I think maybe the fifteenth.
I am tired. It's that time of the month for extreme tiredness to hit home and it sure has. It doesn't help that today is like the hundredth day in a row for it to be dark, cloudy and dreary with no chance of snow. It is so dark right now that Direct TV cannot pick up the satellite signal.
I feel like everything is catching up with me, all the unsettling things that happened in the last half a year. Catching up might not be the best phrase, maybe more like "hitting me broadside like a wrecking ball." Even Keith asked me yesterday if I was depressed and I didn't like to admit that I am, even though I know this is also just partly my cycle.
But it's more than that, its the time of year, the distance from family, the short, dark days, the upheaval and surprisingly, I think it is also the lack of anything to do.
I mean, I have stuff to do, but it isn't pressing. Stuff like cleaning the bathtubs. It's not work.
A few days ago I got all caught up in the idea of doing foster parenting. Like, to the point of finding all about the first step, where the information meeting is held in our county and reading all kinds of articles and stories from case workers and foster parents and children who went through the system.
I looked through the faces of all the waiting children; those children who are in the foster system but want to be adopted. Naturally, this made me cry and I immediately wanted to adopt several of them, mostly twelve year old boys whom no one else would want, because they're already too old and probably difficult.
It was all sheer insanity, of course. I can't possibly begin the process of foster parenting, one that would take four to six months, while at the same time attempting to get pregnant for the first time. It wouldn't be right for anyone and Keith was helpful in reminding me of this.
I was heart broken all the same.
Since high school, I've held a job. I've been a preschool teacher's aid, worked the double weekend shift at a rehabilitation center for physically and mentally handicapped children, taught English in South Korea and been a care taker for those with Alzheimer's. The one job I had that did not involve taking care of people in some way was when I worked with my father as a upholsterer.
Clearly, I have realized lately, I am drawn the to the human service industry. It wasn't just chance, it must be that I have a drive to invest myself in the lives of other people, especially people that I see as vulnerable.
It must be that I cannot simply and happily check out of the working world in order to become a housewife, though this has been a glittering and elusive goal of mine during the entire time I was working. Which goes to show that one should be grateful wherever one is, the grass is always going to be greener on the other side.
The other thing that I understood better from all of this was that I'm tired of being self absorbed. Self absorption is not always such a bad thing; when going through therapy it is essential and two or so years ago, it was where I needed to be.
Trauma therapy is especially difficult and even after leaving active therapy, I frequently needed to "check in" with myself and puzzle something out.
This need, however, has been steadily dwindling. I'm beginning to be less and less interested in myself. This has coupled itself with a growing awareness of how much resource I have in my life. I have a commited, wonderful husband and a solid marriage that continues to grow and challenge us both. I have a three bedroom, three bathroom house. I have a savings account, I have time on my hands, I have emotional stability and insight. I have all this stuff, and I want to invest it in something worthwhile.
Hence the headlong plunge into foster parenting and/or adoption.
So, what should I do? Should I look for a job in the human services field here? But I'm no longer able to do lifts, because of my back. I know this disqualifies me from most positions and Keith would prefer me to stay home anyway.
Should I just wait and hope for a baby to come and take up all this space and time I have right now? But who knows how long that will take?
Should I just invest myself in being the absolute perfect housewife ever? I'm thinking that's not so realistic. I mean, I am domesticated and organized, but filling the hours with miscellaneous, knit picking tasks? Not so compelling.
You know what the other thing is; the other thing is lack of control. I can't control getting pregnant, damn it. I can't make it happen and it's driving me nuts. If I could just get pregnant, suddenly longed for vision, goals and tasks appear, all of which blend perfectly with current circumstance.
I'm thinking the only real answer is the boring one of acknowledging my lack of control, investing in the present instead of constantly longing for the "perfect" future and deciding to live in the question; the question of what I should be doing until I figure it out and/or God makes it clear for me.
It might take some time and living in the question is always uncomfortable, but that's where I am so I might as well face it. That little song comes to mind, that one I used to sing at early Summer Conventions and during Sunday school:
"This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it."
So on that note, I will go joyfully take the dogs for a walk and be grateful I live in a beautiful place full of oak trees and moss, and glad that I have the leisure to do so, even if the moss is from all this stupid rain.
