Apparently, I’m really into brackets. Those are brackets, right? Ah, yes. The other ones are braces, or curly brackets. Of course.
There is a new trend among my blogging friends: they don’t blog. Of my 30 or so friends (the ones I know in real life) who have a blog, only one is consistently blogging. (Hi, Scherck. Keep up the good work.) Where did you all go? I think this lady nailed it with dead-on-balls accuracy in this post. This dance party isn’t so much fun any more. You went home, but I’m hanging out here in the ugly lights. Maybe I should call a cab.
For me, I haven’t blogged in a long time because I feel that I can’t really be honest about where I am right now. I’m in a bit of dark spot. Yes, I have dealt with depression on and off since I was a teenager, but I’m not sure this is depression. I think it’s just circumstantial. My husband is in medical school, and I stay at home with two kids under four. I don’t particularly enjoy staying at home. I teach part-time, but it’s only a few hours a week. I volunteered to sing with the opera workshop class at OU this semester because I need to get out more. I sing with a church choir on Wednesdays and Sundays. All in all, it’s about 10 hours a week. These are generally the 10 happiest hours of my week.
I don’t like to talk about this because every time I google “motherhood frustration” or “parenting anger,” they–the Internet They–tell me I should go to therapy to deal with my feelings. Why? So I can feel even guiltier than I do now?
I don’t want to go to more therapy. I already know what the problem is: I need to go back to work. The problem with that is I already have the job I’m best qualified for in my area; there is simply not enough demand for a non-collegiate voice studio to run full-time in Athens, Ohio. I could apply for an administrative position somewhere, but those types of jobs pay about $10/hour here, and that is the cost of childcare. As you can see, I’m stuck.
I’m in the process of applying to grad school (again) for music therapy. I feel that working toward a career that will allow me to work in music full-time will be a boon to my mental and emotional health. They say that I will feel normal again when my youngest child is three. That’s a year and a half away. I guess July 2015 should be a pretty month. I’ll drink to that.photo credit: Brian