Change Is In The Air

Change Is In The Air

It’s been another couple of months since the last time I logged in to make a post. It’s been a whirlwind in the intervening time: work, family, house fixes during the good weather…

But enough with the excuses, life is always going to demand attention, and whatever I spend my time on is what I’m prioritizing. I still want to make this one of those priorities. Writing out my thoughts and experiences has made me feel empowered, like I have a voice and a story that matters.

Last year around this time was when I started to kick this idea of my own website and brand into high gear. It was the beginning of many long term projects, including the home improvement projects necessary for us to move into the house we purchased one short year ago today. Somehow I managed to continue to prioritize writing through everything that was going on until it all started to settle down in April. Or so I thought…

The biggest excuse I have for neglecting this pastime since then is that I found out I was pregnant in April. My husband and I will happily welcome our new family member this holiday season, and I’m excited for the prospect that we will be adding that new member one year after growing the family by one puppy.

Ultrasound
Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

At the same time as the anticipation of something so wonderful, I’ve been worrying about all the change that comes with it. It feels like the expectation is for this experience to make irrevocable changes to who I am, and while I believe that every experience leads us to the people we are in the moment, I get uncomfortable with the idea that motherhood is the end-all-be-all of life altering events. I’m the same person today as I was one year ago, but I’ve grown through all the experiences I’ve had in that time. My identity isn’t tied up in other people, but in who I am in response to their impact on my life. I don’t want being a mom to be regarded as my crowning accomplishment.

I have loads of excitement about my role as a mother and getting to know and grow the new human joining my life, but at the same time, there are a lot of other plans that are also important to me and who I want to be. I still plan to go back to the job I love, writing software and learning how to improve, at the same time as getting to share what I am learning with others. I still plan to encourage young people to get interested in coding. I still plan to write.

I worry that my voice will change, my focus will change and that my unique perspective will be lost. I want to feel that I am still myself. I’m scared that this is going to change who I see myself to be, and I want to stay grounded in who I am, not who others expect me to be.

This is my life, this is my excitement. I’m as ready as I need to be, or I will be by the time it actually happens. (I hope!) I need to make as much or as little fuss about this as I feel like in the moment. Life should be lived in a balance, and I anticipate this balance will be one of the most important things I ever endeavor to learn. All I can say is I hope I am up to the task.

24 Month Marathon

This post is kind of similar to my New Year’s Eve post, in that a lot of the low points of 2016 are also covered in what made the last two years so rough. While my repetition of the subject feels a bit like complaining, sympathy is not my goal.

I don’t generally like to share how I’m feeling with people around me. If I’m upset about something, I’m more likely to be found hiding than running to someone for comfort. My emotions show on my face a lot more easily than I want them to. I’d rather stuff my feelings down until I can deal with them alone. Instead, I wind up brooding about what’s going on in my life instead of facing it and recognizing that it is OK to not be OK.

Today I am claiming my pain. I’ve survived through it all and become stronger because of it.

I don’t want to play the comparison game, my struggles are just as valid as anyone else’s, and they don’t make me any more or less important than anyone else. I just want to share all the “stuff” that got to me in the past two years. Maybe as an explanation for my behavior. Maybe as a way to put it fully behind me and move on to a place where I can actually have peace.

Two years ago, at Easter time, I lost my first grandparent. That really started me down the rough path that followed. Being very far away from my family while they were suffering was difficult, to say the least.

It wasn’t much later that my grandma moved back to be near my parents and spent the summer in and out of the hospital herself. I wasn’t the one who spent those days with her at the hospital, but being unable to even visit hurt.

Work was stressful, we had some big projects that were not staying on track and some personality clashes that added to the strain. I’m very team oriented, so having all of us on edge and sometimes at each other’s throats was unsettling. At one point I was given a lead role on a project in the absence of some of the more senior employees, but even that trust and responsibility made me more on edge.

I remember at the end of that summer I was nearing the end of my patience with everything. I escaped. I took a trip to a campground at a state park with a beach. I unplugged and had no choice but to ignore all the stuff at work clamoring for my attention. I didn’t even talk to my family. I came back with enough peace to continue on. I credit that trip with stalling my tailspin.

