Sad, Lonely, and Disappointed


I started writing this late Saturday morning and finished it up that afternoon.  I thought about posting it then, but I knew I was upset and I wasn’t sure if I really should share or not.  I did email it to Michael though.  As such, he arrived home Saturday evening, upset and worried about me.  We talked a little, but mostly he stayed close, loved on me, and took care of me.  It was just what I needed. I was able to enjoy the rest of the weekend together, and I’m in a much better place now.  I think this just needed to be purged from my system.  Between writing and crying, it was pretty cleansing actually. I wasn’t sure if I was going to file this away as a post never published or not.  But, I’ve decided to share it in case it helps someone else to not feel alone with such feelings. I will say that I’m not entirely sure that’s the right decision, this was hard to write and it’s hard to share as well.  (but I figure I’ve scared most of you off between the title of the post and this lovely intro, lol)

I’ve come to discover that there’s a little part of me inside that is sad, lonely and disappointed.  It’s not something that I just realized, but it’s something that I’m realizing I need to deal with.

This part of me is why I decided to come up with a daily schedule for myself.  I was at a point where I knew I needed to do something.  I was trying to block out the world.  I didn’t really want to get out of bed in the morning.  I’d sleep in late and then lay there reading on my phone or watching television.  I’d keep myself busy during the day with various things, most of which consisted of me being on the computer.  All the while the dishes would be piling up in the kitchen, the laundry would be filling the hamper, the dust bunnies would be plotting their take over, the papers on the counter were threatening to turn into a landslide, etc.  And while I was here for my kids, I wasn’t really here for my kids, if that makes sense.  And the more I’d realize it, the more I’d want to hide from it all.  But, I knew I couldn’t go on that way.  I knew it wasn’t healthy.  I wasn't sure where to start, but I decided that maybe having a schedule to follow would help at least give some structure to my day.  If it was down on paper all I had to do was follow it, I didn’t even have to think about it, I could just do it.

Then Michael decided to oversee the schedule I’d created for myself.  He thought it was a good idea and wanted to feel more involved in what was going on at home while he was gone.  And so, every day I’d tackle my schedule, crossing things out that I’d accomplished and making little notes if I didn’t do something or did something else, etc.  Then each morning I’d email him my schedule from the day before.  It was helping actually, even though it didn’t address the underlying emotional issues.  But, it gave me some feeling of purpose each day and a small sense of accomplishment.  But this week, I haven’t even looked at my schedule, much less followed it.  That’s not to say that I haven’t done anything that’s on it.  I haven’t spent all of my time hiding from reality and living in my computer.  But, our upcoming “talk” is about my lack of follow through this week, pertaining to my schedule and also some dietary guidelines.  I can’t say that I’m looking forward to it, but I do realize that it needs to be addressed.

We moved here 10 years ago.  We moved from a big city to a small town.  We moved away from my family and near his.  I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings about it over the years.  I‘m happy to live in a house that we (and the bank) own, rather than in an apartment.  Buying a home where we lived before was a very expensive proposition.  And this is a fairly quiet, nice, safe place to raise children.  The schools could be better, but we homeschool anyway, so that’s not really an issue.  Sometimes I’ve felt a bit abandoned here though, in a small town, with not a lot to do, not a lot going on, and a husband who is gone a lot.  We have a lot of people we’re friendly with here, but it’s not like we get together with them and hang out or go do things together.  And though I generally get along with them, there’s been a lot of strife and heartache in Michael’s family this past year.  Family get-togethers have been few and far between.

Actually, we did make some really good friends here.  And then they moved.  They still live close enough that we see each other every couple of weeks or so, but it’s just not the same.  When they lived closer we got together often.  She and I would see each other at least a couple of times a week.  And then we’d usually all get together for a BBQ or something on the weekend.  We became quite close, almost like family.  I was sad when they moved.  Don’t get me wrong, I totally understand why they moved and it’s a better situation overall for their family.  But I do miss my close friend who I had grown to rely on to fill some of the loneliness I feel with my husband gone a lot.

We’d decided to sell our house and buy a new home.  The owners of the home we wanted to buy weren’t in a hurry and wanted to work with us.  We started making some small improvements to our own home before putting it on the market.  We started detaching ourselves emotionally from our home and picturing ourselves in the new house.  Last spring we decided that this was something we just weren’t going to be able to follow through with.  There were some big concerns surrounding Michael’s job and it just wasn’t the time to buy a bigger, more expensive home.  It was a hard blow to take.  I think I’m still getting over it.  Things are much the same in our house as when we stopped making changes in order to put it on the market.  There are still paint cans sitting on the top of the kitchen cabinets, there are projects left unfinished, family pictures left in boxes instead of being put back out, etc.  It’s as if I don’t really care about this house, like it doesn’t really feel like home anymore.  And that’s a problem because this is home…for me, for Michael and most importantly, for our children.  I need to be able to embrace it again because it doesn’t look like we’ll be moving anytime soon.

Finances have been challenging lately, as I know is the case for many people these days.  It’s not that we don’t have any money, but when you’ve become accustomed to a certain income level; you have expenses that are based upon that figure.  And then there are medical expenses, and those can really add up.  Last fall Michael’s income took a nose dove.  We ate up a lot of our savings to get through that time.  Things have been getting better, but we’re still recovering.  And I feel guilty.  I feel like I’m not contributing, because financially I’m not.  We’ve discussed me going back to work.  It would be a huge change for our family.  I would certainly have to commute in order to make enough money for it to be worthwhile and the kids would have to go back to public school.  I haven’t worked outside the home since my oldest was quite young, and she’s a teenager now.  As HOH, Michael has the final say and his answer is no, I’m not going back to work outside the home, we’re not putting the kids back in public school, at least not at this point.  While I understand and respect his decision and the reasons for it, I still sometimes feel like I’m a financial burden and I feel helpless to help alleviate the financial stress from our family.

I miss my husband.  It’s Saturday and he should be home, but he’s working.  He’ll be home later, but I wish he was home now.  I wish he had arrived home last night.  I wish he was home every night.  I wish he could be a bigger part of our everyday lives and that we could be a bigger part of his.  I’m very thankful to have such a wonderful, supportive, loving man who only wants to take care of his family.  But, I miss him.

I also miss my family.  My parents are coming for a visit soon; they’ll be here for a couple of weeks.  I’m looking forward to them coming, to seeing them, to spending time with them.  But, I know that the time will go by too quickly and then I won’t see them again for awhile.  And that realization has sapped some of the joy I should be feeling, the anticipation of them coming.

I’ve cried on and off the whole time I’ve been writing this.  I’ve had to stop a few times and regroup.  I feel like I have no right to be upset.  I have a loving family, great friends (many more than I have mentioned here), a husband who loves and cares about me, who works hard to provide for us, wonderful kids, a house to call a home, a nice vehicle, etc.  There are so many blessings in my life.  And even if maybe it doesn’t seem like it, I am immensely thankful.  And yet, there's that part of me inside that isn't happy.  And as much as I’ve tried to push that aside, to bury those feelings, to ignore them and get on with life, I’m afraid it’s not going to change until I deal with it.  I would guess that getting it all out is a good first step.  But, I’m not really sure where to go from here.  What’s the next step?  I don’t know.  I would think that trying to change things would be a logical next step, but what about the things that can’t be changed?  I need to figure out how to deal with those I guess.  And that’s where I find myself at a loss.  But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself.  Maybe for now it’s okay to have just gotten this out, to have admitted that it’s there.  I don’t know, but this is where I’m at right now.

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