At this point, I have to admit, I have not dealt with the current phase of life very well. At all.
There once was a time in my life that, over a 4 year period, I had lived in 10 different places in 3 different states. And shook it off each time.
But, reality is, that was 15 years ago.
And the harsh reality has been that things have really changed a lot in that time.
This whole season can pretty much be summarized as failed expectations.
The entire timeline of the first move becoming a laughable joke mainly due to my mistaken expectations of how my knee was going to do.
Did you notice the word "first" there? Yeah, we moved again only 6 weeks later.
Let’s just say the financial impact of that is not pretty, and looks nothing like had been planned.
Where even after the prior knee lesson, I dramatically underestimated the impact of agreeing to an apartment with steps when the one we’d leased had unforseen issues that didn’t pass their own inspection and would take a bit to get fixed, when we were on a tight time frame.
Then there’s the starting of my kiddo into a virtual school being much more of a rough transition than had been expected.
And the starting of my kiddo into another high school, that I never would have chosen, after she literally got kicked out of the virtual school.
And a transition in billing systems at work that went poorly enough to have three different news stories done on how awful it was going… Being much worse than expected in general, but also personally both on my learning the new system and on my dealing with the sudden onslaught of furious jerk callers (some with legit reason which actually makes it harder, but also many without).
There’s so much detail that I’m skipping here, maybe for another day, maybe not. All of the above have very long stories to them, and there’s a bunch of minor stories that could get tossed in as well.
But the biggest failure in expectations has been how poorly I’ve taken all of the others.
I generally think of myself as someone who tends to roll well with changes, a result of dealings with my family where the most firm of plans could be cancelled just before on a whim.
I don’t think I realized at all how much things have changed.
Mentally, this has been one majorly rough spell.
The type of spell where there’s tears at one point that were literally because I had no idea at all where any of my screwdrivers would even be likely to be. (Still don’t actually.. lol)
Where my former stepdad doing things like throwing away our hose and a bucket from the front porch of the house, before we had everything removed from the house, feels like a total attack and a threat to safety and sanity whether or not we would actually need a hose in an apartment.
The type of spell where at one point, I sat in my truck trying to hype myself up, and the idea of dealing with even the number of greeters at church between the door and my seat had me seriously considering watching the online stream from my phone in the parking lot instead.
Where the main goal has been survival… And if the kitchen table rides around in the back of my truck for 4 days after pulling it out of storage before the initiative rises enough to be able to deal with the ordeal of moving it down the sidewalk, up the steps, and manovering it through the door… then it just does.
Things are getting better.
Which is a much needed thing.
There’s still a couple of big hurdles left to hit before "normal" is back at work, but it’s not going as bad.
While I have very mixed feelings about the school outcome, it’s at least settling down, and getting back into a routine.
This weekend, I have a toaster and can opener on hand again, a very long time it seems since I’ve last seen them, and while there are still crates and crates, things are at least reaching the point of functional.
Within two more loads from the storage shed (unexpectedly rented during the timeline failure of the first move out of necessity), everything we own should finally be back safely under the same roof.
But even as the sun rises and things brighten, I’m still just amazed at how dramatically it threw me out of whack mentally.
While I think I didn’t do bad with rolling with the punches in a practical way… Doing what needed to be done to adapt and make it work… Emotionally, every one of them landed a pretty direct blow.
Am I just getting older? Or less used to the upheaval caused by family? Or still a lot more unstable than I think following the disaster of a few years ago? Or less able to deal without the less-than-supportive "support" of yesteryears?
I don’t even know at this point.
Whatever the reason… It’s scary.