Stress was its toll on my whole family. My sisters had some of the worst semesters of their lives. At times I didn’t even recognize them. When I finally got the time to go see my family it was to say good-bye to my grandma. I’m glad I was able to see her, but she had changed so much in the months since Grandpa’s funeral.

While I was home my mom was in the middle of finally getting her diagnosis. Through all of this I had my husband by my side. Through a blessing in disguise, he was laid off from his job a few weeks before this perfect storm of crazy hit its craziest. That’s not to say that him being without a job was easy. In fact that heightened the panic for a while. Being downsized is never a good feeling, but it gave him the opportunity to take off as much time as needed to be with me and my family. It also meant he could be home to pick up the slack while I was reeling from Grandma’s death and Mom’s diagnosis.

Another way I ended up benefiting from the job change situation was that when he was eventually hired into the department I work in, he could be there for me at the office when I got bad news phone calls, like the one for the death of my other grandmother in the early spring.

My husband lost his first grandparent a few short months after that. I hated how I knew what the pain felt like and how I knew there was nothing I could do to make a difference. Everyone grieves in their own way, and I believe everyone should be left to do so in the way they want to. By this point almost every one of my group of college friends had had a grandparent die that year. I wasn’t always able to be there for them because of my own struggle to stay afloat in the throes of grief and fear. I was deadly afraid I would soon be attending my own mother’s funeral.

My Mom’s surgery was in the summer, and my youngest sister came today stay with me while Mom recovered. Being with both of my sisters during the most nerve-racking part of the whole treatment plan helped, but also made me feel responsible for how my emotions were reflected in my behavior. I tried to keep my crying to behind closed doors. For the more than six months leading up to the surgery I couldn’t go even a week without a good cry, but I still tried to hide it when I did.

Even after it seemed Mom was out of immediate danger I kept making trouble for myself. I managed to stress myself out at work again with coworkers who both quit and got fired, both of whom I was feeling partially responsible for. I put a lot of energy into worrying over friends’ job situations as well as my own family’s.

We bought our house while Mom was still in the hospital, and the associated responsibilities did not make the already busy summer any easier. Towards the end of crunch time on the house we weren’t getting the right amount of sleep anymore, putting in 8 hours at work then another 8 on the house before turning in for the night, and I do not do well emotionally with lack of sleep.

The middle of no sleep brought me to some difficult positions with respect to people I care deeply about. A place where I had to step back from the relationships for the sake of their maintenance. I struggled a lot with guilt over severing ties, but my own self-preservation won out. This is one of the lessons I learned in the middle of all the pain. I have to make sure I’m OK before I can worry about what my perceived attitude is doing to others around me. Otherwise I’ll be in no position to do anything for either of us.

Another camping trip to my happy place put me right again for a while. I smiled the most that I had in a year, and finally felt my jaw unlock after being clenched for over a month. I wanted to keep wandering down the beach forever, but had to return to normal life again.

The months since have been a blur, they’re filled with moving ourselves and then my mother and sister into the new house, to say nothing of the craziness the puppy brought with him. Even with Christmas and a vacation I still don’t feel like I’ve had time to breathe in a long time. I managed to say “no” to a lot this winter, but even so, I was only home maybe one night out of the week. Now that most of my extracurriculars are wrapped up for the school year, I’m trying my hardest not to get overwhelmed at all the things I’ve put off in the meantime.

I’m starting to learn that it’s OK to feel feelings and let others know about them. How else can we grow other than through vulnerability? I’ve been feeling run down, put out, and just plain upset. I don’t want to be, but that’s the truth.

It’s been a long time in coming, but I think I’m due for a break. I’m calling it now: I’m ready to stop running and I’m ready to stop hiding.

