Coming out of the dark.

I really don't even know where to start with this. It's been over a year since I've written and a lot has happened. In order for you, whoever you are, to better understand me. I think I need to talk about where I've been and how I got here.

My last entry, was a year ago. It was April and I was training to run Ragnar with my friends. My 2 year old daughter had just been diagnosed with Type 1 (Juvenile) Diabetes 60 days before. My son had fallen off a bar stool upon our return home from the hospital with her & broke his collar bone. Then my 2 yr old got a cold virus, only, because of the diabetes we were in the hospital again for 3 days. My son needed to have his tonsils out shortly after that. According to my last entry I had just been diagnosed with Pneumonia & was trying to recover from that. What I didn't know... was that things were about to get a whole lot worse. At least, that's how I saw it at the time.

The marathon I had trained so vigorously for was in May. I had gotten up to mile 18. Then I had to take time off for my daughter, my son, my daughter, my son, my pneumonia & I felt like I was starting over on my running. The stress, although I would never admit I wasn't coping well & by all appearances I seemed fine, was really killing me. I was beating myself up over any and everything. I could NOT make my daughters blood glucose stay in the limits no matter how hard I tried. This made me feel like a failure as a mother. The most basic of things we can do as a Mom is to keep our kids alive and healthy. I could not be perfect at this, not with her. My son... well... as hard as I try to keep my stunt doing, gravity challenged child alive... this too... seems an impossible task some days. My 2nd daughter was not doing well in school and getting her to try, in the least bit, seemed like I might as well be trying to pull out her teeth. My oldest daughter was the only one that I didn't need to worry about and I'm quite thankful for that, I'm not sure I could have handled anything else. As I wrote, I had pneumonia. Shortly after the last blog was written I found myself in my doctors office complaining of pain in my lower abdomen. In June, I was in surgery to remove some "cysts, tumors or growths of some kind" and to make sure nothing would ever grow again... I had an endometrial ablation. My uterus, destroyed, left me emotionally distraught. I know it doesn't make sense, I mean, we were done having kids... but... the fact that I COULDN'T... even if I WANTED to... was upsetting. About this time... I felt completely alone and I went into a depression. Everything... in my life... was just too much.

Those of you that know me, know that I'm usually pretty optimistic, outgoing, happy. I don't usually let much get me down & if it does, I can bounce back pretty quick. This was new for me.

It took much longer to recover from the surgery than I had expected. I had to give up Ragnar. I had to give up the marathon. I felt like a failure with running. I don't like not achieving any goal that I set out to do. The half marathon in Disneyland that I had signed up for was in September and I wasn't able to get out & start walking again until July. Because of the pain, it took me 10 minutes to walk down to the corner & back. That's only... a 30 minutes mile. I got better & faster until I was jogging again. The longest I went was about 7 miles of jogging. Within a week of the half marathon, I was still unsure of whether or not I would do it. The whole family had plans to be there anyway, so... I might as well go out & do as much of it as I can. I FINISHED! I had to walk parts of it but I did it! I'm proud of myself now, but at the time, not even this could make me happy.

After that.... I gave up. I didn't care. I didn't care about myself. I started eating crap. Hamburgers & Fries? Sure. Whatever. You want sugar cereal tonight for dinner? Mom can't possibly make anything tonight, she's too tired. I knew that exercise might help. The thought of going out to exercise in any form... made me even more depressed. It was just another reminder of what a failure I am. One more thing I couldn't do right.

October through March... was pretty much a blur. I wasn't me, I didn't care, I didn't want to. I gained about 30 pounds, which made me more depressed. Which would make me "self medicate" with a Pepsi or chocolate to try to kill the pain. (That helps, right? :D) Finally in March... I kind of started coming back to myself. I would have days... here & there... where I would try to eat better. I went for a walk around the block.... which for having just done a half marathon 6 months ago was surprisingly hard but at least I was doing... something.

I realized that I will ALWAYS have problems with my daughter's diabetes & It will never be something I master. It will always just be... a work in progress. So... I can't give up. I can't give up on her. I can't give up hope that my son will one day find balance when he walks, or sits, or lays down. I can't give up hope that my daughter will start to ENJOY learning. As it turns out... I wasn't alone at all. I had my husband, my family, they were there all along. It was me that was shutting them out. Not the other way around. I finally started to feel like "me" again. Well... this "me"... runs. This "me" takes care of herself. This "me" is NOT perfect and is a work in progress just like with everything else in life.

I am starting over. Starting now. Not tomorrow, not next week or at the beginning of next month, or after my Wedding Anniversary. I need to be done with excuses & just do it. Today I took the kids, went for a walk and I started Weight Watchers. I signed up for the Layton Half Marathon and for the Tinker Bell Half Marathon in Disneyland. I will be "me" again.... maybe a little smarter than before, but I think... better.