I find myself a complete psycho-wreck. I argue with myself over every decision. "Should I take this? Pack it? Sell it?" must be applied to every household item. I feel my mental faculties breaking down, now, when I look at my kitchen-aid, and ask myself if I can live without it for a year. Frustration sets in, and I begin cussing when a cabinet won't shut properly, or the door isn't left open when I thought it was, and I run my elbow into when passing with a box. Violet is ever-sensitive to my emotional status, and she begins to worry, which shows itself in the frequency of her, "Momma?"s They turn into near-shrieking, "Momma-Momma-Momma-Momma-Momma?!"s and I bark at her, "STOP TALKING!!"
She looks at me in wonderment when I appear in the room, and says, "Did you yell???" I apologize, swallowing down guilt, and try to explain what frustration is. I ask her to keep her voice quiet. She says, "But, can I say, Momma, Momma?" I then find myself making a rule that she may only say, "Momma" one time, then she must wait. For Momma's sanity. Gosh, who DOES that?!
Once my husband came home, I curled up in a fetal position on my couch, the only thing left in my living room besides boxes, and just forced myself to look at the coming year....without Ben....in a new home.....and let it out. I cried for 15 minutes without stopping....and my stomachache went away. At least, for a little while. It came back that night after I shared some of Ben's chicken wings at our favorite, B.J.'s restaurant. Mistake. :(
The rest of the afternoon, however, went beautifully. The Holy Spirit definitely gave me rest, and I managed to get quite a lot done.....and spent time with my family, too, at the mall, and got a lovely haircut. :D
I told Ben, "Remind me that I need to cry more often. At least once a day." It just has to be done. Apparently, one must train oneself to cope, whether it be to "suck it up and drive on" for some or "cry it out" for others.
Share my burden of grief with me as you look at these pictures. Remember my home? The one which received the award for "Best-decorated in Your Neighborhood" from Equity Housing? *Sigh*
Good thing my real home is in heaven.
5 comments:
Oh, man, Su. I am sorry. Could you be pregnant? I mean, the puking, the crying.... sorry, had to ask.
I feel for you. I wish I could be there. Don't beat yourself up for loosing it once in a while.
This, too, will pass. Deep breaths. Long baths. Try to laugh about something every day as well as cry. And I will come visit you when you get here, and help you paint and unpack, 'kay? We'll watch a funny movie and I'll make you a decadent dessert. Something French. And I'll watch Violet while you get your nails done or something. Course, Lis will have to be in on this too of course. Hang in there, my dear friend. I am praying for you.
Hos is right, Just hang on for a few more days and then we can all help you shoulder the burden.
And by the way, I highly recommend the regular times to "cry it out". As I'm sure you remember ;)
Love you,Susi! Wish I could help. Don't worry about being depressed when you get here, though. We'll paint the town red, Huh? :)I would imagine you'll be too busy having fun, to be upset. We'll see you soon!
You'll get settled in, in no time, too. I love helping with that kind of stuff! We'll make it real cozy, like you're other home. Just tell us what you want, and we can be you're legs. When we come, I mean. :) It will be fun!?!
goodness! i've been crying fountains myself! in fact, i posted my last post before even reading this one! then again, i'm pregnant.
i'm sorry this move has been such a stressful one. i'm glad you got it all out though. not a single. thing. wrong with crying. especially when you know Jesus and he eventually wipes away the tears :)
Hugs your way!
Post a Comment