I've been wallowing in a bit of a funk lately and I've been keeping it to myself. It took me a while to figure out what was going on. Generally, I'm not the kind of girl that figures things out on the first run. Usually it takes a few cinder blocks to the head or some other form of blunt force trauma for me to get a good grasp on things.
Around here, when the kids are in a funk, it sorta rolls up to me until I put an end to it. This time, the funks with me. I've been the shitty one to live with. I've been the one in a fowl mood. Been writing downer posts and generally wanting to escape and get the hell out of my own life.
It's the time of year, I think. The kids are in the grind of school, they're really starting to hate it, hate homework and everything else associated with that building.
Alex punched another kid at school and we're dealing with that. His teacher's been out of town and will remain out for the rest of the week. His routine is off, way off. And the substitute is just that, a sub. She doesn't know what the fuck is going on and doesn't really care that much to learn. Alex, however, is hell-bent on letting her know all the rules and exactly which one she's breaking, when and how to correct it. He's burning more brain cells worrying about the schedule, the class routine and how far off she is. Its making me sick to watch him come unhinged the way he is.
Truth be told, I'm glad he knocked the little shit down a peg or two. Honestly, he had it coming to him but really, the timing of things is not so good for me right now. So much for not writing about school, eh?
And the whole time I've been in a funk. Just pissed-off at everything. Seething right under the surface. I've been avoiding things and people. But mostly I've been avoiding the one side of my closet. I can't go back there.
It didn't hit me till I looked at the calender. We're in January. Getting toward the end of the month.
To the twenty-fourth.
The day my son died.
I hate this time of year.
My son died three years ago, when we were in North Dakota. I couldn't bear the thought of burying him in the ground so we had him cremated. His urn is in the back corner of my closet.
I still can't go back there.
This is about the daily grind with young kids ages 8, 6, and 2 and everything that goes with it. From wishing I were somewhere else (more often than you would like to know) to how I'm managing to get through the day without totally losing the plot. My oldest has Asperger's and Sensory Processing Disorder. And he's the best behaved out of the whole lot.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
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(((HUGS))) No wonder you've been in a funk. I'd be in a funk too.
ReplyDelete((Hugs)) Lizbeth. I'm so sorry.
ReplyDeleteI lost someone very dear to me, a long time ago, on the 13th of January. Remember this loss combined with the dreary time of year is never easy... even years and years later.
I could give you some cheesy cliches like "your son is with God now," but I'm not going to insult your feelings. You've heard all that before, I'm sure. What I will give you instead is a shoulder, a hand up, and a promise to listen while you work your way back. Because you will be back.
Hang in there.
Thanks, thanks, thanks.
DeleteLizbeth I am so sorry.
ReplyDeleteI know those words can sound so hollow but I sincerely wish you didn't have to go through this. It sucks!
I'd be in a funk too - don't be so hard on yourself.
Jan & Feb suck for most of us but you have a good reason.
I am just wallowing.
Wanna run away with me and we can look for seashells and drink good wine? @#$% it all. :-)
((Cyber Hugs))
Peggy
Seashells?!? Gurl, you're talking my language. Thanks.
DeleteChrist on a cracker, that's some heavy grief to carry around. I'm so very sorry for your loss, and I won't pretend to have a clue what that would feel like. But maybe, maybe it will feel better to bring him out, to celebrate him?? To put him on a table, and say "you did not escape this crazy family, you're gonna sit right here and watch this shit." And laugh. Find a way to laugh and smile. Maybe not...I don't know the right answer. But he would want you to smile, and to laugh, and to go on each day being the best mom you can be.
ReplyDeleteYou right there, made me laugh. Out loud. And for that I thank you.
DeleteI knew it was coming. I remember the beautiful post you did before and I often wonder where you find your strength. All I can say is that each pain, each memory is also part of love. It is the thorny part but it is love that makes us feel this way. I will say a prayer for your little one in heaven and for you my dear sweet friend. This crappy winter will pass in due time and we will get through it together. Love to you. xx
ReplyDeleteSniff, sniff, seriously, thank you. You have no idea what all your words of kindness mean to me.
DeleteLizbeth, I'm sorry. These are the times it's hard to be a pastor's wife because there are really no words for times like this. But I will listen, no matter what you say. So please feel the freedom to vent here or even email me - I would consider it an honor to walk alongside you.
ReplyDelete(lanarush@austin.rr.com)
Thanks Lana, thank you.
DeleteI went back to last years post to read about Wyatt. One of these days you'll be able to talk about it. Maybe after the little ones get bigger and don't remind you that another little one is no longer here.
ReplyDeleteMaybe but not yet. Thanks Mike.
DeleteKudos to you for only being in a funk and not in a back woods trailer huffing crystal meth.
ReplyDeleteI wish I could somehow lighten your load as you have unknowingly done for me so many times with your posts and comments. You are dear and I'm so sorry for your grief. Much love.
I never said I wasn't out back in the trailer.....thanks. Now get back in the bathroom, we still have some grout to scrub and rum to drink. Preferably in reverse order.
DeleteThe holiday hangover is bad enough for everyone, but you carry an extra emotional load. You are entitled to your funk. Absolutely entitled. I say make the most of it, and then when you're ready, end it. You'll know when you're ready.
ReplyDeleteAnd I just have to say, leave it to Flan. What a great response.
I do not know your pain, but I do know sadness, and I will keep you and your beautiful boy close to my heart.
