16. Sliding Down that Mountain. Maybe calling it Glassading would make it a little fun?

Unbelievable. That is my catch word for the day. Here are the things that are unbelievable to me today:

1. Depression, especially at-work depression. This thing is tough! You think it's on its way out of your life finally and SMACK, it bitch-slaps you right in the face. How many posts have I made about this awful depression--this huge green-black, heavy, freezing wave? How many times have I thought, seriously, that I was overcoming my depression and dealing with my grief once and for all, that I'm finally getting over it, that I truly feel free? How many times has my Lord dealt with me about it, taught me lessons from it, and delivered me from it's icy grip?

2. Groveling. Today I asked Rob if I could come home. It's been ten weeks. I've decided to have rotator cuff surgery once again since I'm no longer motivated to continue with my holistic approach to these bone spurs, and my right shoulder is agonizing. The last surgery took four weeks to somewhat recover from. Rotator cuff surgery is listed among the top five most painful and debilitating surgical procedures. I'm not looking forward to it. Once again, I'll face my demons, my ANTs. Last time I had the surgery I had great motivation to recover and rehabilitate: once I got better I would be able to fly back to my home in Utah and my darling prince who loved me. This time I will spend the entire month of rehab thinking with this one: well Robby sure isn't waiting for you to get well and come home this time, is he now...

Wailing. Not just crying, sorrowful, sniffling little crying. Big. Loud. Wailing crying. I haven't cried this hard since the day I left for Spokane.

15. I give because I love.

Today is Friday. I bought, wrapped and shipped some gifts to Wenatchee. It was fun buying the gifts, but while I was wrapping them I began to think of Rob and wondering if he was going to do Christmas for his grandchildren. I ended up getting doused with a moderate wave of sadness, it was a little slip down the mountainside.

It's so dark here so early, because we are only 30 minutes from the mountain standard time zone. It gets dark at 4:30 pm. Today I got my gifts shipped, plus my Christmas cards, plus the slideshow copies I did for a friend of mine in Portland. I'm glad that's all done.

This is my first post written completely without any pain meds on board. I'm not having a hard time thinking of something to write, but I will admit to not feeling as chatty as normal.

14. Climbing a Mountain

I found this amazing quote today from Mrs. Charles Cowman's Streams in the Desert:

"He knows what is best for me. My environment is of His determining. He means it to intensify my faith, to draw me into nearer communion with Himself, to ripen my power. In the dungeon my soul should prosper...so, let come what will come, His will is welcome; and I shall refuse to be offended in my loving Lord."

Yesterday I had coffee with my friend Lori. I told her how excited it was to be finally in a position of actually seeing God work in this heart-wrenching journey. I haven't known Lori very long, but every time I talk with her she lends a generous pastoral ear, offers sound advice, and gently keeps me grounded in reality. Lori faithfully reminded me that I'll continue to have ups and downs, or ebbs and flows as I continue on towards Life After Divorce; that there will still be times of confusion for me, except now I'll no longer be floating meaninglessly in open sea, going nowhere. Now my ebbs and flows have a sense of purpose and are directing me toward shore.

It was really important for me to hear that. Last night my head cold deteriorated and I started feeling really lousy. That in turn opened me up to some back territory: little stabs of depression and self pity. What little sleep I did get was interrupted by bad dreams. I awoke several times with a fever and coughing, and just had an all-around cruddy night.

This morning I was reminded of Lori's counsel that there will continue to be ups and downs. Had I not heard that yesterday I would have awakened this morning feeling like all my earlier successes were shot; I'd hopelessly feel like I'm never going to find peace. Sitting at the table of reality is such a fine place to be! Of course there are going to be ups and downs in my future. Clearing one hurdle doesn't mean through with the race is through. The devotion above helps remind me that God is sending me UP this mountain slowly, one step at a time. Sometimes I'll slip and fall back but when I do I'll re-climb in steps already planted into the mountainside. These little slips backward only serve to nurture, fuel, and validate my climb.

I will never be offended that my Lord is doing what is absolutely best for me; that He has a plan for a much, much better life for me.

13. A Prayer, a Broom Bush, and a TURNING POINT!

Something strange and profound happened today. I made the realization that fat, lazy Sadness ANTs about Utah have no effect on me any more. The usual layer of dark blues that try to coat my little brain are losing their power over me. ALL my taunting memories from Utah have just sorta stopped bothering me at all. Huzzah! I'm taking this as a very good sign; a directional arrow pointing to the Big A (Acceptance!) Washington memories: you're next.

It's really weird, and totally out of my control: every single one of my memories of Utah, without exception, is being blocked by some kind of blessedly negative vibe that seems to be shielding my fragile self. For example: it's 5 degrees outside with frosty sunshine when I take Samuel to school. The six-weeks-ago Tracy would have shed a tear at the sight, being flooded with memories of Utah mornings crisp and bright with hoar frost shimmering everywhere. That in turn would have led to thinking about my happy little job at the ski resort, which would have led to meeting Rob for breakfast burritos at work... all snowballing into a big fat WAVE of depression.

Now I can't will myself to 'miss' anything about Utah. Even the very best memories seem to be blocked by some internal defense mechanism going UM NO, THAT WAS IN FACT NOT A GOOD TIME FOR YOU, REMEMBER YOU WERE IN THE THROES OF A DESPERATE WAITING GAME AND CONSTANTLY CRYING ABOUT BEING STRUNG ALONG??

