The Funk visits whether I had a kid-weekend or a me-time weekend. Usually after a kid-weekend it hits me later in the evening because I'm busy with them, but it still comes and even the kids notice I get crabby those days. But its worse on my me-time weekends because I am alone, and especially lately, that in itself has been difficult for me. And Sunday is always a waiting game for the kids to come home and then they always suffer with the separation from their dad after a weekend with him. See, he's not a Wednesday-nights-with-the-kids-divorced-dad because he lives 45minutes away and won't drive up here mid-week for a few hours. He's a every-other-weekend-dad, Friday after school to Sunday evening. Its not a lot of time and although I know he loves them and gives them a great time when he has them, its not regular enough. So on top of my own Funk, I deal with their Funk too. Not fun.
I wish I knew how to better handle the Funk. It begins with me dredging up sad thoughts almost on purpose...wallowing in things, like missing Romeo, or feeling sorry for myself trying to figure out the dating world, or if I'm doing enough with the kids. I get very quiet and think and pray and mope. When I dated Romeo, Sundays were the days I questioned his devotion to me or the kids, and I pulled away from him, knowing our alone-time was at its end for the week. I know, that sounds counterproductive, but the Funk made me do it. Nowadays it just means all my fun activities and free time are put on hold for the week, and I'm back to the grind of my weekly duties.
The first step to changing this is hopefully admitting the Funk exists, then blogging about it :), and we'll see...tomorrow is Monday, so it may be a week before I'll know.
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