Operation Rescue Me

I blame my mom.  I inherited her weird need for my home to be free of chaos.  I’m not talking about my house being ‘clean’ necessarily or even having all the messes and effluvia of normal everyday living being picked up and put away.  I’ve become accustomed to a general state of mild messiness.  In my mind, that just proves to the world that we actually *live* in our house.  We come and go.  We eat and sleep.  We do projects and play with our pets.  We live in our home.  I’m so totally OK with that.

What I’m not OK with my home being totally discombobulated.  Piles and boxes in every room.  Things that need to be looked at and gone through and making space for things that get kept.  Getting rid of some things to make room for others.  I’ve been putting it off for months trying to pretend that if I stay busy with other things it won’t bother me so much.

When my house is womperjawed, I feel womperjawed. 

Or is it visa versa?

{Paging Dr. Freud.  Paging Dr. Freud}

I have so much shit I need to deal with.  I’ve been trying to ignore it, but it just won’t go away.  Everything I’ve tried to do to distract myself from the boxes off shit just put off the inevitable.  In typical Kelly form, I’ve kept myself very busy.  Busy doing what, I couldn’t tell you.  I’ve just been busy – my “legit” excuses for not dealing with my shit.  And what I’ve found is that when I am not honest with myself, nothing else feels authentic.  Even my blog, which I dearly love and is supposed to an honest and authentic documentation of my life, has lately just been examples of being busy, busy, busy.

Here’s the truth – I  miss my kid. I miss her sleepy face and seeing her everyday afterschool.  I miss hearing her playing piano and seeing her at the dinner table every night.  I know I’m so fortunate that she’s only a couple of hours away, but that doesn’t make the house any less quiet.  And it’s been so wonderful being able to see her on the weekends lately, but it doesn’t change the fact that when Tripp and I sit down to dinner we feel like something is missing.

And while it’s true that I miss her physical presence and the delightful person she is, what seems to be causing me the most distress is the fact that I miss the direction my daughter brought to my everyday life.  From the time I would wake up until I went to bed, my day revolved around Kelsey’s day-to-day activities.  And now without that focus, my days seem aimless and blurry.  Seems like I just walk around in circles not really doing anything productive – busywork that is just distraction from frustrating truth that gnaws away inside.

I absolutely hate feeling like this.  I am SO blessed.  I have a wonderful husband who loves me and who I love so dearly.  My daughter is happy and adjusting well to college life.  Tripp and I both have good jobs at a time when many are unemployed.  My family is healthy.  The list goes on and on.  I am blessed – I know that.  That’s why I hate being whiny and pathetic, like I’m ungrateful for my blessings.  But putting a happy face on and pretending that I don’t feel a little off isn’t honest and it’s not healthy.  And it’s doesn’t help me in my quest to get rid piles of shit stacking up all around the house.

So, what started out a way to clean out my house a little, turned out to be cathartic on a personal level.  My house feels a little more in order – both literally and figuratively.  I’m no longer keeping the door shut to the guest room or avoiding that part of the basement where I’d been keeping all the stuff.  I still have some work to do, but it feels good at least getting started and making a good dent . 

And hopefully in getting rid of a bunch of useless junk I’ve made some room for good things. 

Peace, Kelly


About Minding My Nest

wife, mom, not-so-empty nester.
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