Anxiety Echo

The initial depression I was feeling when I wrote the entry "5 Things" has grown into an anxiety flare-up. Alex came out to us just before my birthday last year. That was really hard. So, I guess having my birthday and preparing for the new school year cued my body to remember the intense emotions and stress of last summer. That couple days of mild depression sharpened into tension/fear upon waking and then the unrelenting emotional "buzz" in my brain/body that "something is wrong, something is wrong, you don't know what it is but it's scary and real and coming any second." 

Thankfully, the buzz has remained largely in the background. It hasn't been too terribly difficult to make myself do the things I need to do. Cutting out gluten has helped with the nausea and the meds are clearly helping with mood regulation. When I think of something that would normally send a wave of panic throughout my body, there's nothing. I have a chance to back away from it. Such a relief.

I was thinking a couple weeks ago that the anxiety was so well controlled that I might want to try and cut back on the second medication my doctor prescribed last year. I'm glad I talked myself out of that. 

I feel like the anxiety echo has plateaued for now. Some days are better than others, of course, and it makes me sleepy, but it's okay for now. 

This last weekend, I got to fly to Houston as part of an 80th birthday surprise for my mom. More about this later. It was a GREAT trip. The anxiety was present, but manageable. I wasn't anxious about flying. At all. That's not how my anxiety works. My anxiety springs from the feelings that I am 1) personally responsible for others' happiness and 2) obliged to meet others' expectations of me. Traveling to Houston is easy peasy compared to that! My calming mantra goes something like this: 

"I am not responsible for making so-and-so have a good time."

"I don't have to sparkle. I am enough just the way I am."

"I don't need to cure/solve all hurt or injustice. Supporting someone through it is enough."

As I say these things to myself, I imagine the weight of those burdens lifting and floating away.

My physical calming routine includes a good, deep breath followed by a deliberate unclenching of all the muscles in my body. Especially my jaw and shoulders.

I have a specific list of self-care tasks that I force myself to do every morning (take morning meds, eat breakfast, use the bathroom, get dressed, wash my face, put in contacts, brush teeth, floss, read scriptures, and pray) and bedtime (put on pajamas, take evening meds, wash face, brush teeth, take out contacts, use the bathroom, and pray).

These mantras and routines help me 1) manage my anxiety on a daily basis and 2) feel human during an anxiety flare-up.

So, while I'm not exactly comfortable today, I am okay. Who knows how I would be feeling today without those measures in place?! 

5 Things

First off, I want you to know that I replaced our broken garbage disposer/disposal a couple weeks ago (so proud of myself) and there have been no leaks so far (thank the plumbing saints!). I still don't trust it, though. Time will tell all.

Second, James and Matthew have been at Wild Child Survival Camp this week. They both love the activities, even as they complain that it takes up their WHOLE day. They seem to have enjoyed whittling, fire building, and swimming the most. Robert has repeatedly told me this week how much he enjoys a quiet day at home without the noise and activity that his younger brothers bring. He even said, "I see now why you want to sign us up for all kinds of camps." He's not wrong. I do enjoy the quiet. I feel like it makes me a better, more patient parent for the times they are home. 

Third, this week marks the one year anniversary of Alex coming out. It's a bittersweet anniversary. Bitter because I am still dealing with the loss and grief of Alice. It's dormant most of the time, though, and hasn't interrupted my life for several months. I've heard from others that anniversaries of someone's death can be surprisingly hard. I think I'm feeling that now. I feel a little depressed, less energy, less interest in things that used to make me happy. It's harder to go to bed on time and harder to get out of bed. I eat fewer vegetables. I don't want to exercise or be around people. I feel like it's a strain just going through the motions.

This anniversary is sweet, too. I love Alex. He has grown a lot this year. We all have. And I'm so happy to be where we are! A year ago, I had no idea what the future would bring, but I had hope that we would be okay again. We're okay! We're actually okay and that's such a blessing and relief. Alex's gender and sexual identity have kinda moved into the background. I don't think about it every day. It just is. Our conversations center more on his social life, college applications, high school jobs, and learning to drive...regular teenage stuff! His relationships with his siblings are normal. He still wants to be a part of this family. Yes, he would love to move forward with medical transitioning, but he's okay waiting, too. Friends and family have asked me about Alex's transition and shared their perspectives. I've learned so much! I'm grateful for that. 

Fourth, I'm still processing the Evans Family Reunion we attended in July. I'm trying to figure out why it was so hard for me. I guess I needed more structure?? We got there and it was largely flexible free time. That's great with people you know pretty well (e.g. my own siblings, church friends, the Garners), but it's absolute torture for an introvert 1) surrounded by people she doesn't know super well and 2) feeling pressure to engage these folks regularly in meaningful ways. I didn't realize this at the time, though. I just felt awkward, uncomfortable pressure. I wanted to hide in my room for the first couple days. By the third day, though, I was accustomed to the laid back flexibility and started having fun. I found smaller groups throughout the day in which to share meaningful conversations. By the fourth day, cousins from different families were routinely playing together. My kids were playing with cousins! Such a great thing to see. 

