Tough

Warning:  Do not read this post if you were in any way expecting something cheerful, upbeat, or optimistic. 
Today's not that kind of day for me.

Since no one reads this except me anyway, I'm just going to explore my feelings for a few minutes.  Normally I don't like to talk a lot about how I'm feeling, because it makes me seem pathetic and troubled instead of confident, well-adjusted, and...well, normal.  But lately I just can't shake this pervasive apathy that seems to cover my whole life. 

I don't care about the leaves on our lawn.  Or the dead flowers in my window baskets.  Or the rocks all over the driveway that need to be swept back into the shrub beds.  I don't care that I don't have a wreath on my front door or pumpkins for my front steps, I don't care that there are weeds everywhere that need to be pulled or sprayed with Round-up - I don't even care about the beautiful, crisp, cool fall weather (which would usually be one of my favorite things). 

I can't find any enthusiasm for things I used to enjoy, like studying Spanish.  I can't make myself care about things I used to want to accomplish, like organizing all my photos or re-learning to play the piano.  When I think about my own personal interests besides raising my children and keeping my sweet husband happy, I can't come up with anything.  There's no joy in Mudville, folks.  Anyone know where it went?  I'd be really thrilled to have it back. 

I've been depressed before, and it's possible that I am again.  I know for sure that I don't want to go back on medication, though.  I don't want that artificial "even keel."  It makes me feel fake, and I'm nowhere near depressed enough to harm myself.  I can still function; I just don't care about anything.  I want my family to be happy and well taken care of, so I still do my best to run this household, but like I said, all the joy has done gone out of it.

Could the problem be pregnancy hormones?  Possibly.  Clinical depression?  Potentially.  Simple discontent? Maybe.  I've been reading a great blog lately about someone whose life seems so much happier and more special than mine, so maybe the devil is just getting me to nurture those covetous feelings.  Poor me, so-and-so has such a more interesting life.  Her kids are better behaved, her marriage is more passionate, she seems to truly enjoy her daily routine and look for the best in life, etc., etc., etc.  Discontent is the opposite of joy, that's for sure.  I could be just playing right into the enemy's hands by entertaining wrong thought patterns.  Perhaps I should count my blessings. 

The other thing I've been thinking about lately in regard to my seeming inability to feel deeply anymore, is my middle son's recent experience with a benign brain tumor and 16 months of chemo.  He's done with chemo now, the treatment was successful at stopping the tumor's growth, and his eyesight has even shown some slight improvement.  Technically, it looks like our "trial" is over for now.  I'm very thankful for that.  But the process, the whole experience was so painful and challenging to my faith in God.  I'll post more on that later; it's just too long to chronicle in this already-lengthy post.

As I sit here typing this, I can feel my unborn baby kicking.  It brings a small smile to my face.  I played basketball in the driveway with my youngest son this afternoon.  I had to force myself to go out there, but I did, and he had fun running around.  He's such an active boy; he needs lots of "outside time" each day or his energy gets to be too loud, too destructive, too rough for others.  He's four; need I say more?  Soon it will be time to pick up my older two kids from school, but first I'm going to play some more games with my little guy.  He loves me.  He tells me all the time, "I love you, Mommy."  Then he kisses my hand and hugs me around the neck.  He's pretty special and I'm a very blessed mama.