Brand New Brand

What’s in a name? Some would say a sense of identity. I’ve never been good at coming up with usernames. Most of mine were first-initial-last-name, which looks nice and professional, but still feels a little too personal for some applications. After all, I don’t need random people knowing what amounts to my full name when playing games online or posting messages in a forum. Not to mention that as a married woman I’ve changed my name to a much less unique name, making it hard to find a free username based on it more difficult. Part of changing my name has shown me that my identity really isn’t so wrapped up in my legal name as it is in who I am.

I went through a couple of phases of trying to come up with usernames for myself, using different things I like or things I do, but none of them describe immutable characteristics of me. More often they related to current obsessions, like pirates or computers. Not to say that both of those interests haven’t stuck around long enough to be a part of who I am, but neither of them are Brand Worthy. Even Various Characters, which I got quite attached to for its ability to abbreviate into VARCHAR (a SQL km keyword) isn’t really a name for a blog by one non-schizophrenic person, and makes even less sense as a username.

As it stands I plan to keep “Various Characters” around, but more as a collection of sites and coauthors that collaborate on posts, rather than my personal brand. After all, the other bloggers each have their own unique blog names, I deserve one too.

Which brings me to my name. It came as a bit of a revelation the other day when I was talking about my favorite album of all time: Celtic Armadillo. I like to call that my personal soundtrack, due to the number of times I listened to it. “Celtic Armadillo” would make a great username, but not only is it already the name of an album, I’m not Celtic. I started thinking about the armadillo part. Armadillos that I saw growing up were most often of the roadkill variety. But they’re still resilient animals inspire of their nearsightedness, two traits that I share with the creature. Armadillos are also known for their protective outer shells, which they make use of in stressful circumstances by rolling inward on themselves. Another thing I’ve been known to do in the past.

The second part of my new name was given to me over a year ago by my manager at work. One of the behaviors I’ve developed over the past three years working there is one of careful scepticism and the tenacity to pursue complete answers and understanding. It’s easy as someone as fresh out of college as I am to defer to the more senior developers. I will question decisions that I disagree with and will hold my position until I understand or make my own point to the other party. I’ve grown in confidence over the years, but I feel like I have always been a bit of a stubborn “Bulldog”. When I sink my teeth into something, I’m not likely to let it go quietly. I think that is part of what makes me fiercely loyal to my friends and family. The bulldog is a friendly animal, so long as it’s pack isn’t threatened, then it becomes fearless. I can sometimes be a bit too aggressive or overbearing for the situation, but my friends have all come to expect that of me as part of who I am.

I’m really excited about the new brand and name. I feel like it encapsulates non-transient aspects of my personality, and comes as close to my unique identity as I can think of. I can’t wait to see how this revelation impacts the continued development of my character.

Taking A Look Back [2016]

 

I am a very chronologically aware individual. I love dates, relative events, and time. As much as I can, I spend time reminiscing and remembering, because I put value in being able to recall things that are important to me. My skill in remembering things I care about often bleeds over into useless memories, or unpleasant ones I wish I could forget. When I remember that dumb thing I said last week in a meeting, or bring up an inside joke I thought of that no one else remembers, I’m reminded that this skill takes a level of control to be valuable to me.

People around me with shorter memories can get annoyed when I bring up things they no longer remember, and it makes me feel really awkward. But I remind them that if something were important to them, they would remember it. My brain just decides a lot of strange things are extremely important to remember, and I let it.

In fact, I have realized that I actually tend to cultivate it through some of my behavior.

I used to spend a lot of time in front of a calendar, my life wasn’t particularly scheduled, but I loved looking forward to big events coming up in the month and mentally count down to them. I also have some very memorable milestones in my life that help me be able to place other memories in time by whether they came before or after… [fill in the blank]. And when it comes to this time of the year, I have a tradition that I think really makes the difference: Right around midnight on New Years, I look back over the months past and think of at least one thing that happened in each month. Mentally re-running the year in review, hitting the highlights, and all the Big Things that impacted my life.

This year has been a big year. I remember shortly into the first week of January joking with a friend, “Can we return this year and get a new one?” At the end of the year I can confidently say I wouldn’t give it up even though it has been so rough.

