Ugh

Last week started out with a trip to the Corn Hill Art Festival with my friend and neighbor, Beth. Although I have known her all her life, and she has been our neighbor for much of it (they moved in down the street with the help of my parents and other church friends when she was a baby), we had never done anything together. It was a very enjoyable afternoon and I'm sure we'll catch up again for another outing.

Wednesday was a mentally exhausting day in the baby room. Me and four Littles; my 15 month old twins, a very precocious 8 month old, and an angry screaming, lagging behind in mobility 7 month old. By the end of the day I could feel my blood pressure rising, but another issue was about to send me into a downward spiral, one I didn't see coming.

In May I asked someone to help me with my attic bedroom renovations. That came back to bite me when another individual was told I was "hanging around" with said attic renovator. We "hung out" for one day. He helped me with a job, we got subs together, and it was a pleasant day. It was a good day and a painful day, a painful reminder of why I fell in love with him and what I miss so much. It was healing because it gave me hope that I can be in his presence and not want to run away and hide, and it helped me strengthen the boundary I need to maintain even though I desperately wish it didn't need to be this way. It also made my daughter feel terribly uncomfortable and unsafe. One son told me it "wasn't the wisest choice." 

Without going into detail, I'll simply say I didn't see the controversy coming and it knocked the wind right out of me. Not only did I feel betrayed by the teller of the tale, but it affected my daughter and little grandson as well. (It never ends...) I felt defensive, guilty, and full of shame, and yet I hadn't done anything "wrong." Because this involved both work and home, I went to talk to the daycare owner at her house. Then I called out of work at 5 am Thursday after a sleepless night. I struggled through Thursday with swollen, baggy eyes, relentless tears, and a feeling of utter hopelessness and despair. In a desperate attempt to find comfort, I took a ride to the cemetery and sat by my parents' grave. I went home in a horrific rainstorm, turned on the air conditioner in my yet unfinished attic bedroom and took a nap on the cot I set up there. I went to the lake in the afternoon where the crashing waves finally settled the fight/fight response that had plagued me since Wednesday evening. At 6 o'clock I walked to the village with my daughters to watch the Firemen's Parade and found one of my little daycare friends, a three year old named Westley, who put a little bit of hope back into my breaking heart.

Thankfully, the helpless, hopeless feelings have dissipated. My heart is more settled than it was, and I'm not feeling like I want to run far, far away. I'm working on my resume and looking (again) into different employment opportunities. There are many reasons for this, one of which is the number of miles I've put on my car in the last two years. The past week's experience has simply given me another push, a push I need but really don't like.

Yesterday I took a drive to Canandaigua to visit my sister Priscilla. It was a lovely afternoon. Today we're having a birthday celebration in Hannah's honor. It's raining. I'm planning to get my feet wet!