Thank You God!! This is a gift. This is something from You. It all came about after I prayed a few days ago about the prophet Elijah. It seems he had been running for his life and was drop dead exhausted. He came to a lone broom bush in the desert and plopped his sorry, tired rear under it, saying okay Lord, stick a fork in me, I'm done. I can go absolutely no further, not one more step. I don't care what happens any more, I'm just too tired to go on. So this angel appeared and told him it was ok if he didn't want to run any more; that God just wanted Elijah to eat and drink something, and sleep. The angel provided some food and water and Elijah ate, drank, and slept until he was completely rested.

That's exactly where I was the other night. I was so weary from trying in vain to escape tormenting memories that were chasing me, and I finally pleaded with God, saying look, I'm like Elijah, here. I am exhausted and cannot run away any more. You simply must do something about these memories that are attacking me, because I don't have any strength left to fight them off.

And He said Tracy, rest. Rest assured, I give you My word those memories will no longer chase you. There I was, under my own dismal little broom bush, completely spent, and my Lord said OK you've had enough. I'm going to intervene now.

12. A.N.T.s: Automatic Negative Thoughts (Change Your Brain, Change Your Life by Dr. Daniel Amen, MD)

The ANTs are marching.
Today I'll be flying to Vancouver for a doctor's appointment. All morning I've been lying in bed, terrified to face this day. For eleven months my monthly trip to Vancouver has always been the exact same ritual for me: driving to Mom and Dad's in Rob's white truck, spending the night, seeing the doc early in the morning, then driving back to Olympia in time to get to work by 1 pm. Same thing. Same path. Every month. I could make the trip in my sleep.

Today I will arrive via the Portland airport. Kimi will thankfully be with me, as she is winding up a four day visit with us here in Spokane. Mom will pick us up, we'll drop Kim off, then head home. This time I'll pull into their driveway as a passenger, in my mom's car. My dad will be inside watching Fox News; he'll smile and say wassup kido when I walk in the door. I'll inevitably look out the window and Robby's white truck will not be in the driveway. It will hit me like a ton of bricks: tomorrow I won't be rushing off to hit I-205 northbound, I'll come back to this house; I'll be trying to just--breathe.

The next day the weight of yet another wave will crash down as I walk out to the driveway, sans white truck, and load my stuff into mom's car to head back to the Portland Airport. Finally, for the depression coup de grace, I will walk past the flights headed to Salt Lake City where I went so many, many times before, and will instead choose a gate whose flight is headed for Spokane, Washington.

11. It's Really Not All About Me. Really.

Today I woke up really, really low. It's just now 10:45 and I just got out of bed, after a sickening blow to the gut of depression, followed by two bouts of a good cry. And right now I have to ask myself: my gawd girl, what are you thinking? So much incredible pain out there right this minute and you're all undone over a five year relationship? A 22 month marriage? Really?

Right now a woman in Sacramento is grieving over the loss of her husband of 40 years. Jerry's twin sister, my former sister-in-law, and my friend for 23 years, is sitting alone in a big house filled with forty years of memories. Seven weeks ago her world came crashing in when her husband Kenneth was diagnosed, out of the clear blue sky, with a deadly brain tumor. He went quickly, and last week she became a widow. Five weeks before she lost him they were planning for Thanksgiving with their family and Christmas with their grandson. They had no idea those holidays would never come for them; that she would actually spend them as a solo mommy, a solo grandma.

Right now four families; three wives and one husband are in a daze, on their own private journeys of bitter alone-ness, weighed down under their own waves of loss so profound it makes my own loss seem pitiful and ridiculous. They are the families of the four Lakewood police officers who lost their lives in a senseless, shocking mass assassination while they sat innocently in a Pierce County coffee shop. They will not spend Christmas with their husbands or wife, dads or mom. They will watch little ones open presents, already purchased, from their lost relatives, and figure out how they're going to explain this glaring aberration.

Somewhere someone is dying, someone is getting a grim diagnosis, someone is on the phone calling everyone in the book because a teenager did not come home. The waves are cold, huge, dark. They are ripping open the hearts of good men and women who, like me, had no idea they even existed, much less were about to pound down on top of them.

Who am I, God, reader, to be so caught up in my little pain? My loss is miniscule, really. I hope and pray that this realization will help me battle the terrible fear of what lies ahead for me. How sad is that... me me me. God would You please, please take this pain I have for my own silly circumstances and turn it into pain for those suffering losses I can't even imagine?

I prayed this once a couple of weeks ago: Lord, break my heart, as You've done, not for my own life situation, but for others' pain and loss. Break my heart, God, for the lost.

10. Out of Meds: crushed

Tonight I swallowed what bit of pride I had left after all this and asked Rob for a little help with my December meds and doctor's appointment. Now that I live in Spokane I have to fly to see my pain doc rather than just drive down from Olympia. That's an extra hundred bucks on top of the cost of the appointment and the meds themselves.

I sent him an email outlining this, and reminding him that had I still lived in Olympia working full time I'd not need any help from him at all, but anything he could do to help me out would be appreciated.

He ignored me completely. This is a hurting night, knowing he is so calloused and cold; that his spirit is so black.