I consider myself to be an eternal optimist. I see the glass as half full, I roll with the punches, I have a stiff upper lip, insert other positive cliche HERE. I have bad days like everyone else but I know that they will pass. Usually.
Last Monday still haunts me because I have never been that dark before. It also haunts me because while I haven’t been unable to do anything whatsoever, I still feel like my feet are mired in the mud and I cannot pull myself out of the pit. Every day since then has seen one or five things fly at me, like life has decided to give me a cross-punch, a hook, an upper and a kick to the junk for good measure. And then it peed on my head and set me on fire.
So many things, so many things.
My head is spinning and my heart is aching and, oh. Optimism has taken a vacation and I have become someone who is just waiting for another shoe to fall. Probably on my head. And then it will crush my baby toe. And then I will trip over it and fall face first back into the miry mud.
So many things, so many things.
Here is but a few of them.
My sister emailed the family a few weeks ago to tell us that she’d had a mole removed and biopsied. It first came back clean but it turns out that it’s malignant melanoma. There’s a chance that the biopsy got it all, but there’s a chance that Dr. Google is horribly right. She’s gone for a second biopsy, and we’re waiting to hear the results. She is the one sibling with whom I share both parents, and who has the same skin type as I do. I’ve made an appointment with my family Doctor for next week for her to take a look at me, because it would be stupid not to. We’re praying that she is fine because … she’s my sister, you know?
It’s no secret that I have been struggling with my career, and while I won’t go into the details here (I did already here), it’s just not been good. I don’t know where I fit, exactly, and the communication has been sub-par. I don’t belong there, but I don’t know where I do belong, which leaves me feeling stuck. I had a few neon arrows pointing a different direction yesterday, which gave me hope, but my Debbie Downer attitude as of late (TOTALLY JUSTIFIED) wonders if it will all work out. One neon sign, at least, is pretty concrete (Hi, Kami!), and another one would be pretty rad (Hi, Amanda and Shelley!), and the other signs would be great but maybe I’m grasping at straws. (Related: Hire me.)
I missed some important filings for the company that we use for our self-employment work and got a notice in the mail that they were going to DISSOLVE OUR COMPANY. Being the government, they made it sound like it was a done deal, and I quickly did the filings and sent this wordy cover letter and all of this documentation to back up why our company still exists (BECAUSE IT DOES). I’ve been fretting over this for a WEEK, but haven’t been home during their (short) work hours. When I called yesterday to see the status, expecting them to say TOO BAD SO SAD, the girl was all, “Oh! You filed! We’re all good.” Way to freak me out, Big Brother.
Matthew and I had it out on Monday. By “had it out”, I mean “addressed some relationship deficiencies in an open and honest two-hour discussion.” The details are not for the Internet, but our marriage wasn’t firing right. We’re back on track, and are thankful that we hashed it out, but having that in the midst of everything else was not my favorite. We’re both having a rough go of it and going it alone made it even worse. So was having to deal with restoration on top of everything else. Because REALLY?
The hardest thing this week has been Nathan. My baby boy is dealing with a lot of anxiety. He’s anxious about things that happened in the past (barfing, hockey checks) and anxious about things that could possibly happen in the future (barfing, hockey checks), but when you talk about what happened/is happening today that makes him anxious, there is nothing to report. This anxiety results in a “sore tummy” and it mostly happens at school. We’ve been talking and working with his teacher (who is AMAZING) and yesterday she emailed me at lunch to say that he was having a GREAT day. Shortly thereafter, he called me in tears (again) and I went to pick him up. While he packed his bags, she gave me the rundown of the afternoon. She was in tears, I was in tears, and he was (still) in tears. I’ve used every tool at my disposal (communication, cuddling, prayer) and nothing is working.
I feel like I’m failing as his Mom, because I don’t know how to make it better. Moms are supposed to make it better.
But how am I supposed to make it better for him when I can’t figure out how to make it better for me? I don’t even know.
*NEEDTOBREATHE. This song is on repeat. The lyrics are perfect for me and the chorus is especially hitting home right now.
Give me the answer
Give me the way out
Give me the faith to believe in these hard times