Right now I very much want to be a person who is happy for other people’s successes.

Right now I am a person who feels like every achievement of another person is a big bright beacon pointing to a giant glaring failure in my own life.

That’s a sad and stupid place to be.

One of my daughters babysits for a truly wonderful young woman in our community who does a great job of juggling several small children and lots of responsibilities. She has a super attitude and is an excellent role model of a person who works hard on herself to be the best she can be even under immense stress and less-than-ideal circumstances. Every time my daughter comes home from this house, she tells me another inspiring story about a meal this woman made, or how organized she is, or how much my daughter loves being at her house. I used to try to mentally compare our house to theirs- ‘I also used to do this or that’… ‘Our house is also this way or that way’ (mind you, my daughter is not comparing at all, and this woman is an absolute doll, and would never compare or judge…) But nowadays I just feel like crawling under the covers and crying when she does this. Because I feel like I can’t compare. Not because I’m not a good mom too, but just because I feel like lately I have fallen down on the job…

Another of my children brought it to my attention (correctly so, and because it was relevant to a discussion we were having) that the level of interaction among members of our family has decreased dramatically. We have taken to all retreating to our separate rooms after supper and just vegging out. When there is stress, we deal with it by plugging into screens instead of each other. This is the opposite of my philosophy on how a family should be, and the opposite of how things have always been, but rather than make me want to spring into action to fix it, his observation made me want to bury myself in the backyard.

I read a friend’s blog today, because she is always incredibly inspiring to me, and has a way of setting me on the right path when my mind is veering sideways. Her post today was exactly what I needed to read (http://avivahwerner.com/ )(I love when the universe throws you goodies like that), but within a short time after getting off the computer, I was back to the same type of thoughts: Her blog is so popular and mine isn’t anymore. I used to have so many more readers than I do now. She is awesome and I am not. (Grant- I know if you are reading this you are wanting to give me a good hard shake about now, but I’m just being honest…)

I know this sounds like I am just big fat depressed, but the reality is that I’m not. I’m functioning fine, and I’m doing okay- there just seems to be a glitch in my matrix where I can’t seem to get on top of my life and I can’t figure out how to fix what’s broken. For a solutions-oriented girl like me, this is pure torture. To live with good-enough-for-now has never been acceptable. And for whatever reason, there seems to be a lot of taking stock going on right now and a lot of coming up short. I’m thinking that a lot of this has to do with medication- that I’m just not thinking clearly and I’m not processing correctly. Even on the blog, I feel like I’m writing more jibberish than quality, but I keep plunking away at the keyboard hoping that what’s just beyond that clouds of my mind will come through. But it hasn’t so far…

It used to be that when I wrote a post, it would almost knit itself together. Sometimes it was a magical thing, that by the time I came to the end, I had a point, even though that isn’t what I started with. I would read it back over and it would just feel right to me. Like I had written what needed to be said. And often, when I had something on my mind that I couldn’t resolve on my own, I would blog about it so my thoughts could coalesce more clearly, and I felt lighter after I wrote- and freer, and better for having done the writing. Now I just feel done.

And that makes me feel sad. And sometimes empty. Like I am missing an essential part of something. But I don’t know where I left it, so I can’t get it back.

Yet…