I’ve come here to post probably five different times inthe last week only to discover words are pretty useless. But tonight, as I was falling asleep, I had this massive anxiety attack while thinking about the concert I’m going to in AUGUST, and I realized maybe words are the solution.
I’m not anxious about the concert, really. Unless you count the mostly irrational fear of being surrounded by people. No, that’s not the problem.
The problem is, stuff keeps changing. I lost my grandpa and a chicken in the same week, and while those losses are on opposite ends of the spectrum, neither were exactly happy events. Last week, I had my cat put to sleep. I spent 14 years hating that cat, and then I spent an entire morning crying that she was gone.
The problem is, walking pneumonia. My whole family has it. We’re finally getting better, and I’m praying this is the last of the sickness in our house for a long time, because this winter has been exhausting.
The problem is, there’s a very real chance that we may be moving across the country before fall. But first we get to play the waiting game to find out for sure. Makes it hard to go about life like normal when I don’t want to start anything I’ll just have to leave behind.
The problem is, my son has made friends with the only three kids in his school who come from...rough...families. I don’t mind that part- these kids are great. It’s more that they are clearly not being taken care of properly that’s bothering me. They come to our house to play, and they’re polite and well behaved but some of the comments they make break my heart. Things like they wish they lived here, or there’s no point going home because their mom wouldn’t be there anyway. So somehow, in just the last month, I gained three extra kids to worry about. I treat them the same as my own kids and have them help me with yard work and talk about their day.
I feel...off kilter. Like all these things and more are going on and I don’t know which one to focus on and even if I did...when? And what do I do about it? I feel as incapable of dealing with everything as I did about catching all eight of my chickens the day they got out and terrorized the neighborhood like a bunch of feathered, egg-laying thugs. All I could do was wait for them to come home in the evening.
Maybe this is all like that- maybe I just have to wait for it all to start sorting itself out like my gang of chickens did.