Are You There, Blog? It’s Me, Wendy
Funny thing happened this summer. I died.
It didn’t happen suddenly. It was a slow death I should have seen coming. A series of events, one after the other, that combined to take me away, piece by piece.
It started when I went to Massachusetts with Lucas and left my husband behind for 10 days. Despite being on vacation, a feeling of unrest followed me throughout my stay. No partner to tag in when Lucas worked my last nerve. No warm smile to share across the table.
Then I came home to California and left my son back in Massachusetts with my mom for 12 days. I knew he was having the time of my life, so that kept me going. But a week went by without my child. Then almost two. Without him, the world stood too still. The house was too clean. I felt nothing inside of me stirring. I tread water, barely keeping my head, as waves of loneliness washed over me. I felt myself fading.
During that time, I ran out of the painkillers that I rely on to deal with chronic back pain. I went two and a half weeks without them, powering through just-under-the-skin raw inflammation and bone deep dull joint pain. I had been tested emotionally—now it was time for the physical. My head dipped below the water but I fought to stay afloat.
Then I managed to return to what felt like a hostile work environment—one that threatened to swallow me whole. A particularly hellish two weeks tested my capacity to handle challenges with grace and fortitude. I drowned in work and stress reached a fever pitch.
Then something happened that killed me dead. I’m a writer by profession, but despite cranking out hundreds of words a day, I stopped writing.
This whole time, I haven’t been me. I’ve either had too much or too little. And my blog, this microcosm of me, has sat at the back of my mind like a tiny nuisance, a phantom hair tickling my arm. How could I write for fun when I had nothing important or funny to say? When my heart was in two different places or my body was exhausted from fighting back pain or my brain was spent from juggling copywriting and product updates and work politics and board of director bios?
A week went by without writing for fun. Then two. Then a month. I thought about giving it up for good. After all, it would be one less thing I’d have to worry about. It made all kinds of logical, practical sense. Why am I even doing this, anyway?
Then I took a huge, gasping breath and felt my heart beat in my ribcage again. It’s faint, but it’s there.
Some things happened this summer that made me forget who I am and what I want. They weren’t big things, which is why I couldn’t tap into grief or anger or frustration or any kind of identifiable emotion that I could capture here on this blog. Little things that conspired to make me give up on my creative pursuits. To doubt in my ability to do or be something more than I already am. I knew I wasn’t content. But for the first time, I was purposefully not pressing forward.
And to me, that might as well be dead. So I’ll keep trying, even though it feels like trudging backwards and in heels through molasses. I’ll put words on this blog, if only to remind myself that I’ve got to find something else left.
My family is back together. My prescription for painkillers has been refilled, and relief is here. Work continues to be stressful, but the worst of it seems to have let up (for now). All is not right with the world, but I’ve got to make it right.
And the first step is talking to you, dear blog. Are you there? It’s me. Wendy.
The Olive Gal
green of skin, black of heart
Dear Wendy,
I am here, it’s me…a blog reader!
I love you and even this article, which you had to ‘trudge backwards and in heels through molasses” to get out of you, seems to make me laugh! This is life my dear little ‘sister’ and life is very much like a roller coaster…so let’s look at the good, since this post was clearly pointing out the negative:
Good points:
You were fortunate enough to travel to see your family across the coast and be welcomed with open arms, kisses and hugs strong enough to squeeze your breath right out!
You were able to have you and your mom time, you and your dad time, you and your friends time, us time, and more family time…all GREAT THINGS, like a little refresher for your soul.
You were able to travel with your son and give him some very valuable, maternal-side family, and memories to last a life time
You were able to go to the New England beaches and also to experience New England weather…RAIN!
You were able to leave my darling god-son behind and go on a plane ALONE!!! ALL ALONE! no one to entertain, feed, pay attention to…just ALONE and get off the plane to your adoring husband, who was waiting for you with open arms and kisses
You were able to spend almost 2 weeks alone with him!!! Id give anything to have another 5 days with my boyfriend, sans kids!!
AND, most importantly, your son was delivered to you with your mom and aunt in tow, to help you and him for an additional week at your home! That, is precious!
and one last thing: I know jobs can be stressful and groaning, pulling at your sanity and mental state, BUT your job ROCKS! at the end of the day, its paying for your gorgeous new home of YOURS and your husbands dreams, in an area closer to his family…
One thing ive learned with all the shit ive been through in my lifetime, lots my own shit, but mostly someone else’s shit….its a quote on my dear friends wall on his office that he had made:
“ALWAYS BE GRATEFUL”
You are a beautiful person and have an amazing life, home and family. a strong unit that is unbreakable!
I love you to pieces
MULE
We really enjoy your writing Wendy. You are Amazing!
Love,
Charlotte and Ben