My dad’s mom used to say that I was as high strung as a race horse. I guess that means I stress out a lot. I don’t know.
A couple days ago, I woke up feeling more at ease and more contented and safe and loved than I’ve felt in like..forever. Like I think I would feel ALL the time if I’d only ever known peace, contentment and unconditional love my entire life. I mean, my husband and son love me unconditionally because OF COURSE they do. But before that? My life was a mess and it’s gonna mess me up for the rest of my life, at least a little. Maybe a lot. I don’t know.
I love summer because of the comfortable, less stressful, easy flow to my days. I’m not busy trying to get everything done in a single day because I just don’t HAVE to.
Yesterday, I was trying to take a nap, but I couldn’t sleep because I was freaking out about how, when we get back from vacation, I’ll only have a little over a month left before I have to go back to work. It sat..still is sitting..like a black stone in my chest, making me feel vaguely panicky and freaked out. I thought, “Wait..I’ve been off work for a month already? Where did the time go? Where did the days go?”
And I thought about what if I went back to subbing for my department, instead of being assigned to a single kitchen? Would I feel less stressed? I don’t know. I don’t know if our finances could handle it, to be honest. Sometimes I got more hours than I got for being assigned to a single kitchen. Sometimes I didn’t.
I also realized that I’m going to be 41 in September and that didn’t help things either. Because I realized that I might only have seven, maybe eight good years left. My mom’s health really started rocketing downhill shortly after I got married and she was only 48 at the time. Now, 20 years on, she’s so frail and looks like she’s nearly 90 instead of in her late 60s. And it scares the SHIT out of me that I could be like that in just a few years.
I am trying to calm down. I am trying to just breathe through it and not freak out. I want this black stone to lift out of my chest so I don’t feel so scared. Last night, when I went to bed, I prayed like a novice nun, which is something I haven’t done since I was probably 5 or so. I asked for this stone to be lifted, for this fear to just fuck right off. Because I don’t need this clouding up my thoughts to the point I’m too distracted to meditate. Because I don’t want to feel like this. It’s not fun.
I’m just not ready for summer..or rather..summer vacation..to be over quite yet. And it’s not but the rapidity of which the end is coming up is scaring the shit out of me right now.
I hate that.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should go to Hubs and tell him what’s going on in my head, because I’m sure he’ll just tell me I’m stressing over nothing, that it’ll be fine, that I just need to suck it up and get over it. Because that’s what he always says. I love the shit out of him, but he’s not always the most compassionate.
And I think, if I went back to subbing, I’d feel like an asshole for not being able to handle going to work every day when he works three jobs (new job at Ikea, which starts in July, part time bus driving during the school year and then of course, there’s his nonprofit). I’d feel like an asshole for not being able to deal with work and keeping up on all the chores, since a messy house tends to make me twitchy AF.
I don’t drink, but oh lord, sometimes I think I should start.
I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Maybe I’ll figure it out by the time I come back from vacation.