I don't even know what to call this post

I had a bit of a meltdown last night. Yeah. Not pretty.

It's late, we're in bed, and I reach for something on my nightstand and knock over the water cup. I was fine as I picked it up, but then I crawled back in bed and just started sobbing.

I think it's partly prepping for our friends to move in. It's partly the havoc of still not having a real front door, having to climb a ladder to get inside, not even having a set place to put my stupid keys, for pete's sake!

So anyway, it's like the perfect storm. So much upheval. And it's been going on for so long. I mean, I haven't had front steps for two weeks. Seriously. That may not sound like a long time, but try climbing a ladder with groceries, laundry, and anything else. Getting ready for interviews in a nice outfit only to step out the door and climb down a ladder.

So I have my meltdown and my hubby just lays there. I think he wanted to comfort me but he can't lay on that shoulder since his accident. But no words, nothing. Then I stop after about twenty minutes. Seriously. I think it's the longest meltdown I've ever had.

And he gets up. Goes downstairs. At this point, I'm thinking...he couldn't get up and walk around the bed and maybe give me a hug, but he can get up and go downstairs. Then he goes outside.

He goes outside ladies! Seriously!

We'd been out shopping for a door and window earlier in the evening and there was a funny noise coming from the wheel well, so he goes outside to check it.
After I had a meltdown.
At 11:15 at night.
Without a word of comfort or a squeeze of the hand or a hug.
Nothing.
He goes and checks on his truck!!!!

Does anyone else see why I'm freaking out here?!

So I've been thinking this morning. You know, it's mostly about our friends moving in. Yes, I've had about a month to prep. And the house will be in order in time. Maybe not the whole thing, but it'll be ready for them.

What I'm freaking out about is twofold. One, they are very neat and orderly and the guy is pretty outspoken about how he wants things. In his own home, he takes care of the kitchen because he just has to have it spic and span. That's not gonna happen in my house. I mean, it's not going to be "just so" all of the time. Two, they are very neat and orderly. So is my husband. So I feel like it's three neat, orderly people against me...housekeeping's worst nightmare. I exagerate a bit. But not much. I appreciate order. I work well when things are how they "should be," but it doesn't happen on a regular basis.

It seems like all my life, my mom has "joked" about how I'm not so neat. They called my room growing up "the swamp." It hurts. Sarcasm isn't a joke. It's not funny. Does it make me want to prove them wrong? Totally. But do I think I can? Never.

I'm also afraid this is the begining, warning signs of a depression. What do I do? I've got to get outside myself.

So what can I do, while I'm supposed to be finishing up prepping the house, to get outside myself? After I finish yelling at this fly buzzing around me, of course. Seriously. I'm totally at my whit's end.

Well, tomorrow is a delivery day for my furniture project with the church. I still need to finish up coordinating that effort. Sunday I'm on my own again coordinating the greeters for the day. We're supposed to have three leaders, but it's just me right now. So I guess I don't need to search long for things to do to get beyond my own problems.

You know, I recall talking to my counselor awhile back about how I tend to have depressions after major stressful events. I'll be fine during the event, like when we were evacuated due to threat of a flood, but afterwards I fell to pieces. I've been out of work for a little over a month now and it's both shocking and a major victory for me that I haven't gone into a depression yet. But all it took was me being locked out of my house and then responding negatively to that. It took me an hour and a half yesterday to get myself back into the house, then I decided to lick my wounds, so to speak, and treat myself to some me-time. I cruised the web, had a nice leisurely lunch, vegged out for a wee bit. Not exactly "getting outside myself" type of activities. So I guess it comes as no surprise that I had the night that I had last night.

Does it make it any easier today? Actually, it does. It shows me that it's not everything else, it's my reaction to it. I'm still in control. It can still be traced back to my choices and decisions. And it tells me I can't just blow off the house, I have to be mature about this and finish the job. Darn it. {wink}