Black Fog

Keeping things in perspective is really hard today.   This depression has creeped up on me.  The depression that has come with each pregnancy.  It feels like a black fog that covers my eyes and doesn't allow me to see things the way they really are.  Because all I see is the fog.   A blackness that pulls me down.

As I looked back at these pictures that I took today, I couldn't believe it was the same place that my feet traveled.  My eyes didn't see what my camera captured.  I was elsewhere, going through the motions.  You see, my mind was running it's anxious circles.  Chores that needed done, calls that needed made, thinking, I really don't have time for this walk today.  All I could focus on was that black fog that causes me so much anxiety and pain.

My impatience over riding everything, not allowing me to enjoy these moments.  My regret at having yelled at my kids the night before.  My guilt because I'm barely holding things together.  Barely keeping my tears inside the brims of my eyes.  Barely, smiling when I meet someone on the street.  Barely, able to hold myself together.  Trying to be strong, trying to rise above all these emotions.

Eli stops and gets out of his stroller.  He wants to throw rocks in the lake.  I take a deep breath.  I don't want him to.  I don't want to be standing at this lake any longer.  I really don't want to be anywhere right now.  I'm still not seeing clearly and don't until I looked at this picture tonight.  These are things that usually make me smile and bring me so much joy.  My son, still in his pajamas because I couldn't muster up the energy to fight the battle when he refused to get dressed.  My son, holding the garage door opener because that is what he does.  He loves to carry it around with him just waiting for the excitment of opening the door when we return home.  I missed him, my precious two year old, and the beauty of the lake.  I never saw it.

Eli sees a pair of ducks and runs over to them.  He is so excited.  I follow him.    I remember taking these pictures and thinking how nice it would be to just swim away from it all.  Just swim and swim, not worrying about anything else.   My reality pulls me back in and I start focusing on what needs to be done.

We have to say "bye bye" to the ducks and head to car.  It's time to get Owen, make lunch, and throw in a load of laundry before we go get Gabriel from school.  There isn't enough time to do everything and my anxiety starts causing me panic.  So, I take one last look at the ducks and more then anything just want to swim away.