I know yesterday I began with a list of things to be thankful about, but today, in the spirit of facing the firing squad, I will list the things which are driving me crazy. I will do this because it is becoming clearer that I will be facing those things for the full 45 days and so might as well not hope for better, but square my shoulders for the heavy load.
As it is highly unlikely that we will have our house any sooner than December 31st, we are beginning to look more closely at living options for that month. Here they are:
Live in the on post hotel at thirty dollars a day for a total of nine hundred dollars lost.
Live with friends in their rental house, the size of which we do not know, the wife being a person whom Keith and I try to see as little as possible of under normal circumstances and whose hygiene habits are, for lack of a better word, off putting.
Live in an empty rental house at a cut rate with nothing but what we have with us now.
Commute several hours from Indiana while continuing to play relative roulette.
The latter will not happen, though it has been tossed around a little. I really have no idea right now what will happen. But speaking of the latter, let's look at that a little more closely, shall we?
Right now, I have laundry in process at two different houses. My PJs are at one, my shampoo at another. Between each is a forty minute drive which is agonizing on my back. I live on a constant diet of Ibuprofen. At only one house do we have an actual room to sleep in and boy am I grateful for it.
At the other house, we sleep in the living room and the last time we did, complete strangers came in at six o'clock in the morning. There is nothing like waking from sleep on a strange couch in one's PJ's by strange people coming in the front door and flicking on the lights.
At that house there is no Internet or books. I cannot go to the library, as I do not have an address. I cannot cook, as I do not have a kitchen. I cannot rest, as I do not have a room.
Right now we are closing up shop at this house, the most comfortable by far, to spend another few days at the one I just described. After those few days, we will go to a friend's house and spent the weekend there. Sheer agony, as I have only just met the wife for a few moments a few days ago.
Now we will be jettisoned into the suprising intimacy of bathrobe and toothbrushes on display. No doubt we will sleep in the living room and be under the curious scrutiny of their six year old.
Do I whine too much? Perhaps, but that is the point, at the moment.
After that weekend of delights and constant socializing with strangers and showering in their bathrooms and tip toeing around their kitchens, we will spend the week up to Thanksgiving with Keith's father.
This I'm looking forward to in the way a desert traveler longs for the oasis shimmering in the vast and desolate distance. Mostly because only his father and his wife live there and we will not be expected to socialize, I don't believe. Also, there will be a bedroom and bathroom of our own, as the house is large. Most of all though, because it will be quiet.
After the quietness comes Thanksgiving day and then....who knows. I literally do not know where I will be living.
I should embrace the chaos like a cliff diver, I should rejoice in the wind whistling past my ears as I free fall into complete discomfort. Already I am far more laid back than I ever was before. I don't think I'm all the way there yet. I might be, by the time this is over.
As I think about it, the biggest problem for me is the lack of control. In my own house, I negotiate who comes in, for how long and under what terms. If I do not feel like socializing, I retreat to the bedroom or computer room, leaving my husband and his buddies to do their guy thing. I come out to feed them, something I don't mind doing.
I have complete lack of control now. People come go within my space all the time; I have no boundaries. It feels rude to retreat in someone else's house and often there is simply no where to retreat to. Being under these circumstances for just a few days can be trying and the return to one's own home a blessful moment of relief.
I have been under these circumstances for a prolonged period of time and have two weeks yet to endure it. I have no home to return to, with it's clean, cool sheets and deeply familiar bed, the comfort of one's own bathroom and kitchen and routine.
Ok, enough focusing on the intense discomfort of my situation. I have developed some interesting survival strategies and these are them:
I relish, even with the physical pain, the time alone in the truck. Also, I relish any moment when Keith and I are stress free and able to cuddle up together, not always possible between my back pain and the circumstances of our living arrangements at the time.
I have books now and as long as I can hold the book up to my face, I am free and in my own space. The same thing happens when I put my ear plugs in and close my eyes; even if I'm out in the open, I have created my own private space.
I manage always to have coffee, even if we must drive someplace to have it and the time I am drinking it is often the best point of that entire day.
When at this house, we have a room and the Internet and I am free to spend hours in here, so long as I come out from time to time and check in on the group and/or my husband.
My own awkwardness around strangers is not abating, I'm simply not caring very much about it anymore. Not making conversation? Hardly making eye contact? I appear to be miles away in my own thoughts during dinner out at the pizza place? I don't care anymore. This is rude, I know. But that's the way it is; I no longer have the energy to mask it.
I have an increased appreciation for Keith's family, all of whom are very nice people and I have begun to get very comfortable around all of them. I'm beginning to understand the dynamics of the family and how to navigate each one on my own terms, which is a triumph. I feel like I am a genuine part of the family now.
This whole experience has put incredible strain on my marriage. When things come up, as they will do, we have little privacy in which to resolve them. The circumstances cause more things to come up than usual and for them to be more intense than otherwise. We are often tired or stressed and so dealing with the increased intensity and bombardment of the issues within the limited opportunities presented by the moment is excruciating and I do not use the word lightly.
Interesting things have come to light because of this, however. I spent much of the last decade of my life learning how to fight for myself. In doing so, I regained incredible amounts of grit, courage and integrity that had been lost or smothered by the early and continued sexual abuse that I suffered as a child.
Consequently, I am now, despite my weaknesses, an incredibly strong woman. I have an very clear perception of myself, I often know exactly why I am doing something and what it will cause. Not always, that would be inhuman.
Just in the last week or so, I'm beginning to realize that I'm strong enough to begin to learn another lesson; humility. I know, it's just not as sexy as self integrity and survival skills. But if I choose not to learn it, I won't be able to enjoy the richness and intimacy and trust that it will engender within my marriage.
In practical terms, this means learning to reframe the issues. For example, if Keith chooses to go somewhere I'm uncomfortable with, and does so because his family wishes to go there, I do not have to frame that interaction as a power struggle between family and me. And I certainly do not need to feel as if my survival or personal integrity are on the line.
I tend to go there; its a carry over from the past. But using my husband in an imagined power struggle between his family and me as though he were the rope in a game of tug of war is not very constructive, to say the least.
And it's unnecessary. It doesn't have to be about survival or importance. I can reframe it to: yes, I don't want to go there and wouldn't choose to do so, but I'm more than strong enough to go along and remain myself. And who knows? Maybe enjoy some parts and just ignore others.
Thinking about it in those terms takes all the intensity out of the argument and frees Keith up to do what he needs to do. I accept a kind of humility, not a meek and powerless one, a milk sop sort, but instead, showcase a kind of strength that requires self discipline and self knowledge; that of being able to put oneself aside for another.
I guess in some ways I should be flattered that God even thinks I'm ready for it.
