Monday, November 2, 2015

That Hopeless Feeling and Knowing Better

I'm in that awful limbo of feeling tired and frustrated and stuck, and still knowing I should appreciate how much I have.  Nothing is terrible.  But nothing feels quite right, either.

I'm stressed about my breast issue, which never completely went away.  It's improved since July, and I'm not in pain, but after three ultrasounds, two aspirations, and a mammogram they want to do another biopsy and I just don't want to.  I get wanting to rule out cancer, but I don't think it is cancer, and I don't want to go through all that discomfort again just to be back at square one.  But it's hard to know what to do and all of it is upsetting.  I don't feel like there are people I can talk to about it without upsetting them, too.

We have been struggling with the high school application process for Aden.  In Milwaukee you apply to go anywhere, and a few schools (like the High School of the Arts) require additional hoops to jump through, and that has been stressful.  The school issues with Aden in general have been frustrating.  Only other parents going through something similar seem to understand how little control over any of that we have.  Everyone else just seems judgy, which never helps.


Quinn was sick for weeks and I couldn't sleep listening to him cough all night.  It's awful when your kid is sick and you can't really do anything.  The antibiotics and nebulizer treatments seem to have done their jobs, and I think he's over it, so that's good.  But anything to do with Quinn's breathing kind of haunts me.

Violin lessons with Mona leave us both in tears and I don't know what to do.  She's so sweet, though.  She told me recently that it wasn't my fault, and that she's really getting two lessons in one because she's learning violin and also how to be a better student.  I wish I could figure out how to do it the way she needs, but it's never right.  When I try to correct anything in her playing she hears it as her mom being disappointed in her.  The meta-messages are inescapable.  I don't know what else to do because she wants to keep playing, but she won't try another teacher.  So we keep doing our miserable little dance every week or two.

Then there are all the projects that I want to be doing, that I think about every day, and they just sort of dangle out of reach displaced by more immediate concerns.  I had a plan for finally editing my second novel this summer and getting it done.  That didn't happen.  If I could just get a week of quiet to myself to really read and think I could do it.  But no.  And the violin I'm building is so far behind the schedule I set for myself that I need to just scrap that goal and come up with a new one that doesn't make me feel like a failure.  How come the main things I want for myself are the easiest to ax when time is tight?  How does that happen, so that drafts of novels can sit for a decade and that the thing I think of as my main job gets put on hold day after day after day?

Part of the problem is that I haven't had a real break in a long time.  I had a few days off at the cottage in early July, but not really since.  In general I would like two days off in a row, because I'm at the store six days a week and then I have to use Sunday to try to catch up on things at home.  A day to clean followed by a day to maybe not clean would be good.  I don't see that happening anytime soon.

Adding insult to injury, I've had too many people lately complain to me about my store hours.  We're open 10:30 to 2, by appointment after 2, and Saturdays 10 to 5.  I can't get in earlier than 10:30 during the week because of when I swim.  (As it is I arrive at the store with my hair still wet because I pretty much come straight from the pool.)  And I need some flexibility after 2 in case Ian is out of town for Army work and I have to be responsible for the kids after school.  But most days I'm at the store for about seven hours doing repairs nonstop, so when people leave me rude messages on my machine saying, "Your hours are terrible!" or they want to know why I can't come in on a Sunday or stay late another hour or two, or come in early just for them, I want to cry.  I feel like all I do is work and it's never enough.  I know people are used to bigger establishments with more resources, but my store is pretty much me.  I'm it.  And I'm stretched pretty thin.

Ian's stressed about stuff for his work, all the birthdays and big holidays are coming up soon, and the house is a bigger mess than usual.  The yard looks bad.  We need to check the winter coats in storage soon, but that's part of needing to organize the boxes in the attic because those have gotten out of control.  Bits and pieces of our kitchen are falling apart and we're reluctant to really fix them because the whole thing should just be remodeled but there is no money for that.  The dog continues to be weird.

My weight has me depressed.  When I'm stressed all I want to do is eat, and having a ton of Halloween candy in the house this week hasn't made that easier.  I worked so hard for so long to get down to a more reasonable size, and I can't shake the additional 15 pounds I put back on during all the stress this summer.  My clothes don't fit right but I'm loathe to buy bigger sizes again.  I don't care much about the numbers (because it really does come down to the same issues, different pants), I care about what they represent.  I hate feeling like I lack discipline or control over myself and what I know is right.  The added pounds make me feel like a bad example and a lesser person for not trying harder.

