Sometimes I feel stuck. like I'm treading water. like I'm waiting for something that's coming, but I don't know what it is and I don't know how long it'll take.
For a while, it was "after I move, I'll..." Then it was after the wedding. Then it was after I found a J-O-B.
Now, I've got it all. The house, that I'll be renting for at least the next 14 months. The supportive husband. The job. The stability. I have everything I thought I was waiting for.
I don't know why I still feel so stuck. And I'm tired, all the time. There is no inspiration or motivation or anything useful. I'm not sleeping well - something I'm used to when I'm anxious about something. But where's the anxiety now? What do I have to worry about?
I've been in this house since August. And yet, it feels like I just moved in. My artwork isn't hung. My clutter isn't sorted. My spare room isn't arranged. There are still boxes. Brian's just as unhappy about his office.
We finally have enough money not to worry, and I can even afford things like buying our FICO scores and Rescue Remedy for the dog. I can make doctor and dentist appointments. I can get my shoe fixed. We can get our suits and our wool coats cleaned. I can get some of my artwork framed or re-framed. I can set aside money for the car's 100,000 mile tune-up and STILL grow savings, if only just a little bit. Soon I'll be able to open a retirement account.
The things I don't want around are slowly going out the door. Not as quickly as I'd like, but leaving nonetheless. Sometimes they even leave cash in my hand! But why am I waiting until I "finish decluttering" to make my house beautiful? Why is all my artwork stacked along one wall until I'm ready to hang it? Why have I not yet felt ready to stop treading water and start moving forward?
I know a lot of people get stuck in ruts lasting much longer than 8 or 9 months. Some people get stuck for decades. I desperately don't want that to be me.
I feel happy right now. I feel really content. Things are going so well for us right now and I'm not scared of the future anymore. I'm also not so obsessed with the past. Stuff that used to bother me a lot just doesn't seem important now; I don't get overwhelmed as easily, either.
Maybe I lived in such a "can't act now" mentality long enough to make it hard to get going again. Maybe somewhere deep down, I'm scared that things could get just as bad, or worse. Sort of like the folks living in the Great Depression. Or could it be that I'm so used to being anxoius about the future that the fear is so deeply ingrained now that I don't even recognize it anymore?
I have nothing to be afraid of. I have more stability now than I've had in a long time. I even have a bit of a goal or a game plan - the next time we move, I want to take a lot less with us. Simple, yes? But shedding pounds and boxes of 'stuff' takes time and persistence and a steady hand.
I've spent the majority of my years dealing with something my mom once called 'emotional inconsistency.' In my world, it almost always felt like I was either heading into a storm, surviving it, or recovering from it. And the times when I didn't feel like I was in survival mode, I felt the way I do now...disoriented. It's almost like I don't know what to do when I'm not plodding along. I'm good at the grin-and-bear-it routine. I'm good at forcing myself to 'keep moving.' I just don't know how to run free, or even coast.
I LOVE this quietness, the simplicity, the ease of a daily routine with no major issues hounding me. It's just a foreign environment and I don't know how to fit in. So I feel stuck.