Transparent Moments: the struggle is real

by Becca McConnell | Sep 10, 2022 | Anxiety, Coping with Stress, Depression, Devotional Moment, Family Health, Motivation, Self Care

I just want to start by saying I miss things.

I miss activities, adventures, groups, friends, connections, etc.

Last night there was a football game at our high school. I have two boys who attend that school.

We did not go…

Last year, one of my sons expressed great interest in joining the football team, even took some steps to get there…

All the forward movement was halted when he had a sports physical that resulted in questions about his progress in puberty. He is less than three months from his fifteenth birthday.

There is no puberty.

Never was.

No signs of it even starting.

Instead, there is a nonactive tumor squishing his pituitary gland.

This is not about that, though. That is an entirely different story in itself.

This is about missing out… and trying to figure out why, how, and if we can fix this problem.

Yes, I’m being transparent here.

There’s a lot to say. There’s a lot to be transparent about.

Why? Because I know I’m NOT the only one who struggles with this, exact issue regarding “missing out.”

Let’s go back a few years (Okay maybe a decade or more…) when I was an active member of society.

I had high hopes and dreams for a future with kids in sports, clubs, doing all the things I was able to do as a child and even more! Cub Scouts, Sunday School, youth groups, school sports, little league sports, all the things.

Life threw a curve ball here and there… well, it threw a LOT of them.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I know everyone gets curve balls thrown at them! Again, major reason we are being transparent here…

I’m not special. My struggles are not “bigger than yours” but everyone handles every level of stress, negative life events, loss, and betrayals differently.

Me? Yeah… I hid from the world.

Long story short, a decade of less-than-healthy choices (both external and internal choices) lead me to isolating myself.

I was sad when those close to me didn’t get involved with the things I was so excited about for my kids. I was overworked being the only one who took them to events, helped with homework, projects, socializing them, etc. I was already struggling with my own depression and to add burn-out to the pile just shut me down.

And shut down I remained… for a solid three years. Minimum.

I hid myself and my family from the world.

I was tired of hearing falsehoods about myself and my family from people who didn’t even know me.

I was tired of being seen at the grocery store and then hearing a whole, new rumor about myself a week later from “concerned friends.”

I was tired of carrying a label. I was “the bad guy” in a lot of things. Everywhere I turned I didn’t see “friends” anymore. I saw spies. I saw liars. I saw betrayal at every turn.

Eventually, I stopped seeing anything good.

My vision was murky with pain, heartache, anxiety, depression, loss, and eventually… full-blown bitterness.

Bitter Becca. That’s what I dubbed myself.

Yep. I did. I wore my own title like a badge and shield.

It has taken me years to grow from the little, broken roots that I was cut down into.

Four years, to be exact.

I would take a step forward and then two steps back over the course of the past four years. Sometimes I would break even, and I would get so excited! Then another step back.

Of my 5 children, two are in special education classes. I have often wondered if I could have done something to prevent this from happening for them. Was it me? Did I not work hard enough to get them through to a higher level?

They don’t have many friends, limited to the ones secluded in these classrooms with them for their entire academic life.

My one, school-aged child who is not in such classes struggles with depression (possibly related to the puberty issue? We don’t really know), also very few friends, and the inability to follow through with many things. Again, I sit and wonder if I have ‘less-than-succeeded’ with him as well.

I lived years without taking my kids into society. School was it. They never asked to go to games, events, trips, etc.

My oldest did go to a couple of dances during Junior High, before Covid stole that from us. To see his face light up the way it did when he got home, telling stories about how fun the music was, learning some cool moves, the snacks and drinks they got to enjoy made my heart so glad.

Sometimes I wonder how that could be 4 years ago…

I sit in my bed, unable to sleep many nights, and reflect on things. I write in my journal, make lists in my notebooks, read books and my Bible, scroll FB and watch a world around me be social and active, and I have cried.

Not tears of depression.

Tears of fear. Actual Fear.

Because I want to go. I want to get out there.

But I have come so far mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually in my little isolated space that the thought of stepping out and ending up with another “step back” wrenches my gut!

My family, and my few, close friends can tell stories of me being excited about a thing and then talking myself out of it within minutes.

I want to be involved. I want my kids to be involved.

I’m just trying to figure out how to push past my fear. Fear that developed a lack of interest, motivation, and increased avoidance of public places and events.

My fears used to be focused solely on people talking. Over time it just became a fear of people, period.

I will say that I am happy Child #3 expressed interest in participating in the Labor Day Parade last week with his aunt. And he obviously had a blast!

My oldest expressed a renewed interest in music last night. Band, specifically.

In elementary school he wanted to be in the band. He struggled with the multi-step instructions and music reading, resulting in his not being given that desired opportunity.

He mentioned it again last night as we watched the band prepare for the football game.

My boys attend an e-sports group after school on some days, and yesterday happened to be one. As I was picking them up, people were arriving to the school to prepare for the game.

I mean… is it too late? Is he too old? Did I cause him to lose out on opportunities in life? These are questions I ask myself at night when I am alone in my room.

Can I turn some things around, upside right, and build us up from where we stand today?

I think I can one minute and then I question myself the next.

So, here in my transparent moment, I want to step up and step out.

Maybe the next football game, I won’t talk myself out of going.

Take a step. And then take another.

Someone recently told me that first steps are hard, and she is right. But they are necessary to keep going forward.

And like a baby learning to walk, I took my first ones a little shaky.

If there is anyone out there who is struggling, whether it be anxiety like me, addiction, depression, fear, or anything…

Just know I’m taking some first steps too.

We can start together.

And… we can make it to the top together.

I almost feel super pumped right now. Haha!

I just want to raise my fist in the air today and say “by golly I’m going to socialize! In person!”

And when I finally do… I’ll let you know how it goes. 😊

Thank you for enduring my transparent moment for the day.

All the smiles,

B