Adulting is Hard

Do you ever have days where you're like, "I can't even"? Because I'm having one of those. I'm so overwhelmed with life at the moment. My back is in a billion knots and I've gone to the chiropractor like 5 times now. Bubba will be leaving for college this fall, so obviously I'm worried he'll run out of money, not find a job, or really just not be able to adult. Because let's face it, adulting is hard. JP will be leaving for a church mission next month also. We have a million things to get on his list and hope his passport gets here in time (not likely because for over a month they've been in phase one of reopening and have over a million applications). I'm sad I won't see him for two years. And then he'll come home from his mission and move away to school. So I'll never see him, except hopefully he likes me enough to come home for holidays. Peanut was just diagnosed with celiac disease. After about 6 months of him living in the bathroom, he decided to eliminate gluten from his diet to see if he felt better and I finally thought to ask if he wanted to see the doctor. The pediatrician referred us to a gastro dr. No gluten was helping him feel better and she said we should do blood work. But guess what? You have to have gluten in your system. So, he had to go back on for three weeks and of course, was miserable again. Blood work came back positive for whatever indicates you carry the gene thingy to maybe have celiac. So he had to keep eating gluten until he had an endoscopy with biopsies to check for sure. A jillion dollars later, he for sure has celiac disease. He's six foot now and needs to gain weight, but finding stuff he likes is HARD! He's my pickiest eater-no fruit, no veg, no peanut butter, not even freaking potatoes! Basically, he likes meat and pizza, chips and noodles. I HATE cooking, and now I have to rework all the things I actually do cook to make sure everything in them is gluten free. Everything costs twice as much and he eats a crap ton of snacks. It's also fun to spend $7 on a loaf of bread for him to be like, "This one is nasty. Let's try a different brand." Coco is just about done with baseball. This was supposed to be our year for Little League World Series. We won State the last two years and would've totally gone to Regionals in San Bernardino and possibly on to Williamsport. Instead, they cancelled all baseball. So 12 yo broken hearts all around. Even my heart was broken. This was our family's last chance to go. Fortunately, because Butch is the most amazing Dad Coach ever, he found a bunch of tournaments for us to still participate in this summer. So at least our boys got to play some ball. But in addition to practices, Coco has had a baseball camp and hitting lessons weekly. I have to get him up for camp twice a week at 8:20 am so that's been a blast. And this week, with our final tournament of the year coming up, Butch has zero time to get everything for the amazing hiking trip he has planned for the boys next week. So, I'm in charge of getting all the hiking food, but even after going to three different grocery stores yesterday (in addition to taking JP to three stores for mission stuff and fly fishing stuff), they've all given me more things they want on the list. You're killing me, Smalls. Anyone getting why my back is jacked up? Also, only one thing is even kind of sort of helping my arthritis and I have to apply it multiple times a day and most days wear super attractive wrist braces. And how do you beard wives deal with your husband trimming his beard and getting little beard hairs EVERYWHERE? At least when my stupid long hair sheds I can gather it in a massive hairball and chuck it in the garbage. Awesome. Great. I'm fine. Everything is fine.

It's time to be real people. I've openly talked about my bipolar depression before, but I feel a need to write about it today. The last couple of days have been what I call "low days". That's my way of telling my husband that things will most likely not get done around the house. Though I am getting better about forcing myself to run errands or do a few loads of laundry, even though I really just want to crawl in bed and sleep. Some days it's all I can do to function. And I take medication daily so imagine if I didn't. It's supposed to help with the chemical imbalance in my brain so that I have "normal" highs and lows. Honestly, if I could be guaranteed that I would be manic most of the time, I probably wouldn't take medication. Unfortunately, without medication, I mostly suffer from the depression part. Most of the time I'm okay. But then there are days like yesterday and today where I feel sucky for no reason. That's one thing I think is difficult for people who don't suffer from mental illness to understand. They think there needs to be a reason you are depressed or have anxiety. Like, what happened and how can you fix it? I wish that were the case. But I have no reason. I just feel sucky. Or if I don't feel like I am in control of a situation, I have a panic attack and lose my crap. The sun was out yesterday and it was warm, so I took my laptop in the backyard and edited my latest book. That does make me feel good, but I still don't want to do anything else. I have to actually force myself to do stuff. Today I'm editing and writing a bit too, but I'm stuck on the conflict in the story.

Anyway, in my eyes, mental health is just as important, if not more so, than your physical health. In fact, it can affect your physical health. I am open about my disease because some people out there are ashamed of their mental health issues. Some people might not realize they even have an issue. The more we talk about it, the more people can seek help. I was only diagnosed about nine years ago. When the doctor explained it to me and gave me my diagnosis, I was like, "Holy crap, my whole life I've been sick and thought I was just seriously messed up and unloveable." I thought it was just my personality. When I finally had a name for it, I felt so much relief. I have a child who was diagnosed a couple of years ago with bipolar depression and ADHD. He has improved much since he has been taking medication. Luckily, I was able to recognize the signs because of my own diagnosis. I know teens have many ups and downs, but if you are concerned at all, talk to your child. Sometimes they aren't huge on talking, but make them talk to you. Are they isolating themselves? Are their moods more extreme? Do they get super chatty and spastic and then seem so low they won't leave the house or their room? Only six percent of children with a parent with bipolar disorder will actually develop the disease, but it's better to be vigilant in my opinion. But lucky me, my dad and brother both suffer and now I've passed it on to my child.

But I will not be ashamed. I will not hide from it. It is who God created me to be and it's not in my control. It has made me stronger. I know I can do hard things. I know someday when I leave this life, my body will be made perfect, that includes my broken brain. And just because my brain is broken, does not mean I am broken. It does not mean I am not worthy of love. It does not mean I don't belong. And so, I am here for you people. I got you. I feel you. I understand you. And you are great just the way you are, broken brain and all.