I've been in a funk lately. It has felt oppressive, like very high heat and humidity combined. It's been too heavy to lift on my own and too dark to see through.
It started before school began again. The Thursday before school began, I took Handsome and Rascal to Grumppa for the school year. Grumppa and Granny Bear raise the boys during the school year so that they live close to their mother. Grumppa is 63 years old and works a full-time, physically demanding, outdoor job. So, when we met up for him to take the boys home, he was coming straight from work, and he looked like hell. And I knew that there was no way he would get any rest with two boys, 11 and 8, in his house, and it broke my heart.
I went home that night sad, but I didn't talk to the Engineer about it, the situation is just impossible, and I was afraid I'd start crying and not stop.
Friday and Saturday passed in a busy blur of "Meet the Teacher", getting school uniforms ready, converting the boys' room backing into a guest room and preparing for friends to come over on Monday.
Sunday was filled with church activities, making gifts for teachers and well-meaning friends asking if Monkey was ready for kindergarten. And she was.
And before I knew it, it was Monday. I took the girls to school, took pictures, got them settled in their classrooms, and left. I came home and got out the refreshments I'd made for my friends and set out Grammy's china. My friends came and we talked and cried "first day of school" tears. And then they left.
And the quiet of my house echoed.
And as the week progressed, and the laundry, grocery shopping and housework started getting "caught up", the silence grew louder, and more frightening. And I didn't tell the Engineer because I didn't know what to say.
I spent an entire half of one day in my sweats, eating Cool Ranch Doritos on the couch, watching "reality" TV. When I finally got up to get into the shower, I wanted to cry.
I've felt worn-out, worthless and unwanted. I've felt lonely and purposeless. I miss the children, sometimes so much that I think I can't breathe.
And the funk wrapped around me like a hot, heavy, wet blanket and I couldn't move or breathe. But I recognize the funk and am fighting back. I've told the Engineer and I have a plan. I'm telling people, and I'm taking care of myself and I'm going to win this fight with the funk.