Here is the truth, as well as I can say it today: I am drowning.
Let me hide under the covers, pull my shell over my head and not have to deal with all that is coming at me. I (essentially) have ten days to get everything done – to sort, purge, maintain, survive. To see people, do things, enjoy this state, keep my sanity. And today it feels like a losing battle.
Today I want to cancel my plans and hide away. I want to watch Fixer Upper, eat pie and ice cream, and just pretend the avalanche is not coming. I am on fumes. What was supposed to be a chill time with family ended up being anything but (and no one is to blame for it). I feel pulled in a dozen directions, trying to stay present in today. It’s hard not to feel scattered when you consider our to do list:
- Schedule movers
- Get your car shipped
- Sell a car
- Vet appointment for your dog
- Health certificate for your dog
- Flights for you
- Flights for your dog
- Rental Cars in three cities
- Pet friendly hotel in three cities
- Purge and organize your house
- Get ready for movers
- Pull out what you want to take with you on the plane
- Clean your house
- Arrange a start date with the new job
- Line up houses to look at in DC
- Plan four trips in four weeks
- Find dog sitters for said trips
- Get dog used to a kennel (he ate up his last one)
- Organize Thanksgiving on the road
- Grocery shop
- Work Out
- Eat (cook, prep food)
- Be a sane, kind, functioning human
- Small group
- Engage with friends you will never see again but who matter deeply
- Do everything you have not done here but want to
The mental drain is real and yet unnoticed because it’s not tangible. I cannot see the energy I am giving out pondering dozens of things and yet it is happening. Every thought is currency and there is only so much in the mental bank.
I have cried more than once recently. I sat at stoplights and sobbed. I stare out the window, desperate for a bit of resolve to stand and do anything. Nights finds us on the couch, SVP on the TV, not really hearing what is happening.
The margin is thin and yet must be cultivated. I am trying to put down the phone and pick up a book. Write one page a day. Drink water – not drink alcohol. Get into the sun. Move. Pray. Take deep breaths. Small things to refill the battery just a little. It is in the small things I will recharge or burn out.
Depression robs the best of you. Depression simply hurts. Depression and anxiety site like angels on my shoulders taking swipes at me and making me doubt everything, mostly myself. Anxiety leaves me paralyzed. I grasp for control which only leads me more undone.
Today I am drowning, I am at my capacity. But I choose to keep my appointments, to not cancel and hide away. I choose to do what I can – not perfect but present none the less.
Today I am drowning but I am not done, and that for me is a victory.
Amanda Lunday 