I loved engaging the cousins through fishing and tie-dye...smaller groups, focused on a specific activity. Meal times and the evening meetings were great, too. I knew what to expect, what to do, and could interact with people in a normal and natural way. 

So, I guess when it's my turn to plan a family reunion of some sort, I'll do it the introverted way :) The first couple of days will have structured, scheduled activities that people can choose to attend or not (e.g. nature walk, boat rides, craft, meals, swim time, campfire, night games, outdoor olympics, evening devotional/activity). That will give the introverted folks a chance to 1) engage and interact more comfortably and 2) experience several different activities they can do on their own the rest of the time. I also found it difficult to engage the other adults while we were all wrangling our individual kids. This got better once the cousins played with each other more than their parents. If possible, I'd love for there to be an event or meal where adults can interact without their kids. Maybe the adults go out to dinner while older cousins babysit younger cousins (pizza and a movie!)? Maybe there's a girls' outing one day and a guys' outing another day? Smaller group activities are the best! I'll have to brainstorm how to get the cousins to interact with each other more early on...

And these things can happen at a lake house, on a cruise, or anywhere else we choose to gather. Yes. I can get behind that :)

Feelings processed. Plan in place. That feels better. 

Fifth, Robert may have his first regular job lined up. A neighbor asked him to mow their lawn for the rest of the season and possibly future seasons as well. He's pleased at the prospect of acquiring "fun money", but not too thrilled to have to work for it :) Welcome to adulting, bud.

Boating Adventure

We just got back from a week-long reunion with Bobby's family in Michigan. All 6 families stayed under one roof at an enormous lakehouse on Stone Lake (Cassopolis, MI). We have a lot of pictures and stories to tell, but I wanted to tell this one first. 

The lakehouse had a 12-person pontoon boat included in the rental. Towards the end of the reunion, I took Robert and James out on the lake so they could drive. It was AWESOME watching them go from "nervous cautious" to "excited cautious" to "confident cautious" as they gained a little more experience. They loved to punch it and go fast. I did, too!

At some point, Robert slows down to take a turn when the engine coughs, sputters, and completely shuts down. We are floating dead in the water. Everyone's eyes get wide. Robert turns to me a little confused...did I break it? I check the controls and everything is as it should be, then it occurs to me that we may be out of gas. As soon as the words escape my lips, James exclaimes, "Are we going to die?!" Robert, completely flabbergasted, needs clarification, "What do you MEAN we're out of gas?" It's almost like he doesn't realize something like that could even physically happen.

We're pretty far from shore, but the lake is only half a mile wide, so I'm not that worried about us. It's easy to keep my cool as I inform them that there's another tank of gas on the boat. I hook it up lickety-split and the engine barely turns over. The second tank is ALSO empty. Huh. Now I get a little worried. I hear some liquid splashing around in both tanks and try to combine them into one tank. No go...the tanks aren't designed for that. Now the boys get reeeeeeally worried, "What do we do if we can't drive back to shore?!" Again James needs to know, "Are we GOING to DIE?!" I assure them that we'll be okay, but without a specific plan in place, they doubt my faith.

Then, in a stroke of heaven-sent inspiration, I remember there is a tiny emergency tank of gas under the back seat. Thankfully, that one is full. As I empty the tiny tank into the big one, the boys continue to doubt whether it'll be enough, whether we'll be able to swim to shore, whether we'll die of thirst and starvation before help arrives.

I hook up the tank and turn the key. Sputter, sputter, cough. Dead. 

What?! WHAT?! 

Then I remember boating with my dad. I need to prime the pump. Of course!

The engine starts right up and we're on our way. The boys don't feel like chatting or smiling or anything. They just want to get safely back to shore as soon as physically possible, but not so fast that we run out of gas again. I pull into the dock and the boys are off the boat lickety split. I want to give high fives and celebrate our cool-headed learning experience, but Robert won't even look at me. He wants off, he wants to get away. James gives me a high five of relief, though. That feels nice. 

A few minutes later, after some soothing ice cream, Robert tells me that he's still feeling tension and stress from the incident, like it just happened. That he wants to kinda stay near me and be quiet for a little while. I'm okay with that. 

The next day, Grandma and Grandpa purchase more gas for the boat. We head down to the dock for another boating adventure on the lake. James can't wait to drive again but Robert confesses, "I have PTSD from the last time." Then he adds, "I'm gonna go anyway." 

I was proud of Robert and James. I was also proud of myself. I stayed chill. I remembered important bits from my childhood experience when I needed them. That was a tender mercy from God. We had the resources and skills we needed to swim safely to shore and get help without any emergency gas, but we didn't have to do it. I was grateful for my Dad taking me out on his boat. I was grateful for running out of gas in other situations. I was grateful for a small tank of emergency gas that got us home with minimal fuss. 

This experience made me happy.

I'm Proud of This

I think I finally found a sourdough method that works for me :) Here are my two most recent sourdough boules. They look good AND they taste sour. Things can always be tweaked a little further, of course, but if I never make them any better than this, I'll still be delighted.