And of course my dad is still dead and that hits me at odd dimes.  It doesn't really feel yet as if I won't see him again.  I know it, but part of me doesn't believe it.  I can still recall him clearly.  I can feel his hand squeeze mine, I can hear his laugh.  My dad lit up every time he saw me.  Every time.  My dad loved me, and how can that be gone?  It still feels like he could visit, that he's somewhere.  I can't quite grasp that he isn't anywhere.  That all he knew has gone away.  I can't call him.  I can't make him smile.  It's like this strange thing I know, some curious fact like a item I read somewhere, but I don't feel it.  Until I do and then I feel nothing but that loss.  It hurts, and then it goes back to being unreal, and it's confusing.  The other night after everyone went to bed I just sat downstairs and cried and cried...

But is anything really bad?  No.  We're all relatively healthy, and the few medical things we're dealing with we can seek care for, thanks to insurance through the Army.  We have a home we love.  It's not lost on me that with my weight struggles that my problem is too much access to food, which we know from volunteering at the soup kitchen is a luxurious problem to have.  I love my work, even if I could use a break from it.  (The other night I attended a memorial service for a friend's husband and was too sad to go home afterward where I knew my family wouldn't be, yet, so I went to the violin store instead.  The work is calming, and it's a place I like to be, particularly after hours when I can work without interruption.)  I'm fortunate to be creative and busy enough that my biggest problem is not having enough time to do more of the things I like to do.  Even dealing with a loss like the death of my dad highlights how lucky I am to have as many people to love in my life as I do.

I'm just feeling worn out, I think.  You can intellectually know there is a better perspective without being able to emotionally connect to it, and I'm kind of there right now.  I'm fine, but not fine.  But I'm fine.


UPDATE:  Well, the front and side yards look much better now that they've been raked, and we did tackle the boxes in the attic and checked all the winter clothes.  So that's something.  Doesn't address the larger issues, but it does feel good to have at least a couple of things get done.  Plus, you know what?  Writing it all down really helped.

19 comments:

  1. Don't downplay the grief. It often overshadows everything else, and you need to allow yourself the time and space to truly feel it.

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    1. You're probably right. It's just so... slippery. I hate feeling like I don't have control over where and when to feel sad. Easier to fuss about other things that I can schedule.

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  2. I got halfway through the post and thought to myself, "Your Dad died." That colors everything else, makes everything harder to take. Just remember that--and account for it. You're in the middle of a big grieving project.

    If we were real life geographically near friends, I would want to take you out for lunch or get your kids out of the house so you could have it to yourself in peace for a bit or give you a massage gift certificate and the time to get it. Offering these suggestions without being able to follow through feels kind of hollow, but just know that it's ok to be where you're at.

    Hang in there.

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    1. Thanks. The imaginary help is actually very nice. I appreciate your comment more than you know.

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  3. I was unprepared for how much I would miss the mere physical presence of my father when he died. We weren't even that close, emotionally, and his mind had left him at least a year before he actually passed, and yet it is still painful to know I will never sit next to him again. And the first time after the funeral that I drove the 4 hours to his house to help sort things out? It hit me on the drive that there was no one on the other end whose eyes would light up at the thought of my mere existence. I miss that.

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    1. I'm so sorry.

      I made the mistake once of driving by my grandmother's house about a year after she died and it was so painful to see it and know I would never go it in again it took my breath away for a moment. I miss her. And I miss my dad so much. We were very close. I was the only person he liked to talk to on the phone. He's supposed to still be on the other end when I call but he's not.

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  4. Dear Korinthia, I am so sorry that you are going through so manny difficult things at the moment. I hope the health issue gets resolved as soon as possible. It is tough to find the energy for yourself when you have to take care of so many other people and things as well.
    But if I may, I'd like to contribute something if it helps the lessons with Mona. I teach English and I have had so many different students who I have taught individually, some of them very sensitive. I gradually found two things that helped me a lot: first, ask questions and ask student to assess themselves. I'd say something like "Good effort. Can you make this better? How? What do you think it will work?" And I would lead them through questions and hints to correct language. It gives students more control over what they do and questions make them think of the answers. And second: I often use pronoun "we" instead of you "you". For example "Do you think we can make this better? Why don't we do it this way?" This sometimes completely changes the atmosphere.
    I actually started using questions after watching an excellent French movie "The Class" about a high school teacher. Warmly recommend it if you can get it subtitled. I am sorry for a long reply. But I do wish you all the best and for the better days to come soon.
    Tanja K

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    1. Thank you so much, Tanja.

      Good suggestions. I actually do use "we" when talking to students (including my kids), and normally I do tend to ask questions because I find students are more engaged and I can assess better what they are actually absorbing than if I just talk at them. If I ask Mona too many questions she starts to get worried and defensive.

      Mona is, and always has been, very tricky to teach. Her last violin teacher finally gave up on her, and honestly she's still feeling emotionally scarred from being dumped after so many years by someone she liked so much. She doesn't want to try another teacher because she's gun shy now. It breaks my heart because she works so hard. When the teacher let her go Mona cried for days and kept saying, "But I did my best! If my best isn't good enough what do I do?"

