“The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation.
He is my stronghold, my refuge and my savior…”
2 Samuel 22:2-3
Do you ever want to run screaming from your own life? It’s funny; I took this internship that we all agreed was perfect for me, combining my interests in biking, nonprofits, living in Seattle…the whole deal. What could be better?
Now, though, I’m at the end of my tether. Last night I broke down and just started weeping, paralyzed, with a pile of laundry in my arms. I couldn’t do anything. I just stood there and wept out of desperation and misery, my inability to handle everything that’s converging in my life overwhelming me in one fell swoop. It was terrible. Anne of Green Gables would have called it “the depths of despair”; I truly felt (and to some extent still feel; after all, nothing’s changed since last night) that I couldn’t move, couldn’t do any more. That all my reserves were gone and I couldn’t force myself to keep going any longer.
As a result, I’m having a difficult time finding much motivation to work hard or, honestly, work at all. I’d like to take a day off, but I’m behind in AmeriCorps hours. We are house- and cat-sitting through the 31st, and of course also house-hunting, and those (especially the impending terror of spending nearly all our money on one huge, permanent choice, and committing to spend a hefty portion of Ian’s monthly salary) have added to the sense of chaos as I struggle to find some solid ground in the quagmire that is my life.
I keep telling myself, “Just make it through this week,” but somehow the next week doesn’t turn out any better. I wish we had a permanent home. Or that I had something predictable in my life somewhere.