One day, our dryer vent tube thingy tore off at the end. I hacked something together in a pinch that worked so-so, but knew I would need to take the dive and replace it entirely pretty soon. It LOOKED like an easy job. I couldn't think of ANYTHING that could go terribly wrong in the repair. And yet, *sigh*, it took me weeks before I got the courage to go pick up the parts and a couple weeks more to finally give it a go. Turns out, it WAS an easy job. And now we'll have a whole lot less humidity and lint in our laundry room bathroom. Now the garbage disposal needs to be replaced. That looks like a HORRIBLY difficult job...plumbing, electricity...I purchased the replacement disposal but *shudder* I think I'll need to watch a few YouTube tutorials before tackling that one. 

ACES Academies 2022

This last week was ACES Family Academies. It's an event offered to alumni of the U of I College of ACES (Agricultural, Consumer, and Environmental Sciences) and their children or grandchildren aged 8-13 years. I got to go with Robert and James. James wasn't feeling well (a head cold, Covid test was negative) so he went home halfway through :( but we got to stay in the dorms, eat at the cafeteria, and attend classes in several topics within the ACES curriculum.

Here's the thing: Robert didn't want to go if James was going. He said ACES Academies was so fun last time (2019) because it was him and Alex. They played around and joked back and forth and teased each other and had fun the whole time regardless of the classes we took. I really enjoyed that about last time, too. I thought maybe this would give Robert and James a chance to develop common ground out of the routine of house and home. Robert was not a believer. James thought Matthew could possibly take Robert's place and all the boys were happy with that. But it wasn't to be. Matthew was still too young. Registration had been paid for two kids. Robert had to go. 

James had swim lessons, so Robert and I went to check in on our own. Robert was charming and funny and light-hearted. He was flexible and easy-going. Then we picked up James and suddenly he was the domineering, 100% literal, hen-pecking Robert we knew so well from home. James' presence flipped a switch. Suddenly, Robert hated the event and everything about it. I will confess that the 1-hour seminar on building goals wasn't pleasant for any of us. At one point, when the get-up-and-talk-to-other-families exercises crossed the line from a semi-tolerable ice breaker (i.e. uncomfortable) to "oh crap, HALF of her presentation is based on this" (i.e. absolute torture), James and I made up an excuse to leave the room and explore outside a bit. Robert preferred to stay in the room and sit alone because that would be "less weird." 

Our first class together was on popcorn genetics. We all thought that was pretty cool. We learned some corn history (very cool!). Then we got to use playing cards to "breed" our own strain of orange popcorn from regular popcorn and orange dent corn (two very, very different kinds of corn, by the way). James loved answering questions about genetics. Robert was all over the statistical bit. Then we ate popcorn.

The "tailgate" dinner was meh. They had a bunch of lawn games out there to play after eating. James and I hung back. Robert found a group of kids playing tug-o-war and watched along the periphery until he had a chance to jump in and make a difference. He's so strong. Robert was easily a head taller than 90% of the kids in attendance. At one point, after James had gone home, he told me that his body feels big enough that he "shouldn't" want to play games with the kids, but he still kinda wants to play games with the kids. He just wished the kids were older/bigger so he could play games with peers, not "little" kids aged 10 and 11.

After the tailgate, they took us on a tour of the football stadium and the basketball arena. Everyone got to go onto the field/court and play ball. We're not big on Illini sports, so these locations meant very little to us, but it was a dream come true for some of these families. 

Our night in the dorms was yucky. My bedroom key didn't work and there was no one on duty to sort it out, so I ended up sharing a twin bed with sicky James. Not fun. We both slept terribly. I sent him home the next morning before breakfast. Poor guy. He was so relieved to be going home, though. 

Robert and I headed to breakfast and suddenly he was the playful, easy-going, hilarious version of Robert again. I don't know why Robert feels so defensive around James. I don't know why he needs to repeatedly put James in his place whenever the kid speaks or moves or breathes too loudly. I just wish I could fix it. 

Robert chose 3 danish pastries, a bowl of fruit loops in chocolate milk, and a big glass of root beer for breakfast. How did he not throw up?!

Our second class was about ornithology. They set up a few mist nets to catch birds and showed us what they do to tag and track birds for their studies.

Our third class was cancelled (4-H Possibilities) so we had a choice between 1) another 1-hour class on setting goals (*groan*)or 2) a campus tree hunt. Robert picked the tree hunt. Whew. That was probably a lot more fun for me than for Robert, but he tolerated it well enough. At the end, we got to make our own leaf presses to take home. That was the best part. Robert even thought to make one for James.

Robert decided that he didn't need to come back next year, even though he'd still be the right age. Matthew can't WAIT to come. James is totally up for another run :)

Here is a young female cardinal from our ornithology class.

Inside the State Farm Arena where Illini basketball happens. James is in a black shirt, Robert is in a striped orange and grey shirt. I dare you to find them. Mwah ha ha haaaaaaa!

On the field at Memorial Stadium

I could have sworn I got both of their faces in the shot. Whoops. This is a famous football player from the 20's, I think. He and Dick Butkus are the two most famous footballers to come from the U of I, but this guy's name is a whole lot harder to remember than Butkus. Just sayin'.

Me and James chilling while Robert plays tug-o-war.