Pin It It is a truth universally acknowledged, that being-able-to-get-over-it is a virtue.
I even said it myself, here: “Whenever I think about hanging on to an old hurt, hanging on to bitterness, hanging on to anger, I think of my dad. I think of what it cost him to hold onto his anger, of what he exchanged in order to have the privilege of holding those injustices close to his heart. And I let it go. It's easy to let things go, when you really know what it costs.”
Shut up, self.
(Sometimes I read the things I wrote back before our finances collapsed and I really have to struggle with the urge not to travel back in time and slap myself silly.)
Because of course I’ve turned myself into a gigantic liar.
I’m finding it harder and harder to let things go.
The last couple of years have been full of traumas – losing a business, losing our house, losing cars, losing our financial stability, losing our neighborhood – and other more personal traumas that I can’t write about here.
I need to get over it.
I thought I WAS over some of it.
But it turns out that I’m holding on to some of it really tightly. I know this because every time something new happens, I go back to the bones of the same old disasters and gnaw on them until my teeth hurt.
Bad idea generally, because then when life has it’s inevitable ups and downs, instead of being able to view them as part of the normal flow of life - as just temporary setbacks - I view them as ONE MORE THING. One more crappy thing that happened. As though my life were a see-saw with everything bad that’s ever happened to me piled up on one side, and absolutely NOTHING piled up on the other – as though all of the good things (like my wonderful kids, the great job I have, and, oh, I don’t know, BEING ALIVE RIGHT NOW) have no weight at all.
Glass not only half-full, but leaking, chipped on the side, and coated with dishwasher residue.
I lack perspective, is what I’m saying.
Last night we were invited over for a barbecue with the family that lives next door. This family has been a God-send since we’ve moved here. They have wonderful kids the same age as Josh, Jake and Emma. The mom is smart and friendly and relaxed and MY AGE (a rarity in this neighborhood full of much older families with much older kids) and lately we’ve ended up outside talking and laughing with each other while our kids run around together.
This family has been a real bright spot for me in a sort of dark and depressing time.
Last night they told us they are putting their house up for sale and moving to California.
I think I literally made a noise like “oof”.
It felt like ONE MORE THING.
I cried driving in to work this morning. Not just because they’re leaving, but because of all of the one-more-things that are starting to feel so overwhelming.
I’m afraid that I’m losing my ability to get over things. I'm not sure how to fix that.
How do I get perspective?
(But if you tell me to start writing a gratitude journal I will punch you in the face.)
(Only because I already know I should do something like that, but the thought of actually doing it fills me with rage.)
(Probably because of THE DEVIL.)
PS: Every time someone asks us if we’re renting or planning to buy the house we’re living in, it feels like a test. If I answer that we’re renting, it feels like we’re dismissed from consideration for actual friendship. If I answer that we’re planning to buy (in the year 2020, but they don’t know that) then it feels like they immediately warm up. I cannot decide if this is my imagination or not. Anyone else experience this? I’m starting to get a complex.
PPS: In an effort to make more progress in paying off the gigantic pile of medical bills we have, I’m teaching piano two nights a week. I’m currently full on Thursdays, but I still have a few openings on Wednesdays. If you live in Bountiful and are interested in piano lessons for your kids, shoot me an email at susanmarchant at gmail dot com.