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Every other Saturday night there is a Supercross race.  We DVR it.  On Sunday we all sit in the basement in front of our ancient TV and watch. 



A couple things to note.....
My youngest is on a Barbie bike.  It doesn't look like a Barbie bike  but I assure you it is.  I brought it home from work with the intent of giving it to my niece.  It didn't take long and he was riding it around the basement.  And it wasn't just him.  My seventeen year old started riding it too.  Sometimes they  fight over it. 

My husband decided that if we were going to keep it, we needed to " man it up" a bit.  So he painted it army green. 




During races, Micah rides that bike around and around.  Sometimes in front of the race.  Much to the irritant of everyone watching. 


Complete with sound effects. 

My other son divides his time between texting and watching.


Ginger joins in the fun too.


I actually don't watch the race.  I'm afraid to see the riders crash.



I busy myself with computer stuff.

Even though I don't watch, it's still a good time. 

 Being with my family.  Listening to them holler at the TV.  Holler at each other.  Watch Darren ride that Barbie bike. 
I will always call it the Barbie bike. 
Sometimes I say, "Micah!  It's your brothers turn!  Share the Barbie bike! Stop fighting over the Barbie bike!

Something I thought I would NEVER say in a house full of boys. 

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I didn't until yesterday.  I didn't even know what the ribbon color was.
  Lime green. 
 Interesting. 

I am all for spreading the word.  Not just in May.  But every month.  Because the more people understand that depression is a real illness the better.

Its  embarrassing to tell people what I suffer from.


And that is ridiculous. 

 It is HARD living with this. And when people don't understand or say stupid things....it makes it even harder. 

I don't blame them for not understanding.   I feel shame when having to explain to someone that even though I have it all,  sometimes I  feel like dying. 

It doesn't make since. 

So.

 I probably won't be wearing any lime green this month. 

Not because I don't care.  I just don't have anything that color. 

But I will try to spread the word.  Correct misconceptions. 

Depression, bipolar, schizophrenia.

They are real illness.  Like cancer.  Only with cancer, you get well or it takes you. 

With mental illness you learn to cope.  Or it takes you. 

 I want to say this.



That message is for me too. 

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Let's talk about sleep.  Or lack there of. 

I've only been getting about four hours a night. 

NOT ENOUGH.

I lay awake with my eyes wide open.  Tossing and turning.  Staring at the clock. 

I try to take naps and my dreams are so real that it feels like I'm awake. 

I've tried Benadryl and NyQuil.  I just bought some melatonin so I'm hoping that will work. 

I have a constant dull headache.  My body feels heavy.  My mind is foggy.

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I gave this to my husband.

He loved it.  

 I love him best.

But Diet Coke is a close second.

Oh wait...

The children.

They are a tie.

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I saw Jamie today. We talked about eating disorders.  Probably because I told her I skip breakfast.

 And lunch. 

It's no surprise that eating disorders and depression go hand in hand.  Depression is self hate.  You pick at yourself constantly. When you hate yourself, it makes since that you hate the way you look as well.   Which makes you try to do something about it.  Even if that means drastic measures. 

She wanted to know about my food history.   
I said that I did try to make myself throw up a couple of times but couldn't do it. 
I told her I couldn't even do a eating disorder right!
I was kind of joking. 
She didn't think it was very funny. 
 She asked me how I felt after I eat.

"Guilty."

And when I don't?

"Happy that I had the self control not to."

She asked if I will be happy when I hit my goal weight. 

I said I have been there before.....and no, I still wasn't happy with myself. 

She said ,"Its not about the food.  Food is just food.  It is not a reward or a punishment.  It shouldn't make you feel guilty or happy.  It's just food."

She told me I have a distorted view of myself. 

I told her that my flaws are real!  Here let me show you!

She said, "Your WORTH is not based on flaws or pounds."

She said, "Instead of dieting I would really like to see you exercise instead. And not just walking your dog.  Maybe join a class."

I told her all of the excuses I could think of.

She said ,"I think you should do this for yourself."

I said, "It's really hard to do things for myself."

She said, "I know it is.  But you should try."

I told her I would look into it.  And try to eat more.

 Our time was up. 

I really do want to be healthy.  I want to be strong.  Both mentally and physically.  I think if the mental healing comes along  then the physical part will follow.  Or maybe it's the other way around.  I don't know.

I just want to be happy with myself.

 Inside and out.

Ive never felt it before. 

I think it would be amazing.

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At the beginning of the school year my son begged to join the school band and play the trumpet. 

We said NO.  Because for one.....he doesn't have a good record of following through on things.  And two....it was the trumpet.  It's loud. 

I suggested the flute.  Or even the triangle! 

However the trumpet is kind of a family thing.  His Grandpa plays and he was taught by his Father.  So we thought it would actually be kind of cool if Micah kept the tradition going. 

The trumpet is hard to play.  You don't just blow into it.  You have to purse your lips and  make them vibrate. 

I've tried it and I can make a sound but after awhile it hurts. 

Micah mastered the sounds, learned the notes and in no time at all was playing tunes. 

Fast forward six months.  We are invited to a 5th and 6th grade concert.  String Orchestra, Band and Chorus. 




About 500 kids participated.  Most of which couldn't play a single note or even hold their instrument properly six months ago. 

I was nervous. Nervous for all these young kids.  Nervous for the band teachers who had worked so hard trying to make something out of nothing.  Nervous for him. I had heard him play the songs over and over and sometimes....the notes were very loud and very wrong. 






Do you see him?  Green shirt and glasses.  He looks a little dazed.




He said he saw us right away.  That we stuck out.  I hope that was a good thing.  Maybe it was my green hair.



Bad lighting.

The string orchestra performed first.  I wasn't sure what to expect.

  Screeching?  Mass chaos?

The music teacher stood up on the platform and raised her arms.  The kids lifted their instruments all in unison. 



It was beautiful.

 They played a medieval song, the Jaws theme, a classical piece and  Smoke on the Water. 

Very cool. 

Then it was the band's turn.  I think I was holding my breath. 



And then. 

 The song that I had heard him practice over and over. The one that sort of sounded like a song and sort of sounded like something was missing.  The one that at times....I cringed when he played. The one that was his favorite. 

It sounded amazing. 

 The empty silences I heard at home, while he counted by tapping his foot, was filled with other instruments playing.

  The song came together. 
 
I think I grinned the entire time. 

It was a marching song.  The second was called Creatures in the Attic.  Next was Eye of the Tiger.  The last piece was called Let's Go Band.  

My kid totally rocked.

The chorus was next.  The kids did a beautiful job.  However I think that they should have done the singing first.  People started zoning out. 

I caught this guy playing solitaire. 



I looked at Micah.  He was holding two trumpets.  I think his buddy was in chorus. 




You can kind of tell by the looks on the kids faces that they were over it. 




Afterwards there was a mass decent down the bleachers and into the super crowded hallway. 

Everyone trying to find their kid. 

I found mine wandering around outside. 

 I hugged him so tight.

  He was so pumped.  He talked all the way home. He asked what  our favorite part was.  He talked about how nervous he was when he entered the gym.  And how loud the percussion's were.  How his lips hurt. 

How he wanted to do band again next year. 

I was so grateful to be there.   To not just be in the audience but to feel happiness.  Enjoyment.  Pride. 

He is my rock star. 

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