      Mona has always been counter-intuitive to work with on anything, because she doesn't want praise, and the more you try to comfort her if she's upset the more worked up she gets. When something matters to her she tends to panic under pressure and react in really frustrating ways. There are times I have to gotten up to leave the room so I don't lose it and make things worse by yelling, but then she told me she's scared I'm abandoning her when I do that, so now I just sit very calmly and try to just breathe until she's ready again. She wants so much to please me, and she's such a sweetie... I hate that I'm failing her in an area where I normally feel pretty competent.

      I'll put "The Class" on my list for next time I'm at the library. Maybe I can find more ideas there, too! And if you have more suggestions I am always interested.

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    2. Thank you for explaining in more detail. As I said once before, from what I read you seem to me a wonderful teacher and I am sure you are doing nothing wrong. Just wanted to clear that up. I am sorry you and Mona struggle. I have had a similar problem with a student, she is 17 now. When she was younger she would just burst into tears. The more I tried to be supportive, the sooner she cried. So I learned just to quickly move on and sooner or later she would understand the problem.
      Your daughter is different, of course. I would guess she is more sensitive and intuitive. And learning an instrument is so much more about technique and skill than learning a language, really.It can get frustrating even with the easiest of students, I'm sure.
      At the end of the day, you are not failing her at all. You are there, you teach her, you work together, it's just tough. But you are there for her.
      If I remember anything useful, I'll just post here. I wish you and Mona all the best.
      TanjaK

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    3. I really appreciate being able to discuss it with someone willing to bounce around ideas. Thank you for the reassurance. You're right, Mona is very sensitive and intuitive. Poor girl is a lot like me, which you'd think would give me better insight, but somehow just makes it harder. *sigh*

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  5. I feel like grief over your Dad would make all that seem much more stressful- but I have to tell you that I would find all that very stressful without the added grief to work through!!

    For some reason, out of all that, I'm extra annoyed at the people who are offended by your store hours. Who complains about that kind of thing?! If you're open later by appt they really have nothing to complain about, all it takes is a little planning to get seen in the window they need. People are ridiculous sometimes!
    -Lisa

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    1. Thank you!!! It drives me crazy, At least once a week someone tries to haggle with me about my hours and I just don't get it. Do people argue with Home Depot about when they open and close? I doubt it.

      Part of it is people assume (incorrectly) that we live in the apartment above the store, and they'll actually say, "Well, can't you just come downstairs for a minute on Sunday?" (Or at 9 at night, or at 7 in the morning....) I had one person years ago call me at home early on a weekend morning to say she wanted to return a cello, and she was outside my house! So I got dressed and answered the door, but good grief. It would never occur to me to do that as a customer of someone else's business.

      The funny thing is, as far as luthiers go, I am insanely accessible. Most of the other ones in town are notorious for not answering their phones, and it's typical for builders to only have open hours one day a week. But people feel entitled to having everything when they want it anymore, even if not everything can work that way.

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  6. I was going to say the same thing. Writing it down DOES help. I always seem to be able to find my way after I get it all out. But still, now that I'm feeling all your feelings with you. That's a lot of stuff all at once and would threaten to pull under someone with less mettle than you. Hugs.

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    1. Thanks, Jennie. I hesitate to publish posts that just sound like whining, but getting it out of my head always makes it seem more manageable. And the kind of support I receive on my blog is often exactly what I need--genuine, but not... confrontational? Sometimes having someone right there in real time is overwhelming when you're upset. I appreciate the thoughtful words people leave here for me to find when I'm ready.

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  7. Writing it down always helps me too. I also worry about sounding like I'm whining or too negative, but lately it seems like if I have time to write it's because I NEED to write to get something out.

    I would guess it's not any of the individual things but all at the same time. Grief is also a draining thing that even if you aren't feeling the loss in the moment, it's always there in the background. I tend to squash mine in order to be there for the kids and it comes out stronger when it does surface.

    For the people complaining about your hours...how freaking annoying. Stick to your guns. It's your life and your business and you are providing a unique service.

    Hang in there! Sending you vibes of strength and resilience.

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    1. Thank you, Peg. Some days it's just too much of everything, and other days I shoulder it better. Today is going okay. I got in a good swim, and that helps, too.

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  8. I find a walk in the woods can put much of life into greater perspective. I took Rivyn on a hike yesterday morning and the morning before and the brief time I spent in the forest made a large impact on my day, my week, my mind.

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  9. Scrap the woods. THIS is what gives me perspective:
    http://www.pleated-jeans.com/2015/04/24/man-asks-for-photoshop-internet-hilariously-responds-16-pics/

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    1. That is always good, although the guy with the sun between is fingers is up there, too.

      This cracked me up at work: http://thebloggess.com/2015/11/mortification-is-what-bring-us-all-together-cringey-tweets-part-2/

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