Adequate

I have had this post on my mind for quite a while. I know I am always very honest (yes, even too honest at times) about things that I am feeling, or things that have been going on in our lives. But, this one is a tough one for me to be honest about. When I've written other posts, it is incredibly nerve wracking for me to hit "Publish", and then walk away, and hope that people have understood what I was trying to say, through my tears that I cried writing it. For this, however, I hope I can allow myself to be honest, and maybe even find some of my own clarity, inspiration and answers to what I've been feeling.

in·ad·e·quate

inˈadikwət/

adjective

1.  lacking the quality or quantity required; insufficient for a purpose.

Inadequate would be the word I would describe myself as, if I was asked. I look at other people, and see, and read what they are going through, and how they are coping, and I compare myself to them. I kind of, gauge how I am doing, comparative to them. Is that healthy? Probably not. But, I think, if you think about it, we all do that. We all compare ourselves to someone else, and not always in a competitive way, but in a way of realizing what path we should, or might want to, be on.

Before losing Ellie, I would still, at times, describe myself, in one word as "inadequate". I felt insufficient for a purpose. However, I was building my confidence up. I had started walking, and after about 6 months, I was keeping up a really good pace, almost running really. Just before I found out I was pregnant with Ellie, I mean the week before, I had decided to start running half of the time, just to see how far I could go, or what I could do. I was so surprised by my own will power, and my own drive and determination to push myself. I had a walking buddy, but she couldn't go as often as I would've liked, so I went without her a lot of the times (Sorry Amy!! Love you!!). I looked forward to those nights where I would give myself a goal of 8 laps around the park, which would equal to be about 7 miles, and then I would do it, and I would always just want to go faster, and see how fast I could go. I know it sounds stupid, but I was proud of myself! I'm not an athletic, active type person. And, I'm sometimes not a self motivating person, so this really was surprising to me, and gave me so much hope, and confidence for myself. 

After I lost Ellie, I tried hard to push myself again. It was hard at first. Mix depression, being out of shape, and a complete lack of self worth together, and you don't have a great recipe for success when it comes to any sort of work out regime. But, I did it! This time, I had a lot of help from my sweet Amy, but I still did it! And you know what? That confidence was starting to get built up again. It wasn't lost. It was just buried way deep down. However, it all stopped again when I got pregnant with Elliott.

Something changed when I had Elliott. I wanted to be home all of the time with him. I didn't want anyone else watching him. I wanted to soak him up, and just hold him tight. I lost all motivation to do anything for myself. It became all about my family, and what does my family need. If I could squeeze in something tiny for myself, then I would, but even that was difficult to do. Allan always tried to make sure that he forced me out of the house whenever Amy could walk with me, and whenever a friend was trying to get together with me. 

I clung hard to my friends, and a lot of my family these last few years. They have been my sanity, my stability, my love, my happiness, my confidence........they have been everything to me. But, these years later, my friends can't be there anymore, like they were. My family needs to work on their own things, and keep moving forward. And I need to let them go. I don't mean that I need to cut them from my life, but I need to stop using them as a crutch for things. But that's scary!

I started realizing that the time to let go, and stand on my own was coming when Amy told me that she was thinking about going back to school to become a Nurse Practitioner. I knew that meant that I would see her a lot less, and even talk to her a ton less. But, I didn't want to let go just then. Amy, my sister, Amanda and Heather, have become a huge support for me. They have been my crutches. Those long even sweat fests we called walking, became my outlet, my therapy sessions, and I think a bit of the same for her. I was scared to let those chats go. I tried to convince her that maybe this isn't a good time for me....I mean her! HAHA! But, all in all, I did try to push her to go, because I knew she could do it and be amazing! After that, what I knew would happen, did happen. We just weren't able to spend the time we used to together, and rightfully so! That's a nutty schedule that would give me ulcers. I am not sure how she is doing it, but I couldn't be more proud of anyone! We still do what we can, but it's not the same. 

A few other things happened, that really cinched it for me, though. My other friend moved to the midwest.......can you call it the midwest Heather? I don't know. Then my other friend, Amanda, moved away to Salt Lake City. Then my husband got a new job, and started traveling a ton more. I mean 3-5 days a week. I was alone.......like, really alone. And being alone for me is just terrible. Around December, of 2012, I started to see a therapist, because my husband got concerned about my thoughts and my actions. He really should've been concerned. HA! I saw this therapist for 4 months, with no progress. I didn't realize that I wasn't getting what I needed until I saw how my husband was changing himself working with his therapist. Finally, we decided that I wouldn't see my therapist anymore. That was so hard for me. I just wanted to feel like someone was there. I wanted to feel like I wasn't battling life, alone. I felt like no one cared, and now I'm paying someone to care, and they don't care either! Bring on the third round of depression!

