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Tuesday, July 24, 2007
in which I am decidedly un-heroic
I have been noticing that I may be mildly depressed right now. Nothing so dramatic as crying fits or wanting to throw myself off bridges or seething inside with rage at the loss of the life I might have lived if I hadn't been such a loser... just this faint whiff of, well, mostly, laziness. I'm faced with the monumental task of having to move all of our belongings from the place I have lived for essentially my entire adult life, into another house that may never, for all we know, emerge intact from the ethereal mists of home-buying confusion. Here are the ways my heroes would handle this situation.
My eighty-year-old spunky grandmother would work herself into a coma.
My mother would make an organized list, divide it into days, and have the whole job done efficiently and promptly within three weeks.
My dad would build a new house with his own two scarred hard-working hands, multiple sclerosis be damned, on land someone gave him as a prize for being the best man in the world.
Jesus would speak kindly and rationally to everyone around him, and they would miraculously and willingly do things his way. Except for the ones who wouldn't, but that would all be part of God's plan.
T would just power through and get it done. Well, he is powering through his (much larger than mine) part of the job, and he is getting it done, one truckload at a time.
Mary Poppins would snap her fingers a few times, and poof.
This last one -- how do-able do you think that might be? really? Because that's about all the energy I have to expend on any of this nowadays. I'm so drained from the waiting, so frustrated with the fact that this big THING that has such a huge impact on the rest of our lives is just one more piece of paper to get lost on the desk of some person at an office who thought he'd already faxed it to some other person at some other office but who really hadn't, that all I seem to have is enough energy to kind of ooze through my day, loading the dishwasher here, packing a box from an unused cupboard there, folding a load of laundry now and then, and spending a whole lot of time reading Wives and Daughters, wishing I could justify a four-hour nap each day. Or maybe two. I don't feel overwhelmed by catastrophe; I just feel by turns angry at the delays and apathetic about the entire situation. T reminds me that it's all in God's hands, but I seem to be having a crisis of unbelief right now and there's no way I can feel that. And it's harder every day to pretend that I do.
And on that cheery note, I'm taking the kids to the town pool, 'bodily emissions' and all. It's too hot to do any energetic playing outside, and we're all three of us getting a layer of winter fat, except it's July. I don't feel like doing this any more than I feel like doing anything. Maybe, though, if I just keep on doing, the ability to feel will return eventually. It's been known to happen before. Here's hoping.
Comments
You have alot to deal with right now. It can get stressful and very upseting at times. Dh is not going back to work for several more weeks and I would LOVE to come help you pack. many hands make light work and we can yap too!! We are here for you if you need help.
Posted by: debi at July 24, 2007 04:58 PM
Jeez, boy do I know what that whole "crisis of unbelief" feels like. Sooner than you think it will all fall into place and you'll see the bigger picture. He won't leave you hanging for long ;-) I love you so much and wish I could be there for you right now.
Posted by: jenn at July 24, 2007 08:56 PM
That's hard. I think that God is big enough for doubt, so don't beat yourself up unnecessarily.
You might be depressed. It also might be worth getting your iron levels checked - whenever I start moping around too much, it always turns out that I have anemia.
Posted by: Beck at July 25, 2007 10:32 AM
That's hard. I think that God is big enough for doubt, so don't beat yourself up unnecessarily.
You might be depressed. It also might be worth getting your iron levels checked - whenever I start moping around too much, it always turns out that I have anemia.
Posted by: Beck at July 25, 2007 10:32 AM
Wait, they haven't let you know about your offer, after a MONTH? No wonder you're stressed out. Having to pack up our (small) apartment after 4 years was bad enough; your task must seem monumental. When we moved here, G's job paid for the move, including two efficient guys to pack for us. What they did (and I have learned from them) is to just STUFF EVERYTHING INTO A BOX. Do not reminisce, do not hem and haw over whether it's going, just stick it in there. Makes the packing go that much faster. OF course, then you have to sort it out at the other end but at least you have the incentive to GET THOSE BOXES OUT OF MY LIVING ROOM RIGHT NOW OR ELSE.
Posted by: mary at July 26, 2007 09:07 AM
