I have my own room. I know it sounds like a common thing for most people, but this is no small feat for my present life. I have lived fairly nomadic in the past five years. Truth be told, it's not all been exciting.
I moved to the Twin Cities (aka Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota) a few years ago. My first gig was as a nanny for a lady who turned out to be a not-so-recovered recovering drug user. A new friend invited me to her home at the last second, which was an amazing gift. It did mean I had my own room, but I couldn't really decorate it "my way" and it was supposed to be temporary until I was married . . . another post for a different day, perhaps, but I stayed there for quite awhile. Then, I moved into a house that ended up being foreclosed on. Then, this Abraham Journey to Texas led me to a big house full of people who were lovely and three roommates! Eventually, I moved in with my sister, Meagan, and realized it would be lovely to have my own room again--like a grown up.
I have never slept well in new places. My very first apartment took me about 3 months before I slept in my actual bedroom. For some reason, I forgot this challenge until this week. I did well while my roomie was here, but she's back to work and not here much at night. I have come to regress heavily in any progress I was making in the issue of obtaining and maintaining a sleep cycle.
Transitions have never been my favorite. Change isn't something I have ever embraced. It all looks suspicious, so it feels bad and unsafe. I feel much more than logic would tend to bring to my mind, but I think that's the heart of anxiety--feeling more than truly thinking. I have been overwhelmed with the transition this time. My first mistake was thinking I could work full-time while also packing and moving. My second mistake was over-committing myself and making me exhausted so I became extremely ill in the matter of a few hours. Sparing you the details, it was awful. For some reason, I lack all wisdom in dealing with change and transitions, seriously.
Today I find a new reality as I become a ball of anxiety at night. I used to feel like this every single day, so I know what it feels like. I know it's based on irrationals, lies, and twists of reality. I know what it is like to fear the unrealistic as though it is a logical progression. I know what it is like to doubt the shadows and jolt at the tiniest sound. Let me tell you: It is exhausting.
I can't admit all of this and deny the triumphs that exist at the same time. There's been a few that are noteworthy to me.
First, I found a life group. The craziest struggle on this Abraham Journey thus far was a small group/life group. I took a time out at the church I was at and opened up the door to meeting other people. Then, a friend suggested I give it another try. So far so good and I feel at peace back at the church I started with. The group is made up of some older and some younger than me, which I find ideal.
Additionally, I switched clients at work. This is no easy decision, but it proved to be wise. I have a lot of unique experience working with the elderly and challenging diagnosis, so I tend to get handed the challenging clients. However, today I learned my next primary one may not be so challenging. It's nice to have a break from the intense clients. It all started by me reaching out to my boss and continually doing so as though I am just as important and just as deserving to like my job as he does. I don't think I have ever been able to express myself with any supervisor so freely, which is a huge sign of healing.
I also reached out to friends for help. When I can't do a lot of continual stair climbing without passing out, this sounds really logical. However, it is a vulnerable and scary thing to say, "I need to do something that I can't do without your help. Please help me. This is what I need: _______. Will you help me?" There was a moment when my friend Joanna came up the stairs the 100th time and I felt like kissing her feet. How do you tell people thank you enough? This is the body of Christ, yes, but everyone has to choose to be an active part of it, which is a beautiful thing when they do!
Lastly, I have been fighting this anxiety with prayer and worship. It's a new sort of weaponry and one not commonly used in my situation. However, it feels more of a spiritual battle than a physical one, especially since the anxiety is not a 24-7 struggle. I have found constant worship music to be an amazing weapon, especially "You Make Me Brave" on repeat. I reached out to a couple friends who have been there and get it--friends who know this valley and still have hope in Jesus. It is not easy to admit to someone the illogical anxieties you have while also acknowledging they are limiting your rest. When you are met with people who understand you're not wanting to hear how irrational you are, but be affirmed in the emotional struggle it is a relieving conversation to behold.
While change will probably always be hard for me, I am thankful in the midst of them I can see God at work. Any triumph we have comes from Him alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment