July 18, 2008

Discontent

It's totally cliche. Middle aged single LDS girl bemoans her fate, questions her purpose, resents her status, becomes sullen, withdrawn, and resentful. Have I covered it all? Generally these bouts of frustration pass quickly with a good dose of realities "it could be worse" but I cannot seem to shake this one. I even resent writing about it, I don't owe any explanations of a long writing absence. I can't even really put to paper what my heart and mind think and feel so why attempt? I am really tired. Tired of smiling. Tired of pretending I haven't hurt or let down friends recently (let's not even mention the zillion unanswered emails and I cannot even tell you the last time I actually listened to voicemail). Tired of the discontent. Just tired and that isn't me.This tailspin of frustration, angst, and discontent I feel certain was brought about by the winds of change. I don't do change well. I like to be in control of everything. When things change I lose control and basically if something in my life recently could possibly change it has. Even the good changes have brought about levels of uncertainty, unexplained resentment, and anxiety. I feel like I am speaking of changes here in that annoying way that people speak of "trials" or "temptations" from the pulpit expecting the listener to decode their secret life as they talk around the facts hoping that through grapevine gossip you can figure out what their story is really about. I don't mean to do that so let me break it down.

I have loved and hated my job repeatedly over the course of the past two years. My kids I always love. The bureaucracy I always hate. My kids are leaving me to move on to another teacher prior to kindergarten. I am having great difficulty accepting this change. It's my own fault for crossing boundaries and lines of professional v/s personal that a teacher should probably never cross. But I cannot be in their lives, comfort parents as they cry over milestones that will never be reached, join in celebrations of victories over the seemingly impossible, and provide hope for the ordinary miracles of life and not cross those lines. There are teachers that can. They draw the line. They keep the distance. They are successful teachers, and I do not think I am better then they are. But I cannot do it and for that I pay the price as my heart crumbles into a million pieces when I have to let them go and learn from another. This group of kidos I have had for 3 years, two in the classroom and one year in their homes weekly. Could you ever get over losing this group?

Speaking of losing things, I lost everything I have written, saved, created, presented, photographed, downloaded, etc from the past 6 years. Yes, I fell victim to the laziness of never backing up my files and have suffered the consequences. Even with ample warning (my computer acting up for more than a month) I did not take the time to backup my data and came home to find the computer dead. Not nearly dead. Not almost dead. Not possibly able to save some elements of data dead. NOTHING DEAD. ALL IS GONE FOREVER DEAD. So while I delight in the change that has been adding Clive to my life, I curse myself for losing every professional presentation I have given over the past five years, my masters thesis, my pictures from Stumpy's wedding, the birth of Gabs, etc. If it was important for me to have electronically it's all gone now save a few photos I put onto Snapfish and the songs that blessed Itunes was willing to restore. Yeah, so lots of change there. New computer. New commitment to back things up. New. Change.

The changes keep rolling as my dear friends take jobs in other locations and move away. Maybe what I am learning here is that I have attachment issues, except for rather the typical method of manifestation in not getting attached, I find myself overly attached. It started about a year ago when my friend Gin moved away with the boys. Thankfully she moved within a few hours drive but that lack of weekly contact has been difficult and sometimes the absence of just a quick visit after work or a fun Saturday at the pool is more than I can handle. The moves continued as people around me graduated, found jobs, and moved toward greener pastures including Fran. You cannot just be the sister I have never had, let me be head over heels in love with your children, nearly die of a heart attack in front of me, let me raise your kids for a few weeks/months while you heal, and then get all better and move away. Only you can. And they did. And I am heart broken. It's been over a month and rather than being so happy for them, which I should be, I mostly just angry that their lives are going on without me. Apparently my need to be needed out weighs the rational need for other people do what is best for their lives. Therapy anyone? I cannot even put cute pictures of their families up because, as just hashed out in the paragraph before, they are all gone. Curses.Even more unsettling was my own move which I knew was coming but happened significantly faster than planned. I thought I would move this fall but circumstances opened up allowing me to move only 8 miles v/s 28 miles from work. Given the ongoing increase in gas it only made sense to make the move while opportunities were available. It probably seems insignificant to be emotional about a move that is only 20 miles from friends, but that 20 miles might as well be another state. It means leaving my ward, my Stake (read: Stake Primary!), and the ease of being moments away from sharing time with dear friends. I really love my new digs and will have to post pictures as soon as it's decorated *. However, my home in Chapel Hill had been my home for six years, the longest I have lived anywhere my entire 33 years of life. It wasn't just a matter of packing boxes, I left my home. I left the end of carefree years of college. I left the comfort of knowing the back roads, the neighbors, the feeling of home. Will I gain those same feelings for my new home? It seems possible but also like a daunting obligation that my heart is not in. Yet even with that feeling I do not have any regrets about the move and feel assured it was the right choice.So here I sit restless, resistant to the changes ahead, resentful of the changes of the past six months, and feeling a mix of turmoil and relief. I am hopeful this discontent will pass. That once again I can be the reliable happy friend. I can be the one serving others and sharing funny stories. I need to be that girl again. Maybe acknowledging these emotions out loud will start me on the path to the girl who once again is "thinking it through".*Lis, will you please come make it beautiful like your place!