Recently, I've been reading about my friends having these huge goals, and actually accomplishing them! They have picked up interesting hobbies, and have done so well, that they are now marketing their items! I have read about friends, who have never been runners, running marathons, and loving it so much! I have read about friends picking up photography, and become a sensation at it! I actually felt jealous of these women. I have quilting, and I LOVE it, but I never have time for. I have photography, that I love so much, but I don't have the equipment I want for it, and again, no time for it. I love to read, even (I bet no one saw that one coming), but who has a minute to sit down and read a book with 4 kids screaming in your ear, and destroying the house?! I used to look at these women and almost think bad about them, because I thought they were taking time away from their families to do these hobbies! I felt, after having Elliott, that my family needed everything first, and whatever was left over I could use, or I could pile on a bit extra for the kids. I usually did extra for the kids. And what's more important? A marathon, or your kids? Well, I've just learned for myself that answer..........the marathon. (I will let that marinate for a second that I just said that..........ok. Ready?)

Why is a hobby more important than your kids? It's not. But, if you have the circumstances, like, your husband is wanting you to go, and is supportive of you doing this, and is willing to hang with the kids while you do this, THEN GO RUN! Why? I did learn one thing in therapy. The goal of anti-depressants that are prescribed to you, among other thing, is to promote endorphins. When I am depressed, I am not producing very many, if any. When you work out, you actually produce those endorphin's. When you do, you start to feel more confident, a sense of happiness, and pride. For some, physical activity will not always compensate, and meds are necessary. But for others, sometimes that does the trick! I have been thinking of going back to therapy, and Amy has even said that maybe I need to be back on my meds. I have been thinking about my theory of how this works, as stated previously, and thought, "Hmm, maybe I am not looking down at these people who are accomplishing these amazing things. Maybe I am jealous. And why am I jealous? I can do that!" I realized that when I was walking before, 4-5 days a week, 6-7 miles at a time, I was so happy! I was proud of myself, I had confidence, I knew I could do hard things, and be just fine! And I was so much more willing to try other things, like hikes that I would never have gone on, or try new foods (that's a big deal for me), or just be excited about life. I was even more patient with my kids, and more organized with our household.

If anything, I am a doer. I don't like to think about things forever, and have no action. I can't stand that. So, I decided to create my own therapy. I have been thinking about going back to therapy, and back on meds, but I wanted to try this first. So, I chose the activity I am most afraid of. No, not quitting Dr. Pepper. That's crazy talk. I chose running. I am scared to death of running. I always have been. It's hard. It hurts. And, I am petrified to fail. So.......running it is. I went online, and I looked up a good way to get started with running. Like a routine. I found the one by Women's Health, http://www.womenshealthmag.com/fitness/become-a-runner, and I decided that that night would be my first night. So, off I went. I did it! I hurt, and I cussed. But I did it. I decided I would try it for a month, and see how it goes. If I still feel like I need help, then I will be on the couch of that therapist, taking the meds as long as they need me to, to get myself right. But.......why not try this way first?!

I want to do something hard. I want to make myself proud of me again. I want to prove to myself that I can do hard things, and that I will be just fine. I may even be successful. But, if I decide that I don't like it after a month, then I can still be proud of myself, because not only did I face my fear, and I did it......I didn't quit. So I didn't fail. I'm not training for a marathon. I don't need that accomplishment right now. I'm training for true success. I am training myself to feel good about myself again. I am in training to feel confidence, pride, worthiness, and accomplished. I am training myself, to feel my husbands arms around me, telling me, "I'm really proud of you for doing this. You did well." I am in training to change my life.

I am tired of being jealous of others and their accomplishments. I am tired of feeling like I can't do something. I am tired of hiding behind my kids, and saying I can't do something, because my kids come first. They always will come first, but sometimes, I have to make myself happy, and work on myself. It's funny, but true when they say, "If mama aint happy, aint nobody happy". Let me tell you, no one is happy right now......but I'm hoping to change that, starting with myself. I am tired of feeling inadequate. I can work hard, and I can do hard things. I have proven that. Now, I have to prove that I can rise above hard things, and push myself to do great things. 

I am adequate. God has given me all of the tools that I need. He has given me all of the guidance, love, support, friendship and family that I need to do anything that I want. I just have to drop my pride, and take advantage of the amazing blessings that He has given me. I can do this........I think. HA! Nope. I can do this.