On Turning 40 and the Fog

There’s a chance this will be incoherent. But I suppose I always run that risk anytime I sit down to a blank sheet of paper. This time, though, it’s been so long since I last sat with the intention of getting thoughts out. So here goes.

Life has felt unbearably heavy. But nothing is actually wrong. Nothing is bad. Nothing is fucked in my hemisphere. In fact, the world has opened back up. Socialization is a thing again. There’s no fear of dying from bumping into some asymptomatic infected person since I decided to get the vaccine (what a mindfuck that decision was, btw). The weather is hot but gorgeous. We have a brand new pool in our back yard. My kids are at awesome ages. My husband is the best thing that ever happened to me. And yet... A sadness descended early in May and it sort of decided to stay.

It was a weight that wouldn’t lift. The things I normally enjoy had no appeal. The work I typically love sat untouched. Morning mantras sounded tone deaf. Positivity was nonexistent. I had no desire to engage in my life. I kept up my role as mom and the kids hopefully didn’t notice other than that I was in bed a bit earlier than usual. Oh who am I kidding. Kids are perceptive. I’m sure they felt that something was off, even if they couldn’t name it. I cried a lot. I did a lot of yoga nidra. And slept. This all sounds like text book depression, doesn’t it? But for some reason I’m hesitant to use that word for this experience. But whatever you label it, it was a fog that didn’t seem to want to go away.

About a week ago it started to lift. I woke up one morning and simply felt lighter. I felt joyful at moments and have been having more good days than bad days since then. While I wouldn’t say it’s totally over, I am at a place where I can see that I can choose to do things that will help or I can choose to wallow. Some days I still decide to wallow. But on the whole I’m trying more. I’m running with my friends again. I’m weight lifting regularly. I’m eating healthier again. I’m interacting with the kids more. I’m being silly more. I’m feeling more even. I’m definitely walking back up the hill.

While I was in this darkness, I was in my head more than usual and felt like all of my life decisions were up for debate. Perhaps that was more a function of turning 40 than being depressed. Whatever the reason, I’ve questioned so much lately.

My new law firm. The one that isn’t even a year old. I’ve wondered if I made a mistake. I’ve let the saboteurs in my head run circles around me and talked myself into paralysis with moving forward. Thankfully that brilliant man I married continues to sees things in me that I am too blind to see myself and helped me create a plan that doesn’t make me want to vomit. And the more I talk to people about estate planning and helping small businesses, the more excited I get about actually making an impact in people’s lives through this avenue. I took a fantastic course on positive intelligence that helped identify saboteurs (my top 3 are hyper vigilant, hyper achiever and avoider – they gang up to really fuck with my head), and while I was in the course I was able to talk down the voices so easily. But now I’m struggling to stay in sage, but I’m working on it. I think my hyper achiever gets her panties in a wad when I don’t master something the first time. Work in progress…I’ve decided I’m going to wait to focus on growing and taking on more new clients until August when all three kids are in elementary school (what!?!) and that decision to give myself grace this summer has been hugely helpful.

My alcohol free-ness. Ugh. I want to say I love not drinking. I did. I do. But lately it’s been bugging me. I would like to occasionally have something to just take the edge off. You know, like a glass of wine or paloma will do. But it’s not worth the risk of bringing on a panic attack. At least not right now. But there’s a part of me that wants to test the waters. I never set out to stop drinking forever. I just wanted the panic attacks to stop. But I immersed myself in sober living on social media and read some great quit lit books and I quickly flipped from simply NOT drinking to being super pro sobriety. I wouldn’t ever say I was anti-drinking for other people, but I was for myself. And now I’m wondering if that was just a defense mechanism. Or my hyper achiever telling me that if I’m going to make an effective change then I need to commit 110%. And there has been so much ease and freedom that came with not drinking at all. But it’s something I’ve been questioning. And then I wonder if the questioning is more the fact that I’d simply like to be like everyone else and be a normal adult. As socializing increases, the times I’m around others who are drinking increases and I’m reminded that I’m different. As the drinks flow, the conversations flow. People get more comfortable with one another. And I stay awkward as fuck. It’s all in my head, I know. I have no idea how this will shake out.

My mothering. My youngest starts elementary school in less than 2 months. The days of babies and toddlers are over. My oldest turns 11 this year. 5th grade. He only has 8 more years before he’s off to college. My husband even had the birds and bees talk with him this summer. My babies are growing up. And by God if all those people who tell you it goes by so fast aren’t right. It is heartbreaking how quickly the years go. But damn are the days hard sometimes. And the bigger the kids get, the bigger their problems. I feel like I still have no earthly idea what I’m doing as a parent. I worry I am doing irreparable harm. Am I yelling too much? Am I not showing enough compassion? Am I teaching them how to fail? Am I imparting all my faults on to them? This. Is. Hard. Parenting is the most humbling experience and I have really been struggling with wanting to be fully present with them. I know balance is a farce, s that’s not even my goal But there must be some better way to blend work, parenting and life. Today I decided not to work and to simply be with them. We made origami. We swam in the pool. I can’t even tell you how many times we went off the diving board. I made a fabulous lunch from scratch. And then I told my husband that I was going to work when he was done with his workday and here I am at my office. I did work before sitting to get all this out. I’ve been super productive in a short period of time. I think it’s because I’m not multitasking. I’m 100% focused on the task at hand. So I’m thinking that’s what I need. To be focused on the kids when I’m with them and be OK with work progressing slower than it could; being ok with the house being less organized than it could. Etc. Etc. I don’t want to look back and wish I’d spent my time with them different.

I could go on and on about the things I’m re-evaluating. But I need to get home to those kiddos of mine. As I finish this I’m reminded how cathartic writing always is for me. I want to write more often. In all that free time…

If anyone reads this and has been walking in the fog, I see you. I feel you. I know how you feel. I’ve talked to quite a few friends who are in their own form of fog. You are not alone. Ever. XX