Take a look back with me at the personal and public peaks and valleys I’ve been through in 2016:

January
  • Got to spend some quality time with my family on vacation from work. Thankful for a team at work who allowed me to relax and enjoy that time.
  • Mom started chemo and I said “good-bye” to fly back home.
February
  • My husband started working at the company I work for (on a different team, of course, still in the R&D department).
March
  • Mom’s scans revealed a need for more chemo and radiation with a tentative surgery date set for July.
April
  • Got to spend “Spring Break” commuting back and forth to work from a friend’s house while watching their (adorable) dog.
  • A mentor of mine at work left the company, after instilling in me sufficient wherewithal to handle his absence.
May
  • My grandma passed away, my third grandparent in just over 12 months, leaving just one remaining grandparent.
  • I got to go back to my parents’ house again for a stay-cation, to enjoy some quiet time between Mom’s treatment and surgery.
June
July
  • Started this blog!
  • Bought a house, somewhat unexpectedly, but conveniently.
  • My youngest sister moved in with us for the month.
  • Mom’s surgery was successful.
August
  • My parents drove up to bring my sister back. It was great to see Mom had recovered so well.
  • High stress month at work with another friend leaving the company, among other challenges.
September
October
  • Frantically finished up enough painting in the house to get flooring in.
  • Had friends over to the work-in-progress house to hang out close to twice a week. Felt like a real hostess.
November
  • Officially moved everything in! (Without necessarily organizing any of it…)
  • Booked an honest to goodness vacation for just me and Josh. Inspired by a friend’s post: For the Sake of Your Marriage, Take a Vacation (and the length of time it has been since we look a trip that didn’t include friends or family).
December
  • Got a puppy!
  • My family moved up to live with us during the winter, especially for the Holidays.
  • Hosted (what I hope is the first of many) board game parties for friends and family.
  • Made it through umpteen Christmas parties with a plethora of relatives.

On top of all the personal things that have made this year a rough one for me, the world in general has had a tumultuous time of it. between political issues, humanitarian crises, attacks and deaths. It’s easy to look back at a year like this one and only see negatives, hard times, reasons to complain. By reminding myself of what happened in each given month, I can reach for the positive, and realize that even in those darker months, there is hope, peace, and joy shining through.

The Contrast In Waiting

One year ago, last December, I had two of the worst days my family has experienced. December 3rd was when we started to finally get answers for my mom’s increasing pain and December 10th she got the official diagnosis/prognosis. Those days were hard. I felt so much panic and so little hope. It was hard to imagine any future.

This year, December 3rd and December 10th will be marked by some wonderful things. Number One being that Mom is fine. Number The-Second-One being that I have acquired a puppy. I spent all day last week out on the far side of the state where I had traveled with the express purpose of meeting a puppy that I had already adopted into my heart. As it is part of a rescue program that carefully vets its prospective owners to ensure the dogs’ best interests are kept first and foremost, we could not adopt my new baby that day. We left, after an hour plus of cuddling and falling deeper in love, without even knowing whether we’d get to see the dear thing again.

Having to wait to hear back about the fate of my future furry friend was held in parallel to the waiting game we played a year ago, but was thankfully a much more positive thing to wait for, as well as a much shorter length of time. The rescue chose our family out of the 75 applicants for the litter of 4 puppies, and (mercifully) called early on Monday afternoon. I’m sitting here in peace and joy, cuddling a bundle of cute fuzzy energy, thankful that I am able to see the difference that a year brings. The future that I couldn’t see came, and even though it came with a lot of rough stuff, I got through it. Out on the other side, it’s easier to say that next time I might see the promise of a path through more easily. I pray that this experience means that even if I do go through worse valleys in the future, I will be able to have hope more readily.

I don’t take for granted the fact that this contrast is so stark, between a year ago and today. This is the future that I was too afraid to hope for, one where everyone is OK and things are actually going well! I feel like I’ve made it out from around a bend in the road and suddenly the landscape opened up with possibility again.

