Monday, June 15, 2009

Landmines

Have I started packing? No, I have not. According to the papers we've signed, we will be moving in just three short weeks but it seems surreal, it's all happening too fast--too storybook like. Nobody buys and sells like this, so fast, so smooth.

My lack of feeling like I can accept it all has made me wonder why I'm so slow to get excited. To prepare. To start to pack.

What I've discovered ain't pretty.

I'm an eternal optimist. Or maybe I should say, I used to be an eternal optimist, but what I've realized now, just now, is that I'm still optimistic about life--but with a big chip jaded into my shoulder. It bothers me that I let it happen, that I allowed life to painfully gouge it out, yet it is past tense, it has already occurred, and I don't know how I can ever repair that big hole that's been carved out of my hope.

Thinking back, I know exactly when it happened--when Joe died. Newsflash. Bad things really can and do happen to good people. His roller-coaster of being sick, then cured, then sick, then cured, then sick . . . then gone--all in quick succession--has left me with the feeling that when good things happen, I shouldn't get too excited because the yellow brick road of happiness can still have landmines.

I hate this truth that I've discovered about myself. I kick myself in the night for nightmares that make no sense and reading books like The Secret only make me feel that I will somehow be responsible for any more bad things that happen in my life. As much as I tell myself to only think good thoughts--the bad thoughts creep in. I'm not really talking about the new house here because I honestly don't think it will be a bad thing if this whole thing falls through and we stay here. I love it here. It just really bothers me that I don't get as excited as I used to. I know happiness can be fleeting. Maybe I'm just a realist now or maybe this is how it feels to lose ones' innocence.

I don't know this new me. I don't like this new me. I want the old me back so I can be free and happy and always hopeful--the eternal optimist, singing a crazy song at the top of her lungs, laughing and dancing and fearlessly skipping down that yellow brick road of happiness.

3 comments:

The Coys said...

I've been wondering the same thing - if this is why you haven't let yourself get excited about it all. But I also think you have so many others excited about the move around you that you are living through them too. Plus, you know what's really important - family, love... and that will not change - this house or new house. Loves and hugs to you - don't put so much pressure on you.

SueCQ said...

Aw, Ann . . . I wish I had more to offer, but this came to mind as I read your post:
Psalm 39:6-7 (NIV)"Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro: He bustles about, but only in vain; he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it. 'But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.'" {{HUGS}}

amber said...

Great post-- I too have wondered the same thing.

I suspect it is just part of growing up and losing our polly-anna, child-like innocence. Losing Joe definitely accelerated the loss of innocence, didn't it? But if you look at people older than you, they too usually have some chip on their shoulder. It's not a good thing, it just is.

Poo-poo on "The Secret" book. We were born and raised with as much secret as most people "learn" in a lifetime. Here's the real secret: accept the Yin and the Yang, the ebb and the flow... grasp joy when you can. Live in the NOW with WHAT IS (now I sound like a really hippy:)

(That's what makes children so amazing-- it is so much fun to view the world through their eyes!)

As far as the house goes, I don't blame you for not being excited. 1) It is just a house and you are so not materialistic.
2) Moving is so much work
3) Being excited sucks up energy and as mothers we must conserve energy:)

People often ask me if I am excited for an upcoming vacation and I usually don't even get excited until I am on the plane or even at my destination. I suspect you are just in "do-mode" as my husband calls it.

Love you tons...