I had an exhausting week because I couldn’t seem to get a good night’s sleep. It was all I could do to go to work and come home and do nothing else.
Without saying too much, a woman who was a former supervisor of mine 10+ years ago came into my work. She knew I was volunteering there, but she didn’t know they hired me. She’s someone I highly respect and she was genuinely happy to hear I was working.
As she was leaving she said to me, “[my name], you landed well.”
I was so moved by her comment — it meant everything to me. When we land it means we had some say in the direction and the place of our landing, unlike falling which is out of our control. She was giving me credit for getting this job, being well liked there, and doing it well.
I thanked her and have been thinking about those words for a few days. I’m willing to give myself credit for landing there. I could have given up. I could have settled for that job at the mall but I knew I couldn’t. I hate malls. I knew I needed to hold out a little longer.
My young co-workers like me for me which has nothing to do with my age — they just like me, and I them. I am fortunate, yes, but I also put myself in the position that brought me here. I’m lucky I had my parents to rely on so that I could afford to be picky.
In the days that followed I have felt depressed. There’s a lot on my mind as far as whether I can afford a home or not. Yesterday it all but killed me to rake my parent’s front lawn. Will I be able to handle my own front lawn? What will my parents do when one of them dies and the survivor cannot afford this place?
I could offer to stay here and just invest the money I have. I could even look into whether I could add an extra bathroom to this house. But do I really want to never have my own kitchen again? I feel it’s detrimental to my health to not be able to come home and cook what I want and eat what I want. And I really miss time alone, but I do fear too much time alone.
This morning I almost talked myself into not going to church. I don’t feel so well (headache) and my stomach’s been upset. But I knew I was looking for excuses and made myself go. In the middle of the sermon I was finally glad I was there.
One of the reasons I was afraid to let God into my life was that I was afraid when times got better I’d drop Him. I’ve turned my back on people throughout my life and didn’t want to do that to God. I was begging Him to ease my suffering and He helped me. He had been waiting for me since I was 13 and last went to church. Just because I’m down doesn’t mean I can walk away from Him or my church, which I also love.
I had this thought: I’m depressed because it’s a pretty natural state for me. I’ve been that way most of my life. To the outside world I hide it well, but those who are close to me can see it. The point is, while it is uncomfortable, sometimes even quite painful, it’s not going to kill me. And in the course of a day I find things that make me happy — I’m not in a funk all day long. I don’t crawl into bed. I keep moving.
So I was still quite bleh as I left church. I didn’t get in the line to shake the priest’s hands, I just walked to my car and left. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I need a winter coat, the one I have is four years old and is falling apart. But I didn’t want to go to the mall.
I drove to the charity shops and just took my time. In the end I found a few pretty cool things. It didn’t cost me much money. It kept me walking. It distracted me. And now I’ve got laundry in and tomorrow’s Monday and it’s a short week. Everything just flies by. Soon this week will be over. Thanksgiving will be over. Christmas will be days away and then it too will be over.
Do you all feel that way? That time is rushing by almost too fast?
I am thankful for God. For my parents and daughter. My co-workers and job. And for the women here who support me when I feel I often offer little in return. I hope you’re hanging in there please know I think of you and pray for you often.
Thank you, all.
p.s. I almost forgot something weird. This week I got a text message from my ex saying, “Can you believe it, I can’t find work in this town even as a car salesman. Behold the pale horse ! I was told the other day that I am over qualified. I replied don’t you see a good deal here, you’re getting me for cheap.”
I wrote back, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Can you imagine the gall? Did he think I’d puff him up like I used to? I think he really thought I’d care, and I’d console him!