I lurv Flan and you too! Thanks Grace. You know me all too well and what to say. And thank you for that.
Deleteugh! I'm so sorry. SO sorry.
ReplyDelete*Internet Hugs you but not in the creepy way I usually do*
This is the one and only time I accept your hugs. :) And thank you. It helped.
DeleteLizbeth, I was just about to say that I've been in a total, debilitating funk lately too, until I read the sad part about your son who died. I'm sorry. That explains a lot. But you're right--it's just about that time of the year when everything becomes so repetitive that it's SICKENING and SUFFOCATING.
ReplyDeleteWhat if you just kept Alex home for a couple of days? Would that be worse? Just call in, say he's sick? That would be a couple days less till his teacher returns. I mean, if it doesn't kill you, then who cares, right?
Yesterday I was so foul. I had decided every day had become the same, right down to the daily dialogue. So, last night I got drunk, watched Californication, and had a monstrous cry before bed. Good times, right?!? Right???
YOu know, I thought about keeping him home but that would be like punishing him. He loves school! Even with all the changes it would be worse for him not to go.
DeleteThe only part missing in that last part was me in the bed right next to you!! And I have HBO and not Showtime and miss Califorincation but, hell, you get my drift.
so...good times all around! That's good your guy likes school. I wish Jack did more!
Delete((hugs))
ReplyDeleteYou are out of bed and vertical, so I commend you on your strength right there. Time for the warmth of fresh cookies!
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry for the grief you have to carry, and thank you for sharing your world with us.
Out of bed and vertical. Haha! That made me laugh, in a good way...thanks!
DeleteJanuary is a crap month anyway - I don't think I could bear it at sll if I had to deal with the anniversary of the loss of a child. No wonder you love Sanibel xx
ReplyDeleteYou know me too well, I think.
DeleteKeep writing, it helps. We'll read even the downer posts.
ReplyDeleteHugs to you!
It does, thanks Christy.
DeleteSweet Jesus, Lizbeth. I am so sorry for your loss - words that probably sound trite, and I am sorry for that, too. Know that we are praying for you and your family, sending you love and hope and strength. We are here. If or when you need to talk, cry, rage, whatever. You know where to find us.
ReplyDeleteThanks. Hugs.
DeleteCrikey, no wonder you are in a funk. Keep writing - better out than in.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry about your boy. I can't imagine. I buy a friend a present every year to mark the day her baby was born and died on the same day. I make it something that makes a difference - a bit of the rainforest, sponsor an endangered animal, sponsor a child for a year, something like that, in her baby's name. Something that allows the influence of Heather's life to continue over the years.
Maybe something like that would help, I don't know. Maybe I just talk out of my butt.
That's sweet, most of my family tries to ignore it. Probably because I'm not there, I guess.
DeleteThanks.
Ah Lizbeth....our parallel lives on opposite sides of the world. Lets blow this popsicle stand and meet up somewhere tropical. We be owed man!
ReplyDeleteWe are owed, aren't we? I'm on for the tropical place, you name it!
DeleteI'm sorry is lame. But I'm sending thoughts and hugs your way.
ReplyDeleteAll I can offer are my virtual hugs. Take care of yourself as best as you can. ((((hugs))))
ReplyDelete-Angela (aka Caffeinated Autism Mom)
www.caffeinatedautismmom.com
Thanks Angela, thank you.
DeleteOMG. No wonder you're having a hard time. I had no idea! Thanks for sharing. I wish I could help...somehow.
ReplyDeleteJust leaving a comment works wonders, thanks DeeAnn.
DeleteI'm so sorry. I can't even imagine.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteWishing you well. Hang in. Things DO get better. Sometimes they get worse, but they get better too.
ReplyDeleteI know and thanks. This time of year plus W. dying is enough to give me pause. Not for very long, but enough to make me want to curl up in a ball for a while.
DeleteI'm so sorry to hear of your loss. Hang in there. :(
ReplyDeleteThanks Angela. Thank you.
DeleteI remember your post last year too, I just didn't realize it was this time last year. **massive cyber hugs from far away** And yeah, your funk is totally justified. I hope you get an early spring ;)
ReplyDeleteI hope so too, or at least some snow. All the grey is oppressive. And thanks for the hugs.
DeleteI know this funk. This funk was at my house in December. It is a bad funk, and I am sorry that it travels. *hugs*
ReplyDeleteOddly, MY son punched a kid this week, too.
Thanks. What is it with our kids punching this time of year? I feel like I need to send them in with gloves and body armor.... Thanks again.
DeleteOh, shit! I am so sorry! Here I was nodding along with your post thinking I've been totally justified in MY blue funk which is so petty and stress-related, but not caused by anything big. No wonder you're in a funk. Oh, man, I am so sorry. I wish more than anything I could come by your house with some gooey brownies or something and just hang with you.
ReplyDeleteTake care of yourself, will you?
You know Patty I think what you said worked better than brownies. Thank you.
Deletexo
I remember that day. I love you.
ReplyDeleteI remember that day. I love you.
ReplyDeleteFeeling's mutual babe, feelings mutual.
Deletexxoo
My nephew died 12 years ago in November and I hate that time of year and I am hell to live with too. I can't even begin to imagine how this feels for you but give yourself lots of TLC cos hun you deserve it.
ReplyDeleteIf I could hug you right now I would. You really deserve a shelling trip to Sanibel right now!
ReplyDelete