When I was in 4th grade, I think, a kid named Peder Lindh (I think that was his name. Definitely was his name, less sure of the spelling) punched me in the stomach after school. We were standing by the coat hooks. No real reason for hitting me, except that I was a kinda snotty kid. Wonder why I've never returned for my school reunions? I also swear that schools are not as brutish as they used to be. I don't remember Peder getting in any particular trouble for punching me. It might have been worth a suspension today.
ANYWAY -- I remember this particular punch because his little fist went up and under my solar plexis leaving me kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath, head spinning.
Recently I got myself into one of those messed-up, relationship-issue situations that I have a real talent for getting myself involved in. I tried to figure out what was going on and then, because I just can't help myself sometimes, I tried to fix it. As a result one of the people involved, whom I really like and has enough on her plate, wound up feeling very angry and betrayed, and I think I made a bad situation somewhat worse, or at least no better. Not to mention the fact that I seemed to have killed a budding friendship.
Her anger was another punch to the gut, and I fell apart in a way I haven't for a long time. I sobbed and literally had to go to bed. At 7pm.
One of my daughters had recently commented that she didn't see why depression is considered a mental illness when her mom seems so OK. I think she got a crash course.
I know I'm way ahead of where I was years ago. I know my issues pretty well, I knew I was having an episode, and I knew I had to lay low and take it easy for awhile. I'm back up and around, and breathing, but still feel echoes of awful.
The worst part? I want to reach-out with an apologetic gesture, let her know I wasn't in it for personal gain, but only to help. But re-visiting the issue may only muddy the water yet again. But I'm having trouble walking away and leaving the situation alone.
While it was all going on I tried so hard to do the right thing. The Quakers have a concept called "leadings." If you're very quiet and allow the Spirit to move you, it will be your guide. (Thus one of my favorite little signs ever that I used to have in my office: I am a Quaker. In case of emergency, please be quiet.) I really tried to do that, but it back-fired. Is the Spirit leading me to reach out? Or my own craven need for approval? I'm not sure I can tell the difference anymore.
I haven't been to the nursing home for a couple of weeks. I also just found out that Brandon's aunt wants to watch him full-time for the summer, so I don't have that exhausting distraction anymore. It's a good thing, but an adjustment. And, of course, the kids are bored. AAAAAAH!
So how are things with you?
