraid that he would get confused and pee in a corner or something. And then around 3 or so, the temp dropped drastically and I was worried Sweetpea was going to get cold. So I crawled around the tent feeling around for another sleeping bag to throw over us (we were sharing just a blanket since it wasn't that cold when we started the whole "going to bed" idea). And I cried. Because I was tired. And I knew I was going to have to admit defeat (we had paid for 2 nights at the campground, and I knew we were going to end up leaving before then). And I didn't understand why other people can take their families camping and have fun and why every single fun thing I try to do ends up in disaster. And I felt sorry for myself. And so tired. I think I got about an hour of sleep total.

The next morning we went for a small hike. Sweetpea fell down and scraped her knee. Squirt tripped over a tree branch and scratched his arm. And we were all so sleep-deprived and grumpy, we came back to the campsite, packed up, and left for home. With more tears from the backseat about "why can't we stay? why do we have to go home?" etc.

So, in my family-oriented blog, I tried to be more positive because I get tired of sounding like I complain all the time and blah blah blah. But over here in this blog, I feel no such inhibitions and I can be as negative as I feel like! (that's what you would expect from a depression blog, right?)

So. We will not be going camping again for a long long while.
But at least we took some nice pictures.

Cause and Effect

Sometimes it's hard to tease out what might be contributing to the causes of my depression and what is just a manifestation of symptoms of my depression.

I remember hearing a man speak years ago at a church women's group function. I can't even remember what the topic was exactly, but he was talking a little bit about his experience as a counselor in the military (also unclear is how exactly he was even qualified to act in the capacity as a mental health professional since he did not appear to have any sort of real background in the field - I guess military is weird that way, they just train you "on the job." I really don't know). But anyway, he started to say something about how he never met with any depressed individual who was not also self-centered and selfish. And I think he was trying to make the point that this was a cause of their depression and that if maybe we strive to get outside of ourselves and think of others more than we can kind of stave off depression. Hmph.

But my blood began to boil and I couldn't help but think that this guy understood absolutely nothing about depression or what a depressed person goes through. It could be just me, but it is my understanding that being a little self-consumed is a symptom of depression. It is a sign that things are not going well. Sometimes the troops have to call out "retreat!" just to be able to survive. It is certainly difficult to get out and serve others when you can't even get out of bed. It is hard not to feel (or appear) a little selfish when you can't accomplish a fraction of what a "normal" person could. When you are just trying to do whatever it takes to get through the day. When all of your strength and resources are consumed in taking breath after breath and trying not to crumble and collapse.

Can anyone who hasn't been there ever really understand what it's like?

I have since often gone through some other cycles of thought, trying to figure out cause and effect, which things are causes and which are symptoms.

Such as:

Am I depressed because my house is a mess, or is my house a mess because I am depressed?

Am I depressed because I am overweight, or overweight because I'm depressed?

Do I deal with depression because my family was dysfunctional, or was my family dysfunctional because we all had depression?

Am I depressed because I have crazy disobedient children, or are my children crazy and disobedient because I have depression?

The same thing happens when people try to give suggestions on how to feel better. If only you exercised, or sat in the sun, or did this that or the other. And sometimes I think, well, yes. If I weren't depressed, all of those things would be simple to do and I probably would feel better for doing them consistently. But because of my depression, sometimes doing anything is too difficult. It's a weird whirlpool cycle. Chicken or the egg. Which came first, a biological depression, or lifestyle that led to it?? Sometimes I decide that it really doesn't matter what caused it. I just have to deal with what it is. And my cognitive behaviorist therapist that I saw for awhile would probably agree with that. But then other times, I would like to know how it all started, and when and why. I'd like to go back through it all and figure it out. Because maybe knowing the cause and effect would be helpful in figuring out how to fix it. Maybe understanding it would help me heal.

Why My Family is Crazy

As I mentioned before, I had all of my family in town a couple weeks ago for my brother's wedding. 2 of my sisters and my dad came from 3 different states (ranging coast to coast). My brother and other sister and mom live in the same state as I do. So it's not often that we are all together. And it seems that it always turns into a rather stressful event.

After it was all said and done, my youngest sister, who lives here, emailed me and in exasperation asked why we can't have these get-togethers without all this stress and break-downs and problems.

Why, indeed.

I'd like to know.

I didn't know what to say, so I never replied to her question, but I have been mulling it over and trying to figure it out myself. Why does our family seem to be wrought with conflict, tension, and stress?? And do families actually exist where they get together like this without problems??

Here are some of the reasons I've come up with. I guess the true root of the problem could be any or all of these, or none. Who knows.

First, my parents argued a lot. They had some pretty significant and deep-seated religious differences which caused a lot of problems. My dad was unfaithful. And so on and so on. Until they finally divorced when I was 22. So we didn't really have very good role-models of healthy communication, conflict resolution, and all of that kind of stuff.

