Do you ever feel like you should be asking for help, but you're not sure for what?
I'm there. And it's uncomfortable. Those who know me know that it's not like me to be so unsure....so overwhelmed....so lost. And I know that I need help getting out of this funk, I'm just not sure what kind, or how to ask.
And so, days progress into weeks and so on....and I continue to wipe and clean and read and teach and whatever else it is I know that I'm supposed to do for all of them. But inside me, this anxiety grows....an anxiety that my life is passing me by. I'm losing my days to groceries and renovations and junk mail and potty training and schedules.
And every time I think life is handing me a lifeline, it always turns out to be just another fruitless path riddled with obligation and regret.
It's been 5 months since I've been here. In that time, I've watched my foundation literally crumble. The house has been torn apart from the ground up with the discovery of one building disaster after another. And the list continues to grow with today's discovery. Despite our desperate attempts to repair and renovate, it no longer feels like a "home."
I've watched my daughter fall apart at the seams time and time again, helpless to do anything for her little crumbling spirit. And while she harnesses the exuberant energy of youth to recover from her anxiety attacks, my own resilience crumbles a little each time with the knowledge that this roller coaster ride we're on is far from over and the damage it has done is yet to be seen.
I've watched shadows of past hurts flash across this screen, reminders of the one missed step between me and his faltering vows.
My body is rejecting this life. New ailments cropping up. Infectious parts having demanded the attention of surgery and time that I did not have to spare.
But the floors are laid. The walls are freshly spackled and painted. The cracks are sealed. The joints are reinforced. And the check is in the mail.
Why then do I feel like I'm on such shaky ground?