This year on December 12th, instead of answering the phone to hear of my grandma’s passing, I’ll be answering the door to hear of my family’s arrival for the holidays. Anticipating something pleasant makes it so much easier to be joyful. I don’t think that it’s just because of the change in my circumstances that I’m able to feel peace and hope. I don’t want to go through a year like 2016 again, but I have learned so many valuable things and grown so much that without this year I would be missing part of my identity.

As I look forward to an exciting season of happiness, the feeling is tinged with emotions from the past year. We have a lot to celebrate this year, but we had a lot to celebrate last year too. There is a lot to look forward to this year, but there was a lot this past year to look forward to as well. I’ve learned to live in anticipation, and how no matter what I plan in my head, the expectation never matches reality. I’ve decided that’s a good thing.

A Taste For Good Food

I remember nearly two decades ago, deciding that I was grown up and needed to behave like what I believe to be “more adult”. I asked for clothes for presents and chose a carrot cake with a skimpy amount of frosting spelling out “Happy 6th Birthday”. At that age I think I was realizing what it meant to be a “grown-up” but miss-attributing the symptoms of adulthood (making frugal and health conscious choices) with a way to achieve maturity.

It’s possible that my family’s recent experience of going fat-free or very low-fat over the course of the year leading up to that birthday contributed to my infantile sense to have almost no frosting and make my cake “healthy”, even if I didn’t really think it tasted that good. (I added frosting to each slice as I ate it, but failed to recognize the irony in my doing so.)

Nowadays, I still end up asking for clothes (adults are so hard to shop for!) and I’ve embarked on yet another attempt to pay attention to what balance of nutrition is going into my body. I have plenty of reasons to want to eat healthy, including a lot of family history risk that can be lowered by diet and exercise. But even with that incentive to practice healthy habits, I rarely remember to.

I’ve noticed that I am rarely motivated without a goal and a deadline. (Did someone say “procrastination“?) Eating healthy just to eat healthy isn’t enough to motivate me to do it, and neither is exercising enough itself to make me want to do it. Instead I have challenged myself to try to consistently meet step goals and make meal plans in order to “train” myself for a vacation.

I plan on needing to walk a lot on vacation, and I intend to watch what I’m eating as both a way to stay on budget and to fuel the adventure. At least with the reward of an exciting trip in the future I have a time limit to give myself some urgency. Then I won’t spend a-whole-nother year telling myself I’ll kick it into gear “next week” or “tomorrow”.

So far I’m enjoying the experiment in better food because it has gotten me out of my rut eating the same old food over and over. I’ve tried some flavors that I wouldn’t have expected to like, and I’ve found some unique ingredients that I’m surprisingly fond of. Right now my favorite is banana milk, or banana anything really. Yogurt, flour, bread, I’ve had them all in the past week. My next food related challenge is to balance my ambition with reality so I don’t end up making too many dishes to finish before the leftovers are beyond saving. Thankfully I should have plenty of mouths to feed my experiments to over the holiday season.

It’s hard to say that I expect anything more out of myself than the umpteen times I’ve tried this type of thing before. But this time at least the motivation isn’t just to feel grown up, it’s to actually act responsible for my body. Hopefully I’ll come back with more progress than topping off my healthy lifestyle with more “frosting”. In the meantime, I’ve got some incentive to practice!

Everybody’s Little Sister

Some days in life I like the feeling of being coddled like a younger sibling. As an eldest, any opportunity for this comes from someone outside of my family. Usually it comes from my friends. Almost all of my friends are older than me, by various degrees. I’ve got a group of people from college, people from church, and people from work, all of which are able to provide me their unique perspective on the world.

When I first arrived at college, I went from being the oldest in the group of people I spent time with, to being the youngest. From being a high school senior among a few dozen home schooled kids, some even a decade younger, to being a young freshman in an unfamiliar environment. I suddenly made a lot of friends, where I was used to having a small set of people I would interact with, who I had known for years. My bubble got a lot bigger and filled with people whose advice was valuable. Even though there were annoyances in my dorm experience, I truly felt adopted by many of the people I met in my first weeks of school.

