When There Are No Words

I've been going to write a post for the better part of 2 weeks now, it was just one of those things where I didn't know what to write. I didn't know what to think or feel, I'm still not sure.

It's been a helluva year. We were looking forward to moving away from Papa and Grandpa's deaths last year. We were looking forward to starting my second year at Tech. We were looking forward to the summer, and to this week of Spring Break when we were going to take a weekend getaway.

Then everything started to go wrong. Very, very wrong.

John lost his job, we found out some disturbing information about my ex brother in law. My friend Andrea has been sick and in and out of the hospital. My husband's cousin's wife committed suicide. It's just been a cluster. Then my husband finds a job with some crazy hours. I send my sister-in-law a birthday wish and get some serious hate thrown back at me. My friend Andrea is diagnosed with liver cancer. She goes off to Houston and it's actually colon cancer that has spread to her liver and lymph nodes. She's 33. Then it's my dad, who is currently lying in a hospital bed in ICU on a ventilator. Oh and we can't forget the homework and the deadlines and tests and all that has come with going to college. The stresses with a job in an industry that has taken a major hit.

I'm worried about him, about Andrea, but at this point, I'm just numb. At some point in the last month something somewhere has short circuited and I'm just...I don't know.

I've got John's sister actually making an effort with our relationship at the same time his brother's wife is shoving me so far away. Then with everything else, it's amazing that my head is still attached to my body. It's even more amazing that I'm not locked in a padded room in a straight jacket with Prozac being shoved down my throat every few minutes.

I finally think that my husband is more worried about me than about everyone else. Probably because I'm not a cleaning fool like I usually am when life piles it on. I want to, I just don't know which problem to dwell on while I clean. And none of the current issues are ones that can be solved with a clean closet. Most of them are completely and totally out of my hands. There isn't anything I can do, other than try to keep rolling with the punches. Which is maybe the point. I have a tendency to hold on to stuff, and let it pile up until I just have a complete and total meltdown.

I wanted this week to be a vacation, one that only allowed me to work, and getting ready to spoil Andrea and her family when they got home, so that they could ease back into life instead of having it thrown at them. I wanted a breather from stress. Instead, I just had another dosage.

I wanted to ask God, now what? Obviously, I can handle more. But really?  Really. I'm almost positive that I've prayed more in the last 3 months than I have in my entire life. Maybe that's the point too. I've prayed for Andrea and her family, I've prayed for my father to get better so I can kick his butt for getting this sick in the first place, I've prayed that my husband would love his job, I've prayed to let this be enough. I've prayed for good grades and for peace so that I don't get tests and sit down and freak out and fail the stupid things. I've prayed for things to be ok and us not loose our home when John lost his job. I've prayed for more hours in the day, and for sleep when I wake up several times at night.

I've learned that you can function and live on 3.25 hours of sleep. I've also learned that at some point, I have to take care of me. Thankfully, I have a husband who is helping do that.

My point with this post. Send some prayers our way. Otherwise, my head just might explode. Or my house will be as clean as a surgical table.