Second, we have a family history of mental illness. My uncle is schizophrenic. Both of my parents have been treated for depression. My mom's stems from childhood sexual abuse (although I think genetics played a role as well). And my dad's depression was a result of the divorce, primarily circumstantial. And, for whatever reason, my sister and I have both been treated for depression. I've also been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. And, although I don't know if any of my other siblings have ever been officially diagnosed, it seems clear to me that some of them could definitely benefit from treatment, as well.

Third, everyone who comes from out of state to visit seem to come with their own agenda of what they want to do while they are here. And it doesn't always correlate very well with what the other's want to do. And yet, there is an overriding feeling that we ought to do things together. But no one wants to compromise their own desires. And it creates conflict.

Fourth, for me personally, I feel a lot of pressure because my dad typically stays at my house, because I have more extra space. And can't afford a rental car. But we live about an hour away from the other family members. So I feel like I need to accomodate him and his desire to be with everyone else since he doesn't see them very often, but it ends up being a lot of driving for me, etc. Especially because I have young kids, who are not always very flexible in their schedules of eating, sleeping, etc.

Which leads to reason #5, which is that I am the only one of my siblings who has young kids. My sister has a 12 yr old (my oldest is 9) - but he doesn't always come along. This particular trip, I was the only one with kids. Period. Which makes me feel a little left out and misunderstood. No one can really understand the strain of trying to do a lot of activities with 4 young kids who has not been there themselves. They really just don't get it. So that is hard on me.

And then, number 6, there is pressure to get along since we aren't all together very often, which often backfires. And one sister keeps telling the rest not to worry and stress so much, even though she tends to be high-strung and stress everybody else out. I just try to be flexible and accomodating to the point where I snap and lose it. And we aren't as open as we could be about the depression issues - so I feel like I need to put on a better face for them all. And prove that I am a good mom - since I am the only one crazy enough to have 4 kids and be a stay at home mom. Or something.

Anyway - I don't know what it is. Maybe we just need to accept that it will be a crazy and stressful event to all get together. Maybe it's unavoidable. Maybe we need to not even try to get together and all do things together because we are all too different and have different priorities and agendas. Maybe we should give up. Or maybe we should try to work harder at building relationships at other times. In less stressful circumstances. Maybe we could all be a little more understanding and forgiving when someone flips out and loses it. Maybe a family of 5 kids and divorced parents can be nothing if not complicated.

I just wanted my own family to be different. I want my kids to like each other when they grow up. And to have fun together.
Is is possible? Do you think?

Not sure what to write

Well, it's been a busy week. I had family in town for my brother's wedding. My dad stayed with me at my house. Then I had 2 sisters from across the country visiting and staying at different places. And I felt like I had to shuttle my dad to different places to visit different people and have fun things to do and be involved in all the goings-on. And with my 4 little kids, all the running around messed up naps and bedtimes and general order of our lives. So it was exhausting and stressful. The last day that my dad was here (this past Wed), I started losing it. Yelling at my kids, breaking down into tears. And I felt terrible about it. Usually I can keep things together in front of other people. Or at least I can try. But I just couldn't hold it together any longer. I felt embarrassed and ashamed that he would see what a terrible mother I am. I am often afraid of what my dad thinks anyhow. He does not offer much praise. He can be critical and judgmental and we have not always had the best relationship. And I just felt like such a failure to not be able to maintain any semblance of control with him still here.

And the rest of this week has not improved much. I am not doing very well.
So I have not been blogging.

Someone at the wedding asked me if I was pregnant. And I am not. It is taking me some time to get over it. I couldn't bring myself to wear the dress I had on again to church today. I am feeling even worse about my appearance and my weight. And some of my worst fears seem to be not very far from reality. I mean, really, would she have asked if I was pregnant if I did not look rather apparently pregnant??? Sobering, distressing, depressing thought. And then feeling depressed about it is not a very conducive frame of mind to actually do anything about it. I feel even less energetic and more sluggish and tired. And so we start on the slippery slope. And down we go. Again. And again.

I left the house today and went for a walk (without telling my husband or kids where I was going). That was a mistake. But I just had to get out. I was afraid I would hurt someone. And sometimes I can't decide if it would be more harmful to stay with my kids and yell and lose it (which they don't deserve) or to leave (even temporarily) and have them feel confused and abandoned and worried. I think they know that something is wrong. But I don't think they have any comprehension of what it could be.
Anyway - the thought occurred to me on this walk that I'm sure anyone would be offended by being asked if they are pregnant when they are not. It's not just me, is it? So maybe I shouldn't feel so bad for feeling bad about it.

I just wish there were something I could feel good about. Something I could hope for. Something I am succeeding at. Because every place I look, every facet of my life, every role I fill, every corner, feels like a failure. There is no hidden spot. No shadow or glimmer or spark. No speck.

And that's where I am tonight.
I'm hoping I get through tomorrow. And this next week. And then start again. And try again. And again and again.