It's been a hell of a time

I've been thinking for a while about what I'm going to do with this blog. I've been writing it for 13 1/2 years. It's been a record of my life and my thoughts for a long time. It chronicled my marriage. I've written about my kids since they were born.

But my kids are now at an age when I don't feel like their stories are mine to tell. Stories about Zeke flirting shamelessly with my friends were adorable when he wasn't even two. But it's not fair to talk about his flirting habits now, when he's 12 and in the throes of middle school drama. When anything and everything is embarrassing.

Suffice it to say that middle school girls are a fucking nightmare. I feel like I can say this, having been one once.

Josie isn't quite at the point of being mortified by discussion of her life's foibles, but I still think that she's entitled to her privacy.

As for me, I've always felt like an open book, but it's hard to write about certain aspects of my life when this is not an anonymous blog. People who read this know who I am. I work for a government entity that is highly political. I've written what I thought were incredibly innocuous posts and gotten snarky pushback from individuals in the community where I work.

But then I was recently chatting with a colleague who I don't know very well, and she said, "I've been reading your blog! I really love it. I love your voice. I love the way you write. You're funny."

I was flattered and encouraged. We talked a little bit about writing - she's a blogger too - and I lamented that I was feeling bottled up because the things that I have always written about - my relationships, my kids, funny stories involving foul language - feel off-limits for one reason or another. She understood, but told me I should write anyway.

So I will keep writing. I want to write more. I find it therapeutic.

There have been all kinds of things buzzing around in my brain lately - I've been dealing with a lot of shit, much of it of the deja-vu-all-over-again variety. But in the dawn of a new decade, it feels like a good time to do a little retrospective. I was thinking about it and then Lisa did one and now I'm inspired to do my own. (Love you, Lis! xoxo)

The decade got off to a rough start. And looking back, it never really got better. It's been a hard ten years.

At the start of 2010, I had a newborn baby and a toddler, a husband who was working out of town during the week, a job that I hated, and we were broke from the housing crash and the move from Hawaii. Jason got pneumonia in January. Emma had her awful accident in March. We managed to buy our house (now my house) before the short sale on the Hawaii house trashed our credit for a few years. I changed jobs in November. I was constantly exhausted and feeling like I was hanging on by a weak thread. But there was a big bright spot - I went to an India reunion and reconnected with all of my old friends, most of whom I hadn't seen in at least 15 or 20 years. It was magical.

Things felt somewhat calmer and more normalized in 2011, though I was still a single parent during the week and feeling generally overwhelmed. There were some bright spots - I started skiing more and grew to really love it. Emma got better.

In 2012 and 2013 we started to explore Colorado more. We did some camping, which the kids loved, especially when it involved me getting a speeding ticket.

But I was sinking into depression because I was so unhappy in my marriage. So, so unhappy. I was miserable and not taking good care of myself and even had a scare when I thought I had brain cancer (it turned out to be silent migraines).

The true annus horribilis was, obviously, 2014. The worst year of my life, no question. It started with the decision that Jason and I made to split up, which was good on one hand because it needed to happen, but for financial reasons we needed to continue living together for a while. At first it was sort of fine, but then it really wasn't. When he started being overtly mean to me and trashing me in front of my family at the beach vacation that my parents had paid for him to attend, my mother told him to cut the shit. I told him it was time to move out.

And then less than a month later, Emma was dead. Even now, five years later, it still feels like a punch to the gut every time I think about it.

2015 is a fog. I wavered between despondency and depression, and feeling like I was learning how to live again. I went to another great India reunion, which made me happy. I was walking to work every morning, which was life-affirming and restorative. We went to Iceland, which was really cool. But I still frequently felt bombarded by grief and overwhelmed by loneliness.

The years since have been more of the same - crazy awfulness mixed in with some triumphs, but mostly mundane bullshit.

Lori died in 2016. So did her sister.

My kids, particularly Zeke, have struggled post-divorce.

Things haven't been all terrible, or even mostly terrible in a day-to-day sense. I was talking to my friend Jen a couple of weeks ago and as part of the "how have you been how's life treating you" conversation, she said something that stuck with me: "oh, you know. Mostly muddling through, with occasional moments of joy. You know how it is."

I do know how it is. And I have had some moments of joy, including some borne of sadness. I started climbing 14ers on the anniversary of Emma's death, first for her, and then for others. I've done some traveling, including Italy in 2017 and a wonderful trip to India with Lisa this past July. I adore my reunions and time reconnecting with old friends. I got a new job that I love. I love skiing and hiking and enjoying where I live. Trips to the beach with my family, whom I love and from whom I draw so much strength. Days in the sun and on the mountain. My children, who get more wonderful and interesting each day.

But looking back over the past ten years, I realize that I have spent a decade feeling like I'm under siege, going from crisis to crisis, difficulty to difficulty, struggle to struggle. It's been exhausting. It's been so hard.

I am turning 50 in a month and a half. It's a new decade. I am trying to make an effort to be thoughtful about what I want and need for myself. I have some trips planned. I signed up for acting classes, because I thought it would be fun and it would be something just for me.

It's a work in progress.