Freedom and hope

When I was a really young mum (and also very young) the one sentence I hated most (fine, fine, maybe not most, but it was definitely top five. I really had lots of issues then) was "enjoy every day, because time goes by so fast". Well, let me tell you the truth - it didn't. It moved, as time usually moves - in slow, agonisingly slow motion. Each hour dragging on for days, each day into months. I felt each and every moments of those early years, and I can't look back and say that enjoyment was what comes to mind as first thought. Like I said, I had issues. But when my tiny baby looked up at me and said - It's less than a month to my birthday, here is my wish-list. Do you need me to go over it with you? - I got what those well-meaning souls were talking about. My baby is nine in less than a month (and yes, I did need some explaining on the list). Two months after that my teeny tiny baby is five. And I have no idea where the time has gone.

My babies at the library

We have a long standing discussion with my parents about what the most important thing in life is, and for us it's always been time. You can't turn back the clock and you can't bring back even one minute you lost. Time, in many regards, is the one thing money can't buy. And lately it has been slipping through my fingers.

Life around here at the moment is not what you might call... Good. Actually it's rather rubbish. We are having some issues with Hidai's work, and with him being the only one actually in charge of putting money in the bank (I know it's a shocker but blogging really isn't the high paying job the rumours say it is) it has put a strain on the last couple of months. I did not react well. I like to think that people who don't know me very well think I am one of those composed and very much together people. One of those people who deal with every bump and disaster in a calm, collected and casual manner. I like to think that because in reality I am not one of those people at all. I am one of those have an anxiety attack, cry in the bathroom, and don't leave the house people. When the going get tough, and it's time for the tough to get going, I sit under a table with a box of chocolates. I know it's pathetic, and it is also why I haven't written in three weeks. I couldn't read or write or talk to anyone (I really am sorry, all the people I've ignored). I didn't bake or knit or even took photos. I wasn't on my computer other than to play Candy Crush. Things got so bad I didn't even manage to keep the laundry schedule. I couldn't tell you what was going on, because honestly I didn't think anyone would care. After all, I have already written about my anxiety attack once, and how much self-pity can anyone really stand? And if I am completely honest here, the main reason I didn't write is because I was, and still am, ashamed. I am so very very ashamed that I fell apart. I should have reacted better, I should have been stronger, I should have weathered the storm. I didn't, and still don't. But I figured after three weeks of not writing or communicating with anyone the only readers I have left are my parents, who already know all that so writing it makes no difference.

depression chocolate doesn't have to be bad chocolate

In order to write something coherent I have been sitting here for the last few hours trying to piece together the last couple of months, and all I get is a blur of Candy Crush, chocolate and tears. And it makes me angry, and even more ashamed. Because I've lost time. I've lost two months to oblivion and fear. I have lost holidays, birthdays, friends, time with the kids. I have let fear and anxiety and depression rule my life.

Hidai's birthday was shockingly bad

And I am more ashamed still, because I have no idea how to climb out of the black hole in which I find myself. I am not sure I am strong enough. And I feel small and sad and pathetic. I know it could be worse, I know that for a lot of people it is. I know the thought of the prospect of Hidai having no job for awhile shouldn't reduce me to this, and it makes me even more pathetic. So I decided to write, because no one will read anyway, and because to me it is a nightmare with one shoe dropping after the other and no breathing space, and because there are many shades of black, and this is mine.
Today is Passover Eve. Passover is one of the biggest holidays for Jewish people (and even has the movie - Prince of Egypt - to prove it). It is not one of my favourite holidays (the food isn't all that great with the whole "no flour" thing), but this year it makes me sad. It makes me sad and lonely that we are all alone, that I can't cook or bake (thanks to the fact that my hands are in a very bad shape. Because when it rains it pours), that I have lost another moment I shouldn't have.
Passover has a whole biblical story, as any serious holiday should, and obviously someone tried to kill the Jews, as in every single one of our holidays, and it is the one holiday where you really can't make the story child-friendly no matter how much you try (too many dead and abandoned kids in there). But it also has one of the most important messages, if not the most important, of all our holidays. Because Passover is all about escaping slavery. Of every type. For me, it's a slavery to my demons, to my fears and anxiety.
Passover is about freedom and hope. The two things I need more than anything right now, and the two things I just can't seem to reach.
We won't be having a proper Passover dinner this year, I could't bring myself to do that, both physically and mentally (think Christmas-meal size of dinner, than double it). But I figured baby steps are better than no steps, and bought some chocolate and wine.
So happy Passover everyone, here is to freedom and hope.
And to believing that miracles can really happen.

Picture from Here