While a lot of those friendships were formed by convenience, or forced community, I treasured the experience of being mentored and listened to by people who could have just as easily chosen to ignore me. I garnered a whole host of big brothers and sisters, whose life experiences I could use to gain some perspective outside of the insulated world I grew up in.

I loved that feeling. The sense of value from people’s willingness to give me their time and attention. I don’t presume that they all perceived me as their little sister, but in a lot of ways I felt treated that way: treasured and nurtured. It didn’t matter if I felt clueless or confused when there were so many people around to help me grow.

Many of the people who filled that role for me when I first reached college have passed out of my life. While a few of them disappeared from my life gradually, as I spent more time with certain friends, others grew distant themselves, or left the college altogether. I am glad to have met them, and experienced their comradery and kinship.

I still run into this feeling with most of the people I spend time with. I’m a very team oriented person. Always saw my own sisters as equals, and family unity is important to me. I care about the people around me in the same way. I value my team mates and friends as members of an extended family, uncles, aunts, cousins, siblings.

I’ve mentally adopted all these relations as part of my emotional investment in their lives, as part of the exchange where they have invested in me. I want to value the incredible people around me, and spend as much of my attention learning from them while they are a part of my life. I want to learn skills from them to be a good listener and mentor myself.

Photo by delfi de la Rua on Unsplash

There are still so many people around me who I can spend time listening to and investing in, more of my own “little sisters”. Although my own sisters, who are my first and very dearest friends, can never be replaced. I like to think of it like my sister-in-laws do, they have adopted me as just another member of the family.

I love being everybody’s sister, it gives me a good perspective on how to interact with others, valuing them and treating them with respect.

Preparing To Move

Change is hard. Some people like change, some are even addicted to change, but for me it’s hard.

I tend to avoid change for that reason, along with my inherent laziness and procrastination. Small changes aren’t immune to my avoidance either. I would rather spend an extra five minutes every morning instead of going to get my hair cut, because the change isn’t worth the effort. These types of mental compromises happen more subconsciously than intentionally. I’m really not against change, but something about the unknown factor freaks me out on a primal level.

My discomfort, however, is nothing compared to my husband’s. We’ve recently purchased a house and have been getting it ready to move in while we finish out our lease at our apartment and his nerves are getting the best of him, even though we know what we’re getting into.

Thankfully, the way moving has worked out for us so far has been for us to work on fixing up the house for a few months, instead of paying to break our lease and rush out of the apartment. There have been plenty of projects to keep us busy and delay the date of actually changing residences. My list of things to procrastinate on do is ten pages long, but I continue to be surprised by just how much we can accomplish when we prioritize and motivate.

I feel like this time of transition and adjustment being so long is both helpful and a little bit more stressful, just because of the anticipation. The best approach I have found so far, in the middle of change, has been to hold onto things that are constant. I’ve noticed how much time I have spent with my friends, even while my life feels consumed with packing and planning for the move.

A lot of my friends are also in the midst of periods of intense change and we have been drawing together and finding stability and consistency in each other’s company. I love that I can count on our bi-weekly breakfasts and bonfires. Routine is so important during change. It gives back a measure of control in situations where there is so little we can predict.

As I approach the final stages of a big life change, I can’t say that I’m going to be ready for it. I just know that whatever happens, life will not be the same again, and that’s OK.

Returning To The Outside World

Over the course of the past 12 months, I’ve felt very insular. I’ve been sequestered in my apartment and made a plethora of excuses to avoid going out. Some valid, some just excuses. It’s been a long year, and as a person who thrives on time to think, I’ve spent a lot of that time in introspection.

I’m starting to learn though, that I still need people. I need community. I need to be surrounded sometimes, by others who can carry me up and out of a funk. As much as I claim to be an introvert, being buoyed by people around me is what is starting to bring me back to a healthy mental state.

I don’t say this lightly, and I don’t think I’m mentally ill, but I know I’ve had a lot of things going on this year that have made it harder to feel happy. I haven’t been depressed, I do not suffer from anxiety, but I’ve been deeply upset and concerned and those feelings have lasted longer than I’ve wanted them to.

