Working through it

The last few weeks, I've been having more bouts of depression without really knowing why.  Most of the time, it's in the evening, just generally feeling down but not having a focus for it.  The things that I think should make me happy (working on my BuJo, keeping my List a Day and Today I...'s updated) haven't been.  I suspect some of it is the state my house was in for the longest time - total complete and utter disaster.  I was finding myself in that horrid catch 22 where the state of the apartment was making me so depressed that I couldn't find the energy to keep up with the state of the apartment.  

Some of that has changed today, though.  I asked Tedd to work on cleaning up the kitchen, I was going to work on the dining room, and I asked Rich and Pete to work on the living room.  We all spent a couple hours working hard on it and, while none of it is perfect, I feel more comfortable letting people into the house.  I'm hoping that I can get the boys (primarily Pete) to keep up with things so I can feel more comfortable diving into something like the bathroom on Monday.  

I'm trying to work on one very important part of me, and that is the part that is just trying to let go of the need for perfection.  I don't really expect it from anyone else, but I let it weigh me down when I don't meet my own expectations.  I constantly worry what others think of me and the state of my house/car/clothes/life.  I'm trying to let that go.  (Well, beyond trying to get and keep the house in good enough shape that they don't ask us to leave.)

It's a hard thing to do, letting go of my need for perfection, letting go of the blame I heap upon myself when things don't go quite as planned.  It's hard to not berate myself for not being the perfect wife/mom/housekeeper/friend, because I've been doing it for 40-odd years.  I'm trying to find more affirmations to remind myself that perfection isn't a necessity and that what matters most is what my boys and my husband think of me.

I read an old post on Facebook the other day that was a reminder, even all these years later, that I've never really been a bad mom.  The post was this:

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While Teddy was having an awesome time at the prerelease tournament, I got a chance to find out what I sound like through Pete's. Ears. There wasn't a lot of room for Pete to be Pete, so I brought him out to the van to play. After turning me into a variety of barnyard animals, he pretended that he was the mommy and I was the baby/boy. He read me stories before putting me to sleep, got me up and ready for school, drove me around on errands... and as I listened to this, I realized more than anyone else could tell me, that I really am a pretty good mom. It was an awesome day with my family. Today's grade: A+

I knew this 9 years ago.  Even if only for a day, I knew it.  So I need to keep reminding myself that the surprise hugs, the "I love you, Mom"'s and the fact that Pete will still come to me when he's upset mean that I'm still a good mom, especially in their eyes.  So while today, getting everything cleaned up in our own separate corners, felt good the important things was that we were doing it together with tears, yelling and screaming.  And that I could walk into the other rooms and see them for the great job they were rather than telling myself, "Later I'll have to take care of X, Y, Z in here."

I'm getting better at being the best me I can be.  It's still a work in progress.