Friday, November 14, 2014


The struggle is real. That's a phrase that kids (at least my kids) are throwing around these days.  This last little while it's been pretty true to life for me.

The struggle is real.

I have been struggling with a deep down sadness.  A feeling that is relatively foreign to me.  In general I am, or have been, a fairly upbeat, happy person and I have noticed over the past few years a steady decline in my outlook on life.  And I am unsure why.

I don't even really want to write about it but who knows, maybe it will help to put some of it out there.

Wednesday was a pretty low day.  We have been considering selling our house and moving to a larger home.  I had even begun packing up the "craft/junk" room.  We also had our house and a storage shed painted, and were looking to do some other "fix it up" projects in preparation to sell.

To be honest with you I never thought we would move.  I grew up a block and a half away from where we live now.  We did have plans to build on to our home when my mom moved in with us.  It looked like we would be adding on to our home fairly quickly and that would make things more comfortable for everyone.  We planned on installing a walk-in tub for my mom and I had "drawn up" some plans of what I felt would work to give us the extra space that we would need.  After getting excited about the prospect of this happening sooner rather than later, we found that financially it would be better for us to do it later rather than sooner.  Plans for an addition were pushed four years out.

I know that doesn't seem like a long time, four years, big deal!  But for me, it was. I have wanted to add on for a long time and Tyran never really was on board, finally he was.  Mom was moving in our house is small on space as it is.  I was very angry and sad and I cried.

It ended up being a good thing because we would have been in the middle of everything, or at least at the very beginning when my mom passed away.

With the death of my mom I felt something shift inside.  Something that said "It's time to move on." So I suggested to Ty that we look into buying something bigger instead of doing the addition. I was both excited and scared at this prospect, but more excited.  Our home isn't very large and I was looking forward to getting into a larger place. So were the kids (I haven't had the chance to tell them yet and I am not looking forward to it.)

It wasn't like we were thinking of moving far away.  We still wanted to stay in town so that the kids wouldn't have their lives totally disrupted. On Wednesday Ty messaged me saying that the price of our home on Zillow had dropped and had been dropping for some time and that he didn't think that we should move any time soon.

That message was so hard to read.  It felt like before with the pushing back of the timeline on the remodel.  Like I had been offered something amazing only to have it snatched away just as I reached for it.

And I feel guilty.  Guilty for feeling this way. Our home is a nice home and I am thankful for it.

And I miss my mom, she feels further away now.  And I miss my dad.  And I miss my sister.

And the holidays are coming up.  People are asking about family traditions and every time that discussion comes up my heart just breaks and the tears start to flow.

And there's just so much more going on that is too personal to really put out here.

 I feel so overwhelmed by every. little. thing.

Wednesday night was also our Relief Society Holiday dinner.  I was feeling pretty down heading to the dinner after getting the information about us not moving.  In fact, after the opening announcements I was trying to come up with a way to make an early exit in the most gracious way that I could so I wouldn't have a break down and have to leave in a flurry of tears. And then I was asked to give the closing prayer and I said yes.  Heaven knows why I said yes, but I did.

We had a wonderful speaker who spoke to us about being strong and positive and using our challenges to grow and learn.  She spoke to us about things that she had been through, breast cancer, a radical mastectomy loss of her husband's job, running for a council office and trying to push through some sensitive legislation.  All of these things combining at the same time for her "Perfect Storm".  As I sat and listened to her I knew what she was saying was good advice.  Wise words from someone who had been through her storm and come through the other side...

You are strong.
You can control your attitude.
You can choose to be happy.
It's takes more work to be miserable than it does to be joyful.
Be grateful for what you have.
Gratitude will make things easier.

I know all of these things, I try to practice all of these. On Wednesday, however, I felt that I was failing miserably at all of those things.  I said the closing prayer thanking Heavenly Father for the message that was shared and asking that we would be able to take it and bring it into our hearts and our lives. I helped with the clean up, drove home, got ready for bed and knelt down to pray and I cried.  Cried out to my Father in Heaven. Then I climbed into bed with my husband and he asked me what I was thinking.

All I could say, in between sobs, was that I was sad.  And that I felt guilty and ungrateful for feeling this way.

Thursday, wasn't as bad as Wednesday, although I was very tired and did not feel really well.  I came home from work, made dinner and went to my bed to pass out so I could drive Ty up to the airport later on that night.  He is in Florida for the next ten days.

Today is a little bit better.  I had the morning off work to take George to a Dr.'s appointment and so I went and played volleyball after I dropped him off at school.  I had a very real struggle even getting there.  There are so many things that need to be done at the house that I almost didn't go. Walking into that "craft/junk" room and not knowing where to begin putting things back gave me such anxiety that I almost crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head until it was time for me to go back into work.

I was struggling. Hard.  But I didn't give in. Even when I (still) couldn't find both of my knee pads, and even when I had to search a good ten minutes to find my workout pants (that almost sent me over the edge). I didn't give in.  I made it to play volleyball with a great group of strong women, who had no idea how much they helped me. And the sadness subsided for a couple of hours.  Though towards the end I could feel it working its way back to the surface.

I know that I am not alone in this.  Everyone of us has something in their lives that is a struggle.  It may be sadness, anxiety, loneliness, dealing with the loss of a loved one, illness, relationship problems, problems with children and a million and one other things.

And I guess I just want you to know that you are not alone. It does and will get better even if it seems like the "better" is infinitesimal, it is still "better".

It is a struggle.

And, as my daughter says...

The struggle is real.