People I care a lot about have suffered in the past, and especially this year, with feelings of anxiety and depression that amount too much more than my limited experience can understand. They have needed the help of trained professionals to make adjustments in their lives to help them feel “right” again. Some of them haven’t gotten that help, even when they asked for it. I don’t want to diminish their experiences, but I want to share mine. Because I’m tired of hiding in a corner.

One of my default behaviors when I’m upset about anything is to try to get away from other people. Most often I’d rather deal with my feelings alone than in front of strangers or friends. This means I internalize a lot of my feelings until they come spilling over after a point. I only had a few days in the past year where I literally curled up in a ball and hid under a blanket to try to escape. Most days aren’t like that. I’ve had days I didn’t want to get out of bed and go to work either, but I’ve also used work as a distraction and a way to cope with my feelings through sheer avoidance.

I had a turning point. I had high hopes that it would be sudden, a specific experience I could point to and say, “look, I’m better because of this.” Instead, its been a gradual crawl back to the new normal. I had a good day of escape, far away from reminders of my troubles, surrounded by people who care about me. A sort of retreat, but a retreat that let me advance past the state of mind I had been stuck in. I’ve made more progress in the past few weeks than I feel I have all year.

It feels like it’s been long enough for me to process all the things on my plate, I should be caught up by now. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it’s needed to make any kind of change.

The frozen feeling is finally thawing and it feels safe to make plans again, to look forward to things. A lot of those plans involve making sure I continue to spend time with my friends. As much as wanting to spend time with people is an indication of my improved state of mind, I also credit it as part of the cause for that change.

People are important, being around people is important. Trying to solve everything alone is not a sustainable approach. I’m learning it’s OK to rely on others and not expect myself to be OK all the time in “public”. So from now on I won’t be as reluctant to engage with the people around me even when I don’t really feel like it. I hope doing so will continue to surprise me in the way it improves my attitude.

Helpless Worry As A Control Freak

Along with my strong desire to fix other’s problems, comes my empathetic worry for their situations. There are some problems I know I just can’t fix, some nobody can fix. In those situations my helplessness takes over my attention and all I can think of is how I want things to be different, but there’s nothing I can do to change them.

As I sit here, a thousand miles away, there is a hurricane barreling down on my old hometown, the likes of which have not hit the area in over a decade. I remember the damage a decade ago, and how much potential there is for danger and destruction in a storm of this magnitude. I’m helpless to protect my family, and its much too late to make it down there before the storm hits. Instead, I am worrying about something I can’t control, and anticipating outcomes I can’t predict.

I’ve run into a lot of this type of worry lately. It’s especially common because I’m so far away, but also because a lot of things like health and well-being of others are never in my control. It can get overwhelming when the things we care so much about are things we can do nothing about.

Hurricane
Photo by NASA on Unsplash

I haven’t been able to talk myself down from the panic I’ve been feeling all day about the storm, but I’ve noticed an interesting trait: sometimes talking to other people about the situation can help me to feel more confident that it will turn out OK. Maybe its a measure of bravado, where I feel like I need to both diminish the danger so I sound cavalier, and still impress my audience with the gravity of the situation. It isn’t a great coping mechanism, but right now I’ll take what I can get.

Another way I can try to calm myself is by comparing one situation that I’m currently in to another that has come out alright. When I’m worried about someone’s health, I can remind myself of how many times I have already seen them come out of similar circumstances. I claim these events as evidence of God’s faithfulness, in hopes that it will carry me through again. Sometimes that is enough to help. Sometimes it isn’t.

I am full of worry. As much as I would like to say I take these verses to heart and “do not worry about tomorrow,” it is always a struggle. I like to be in control, and when I can’t feel control over my circumstances, it’s easier to lose control over my attitude.

There is a lot of growth left here still. Just like with my jealousy, I hope that by recognizing it, and talking about it openly, I can hold myself accountable to change my perspective. I don’t want to worry, and that’s what worries me the most.