I dunno. I..just…get so freakin’ tired of it all. I want to wax poetic about the amazing humid summer days that thrill me or go to band rehearsal again because I miss singing and playing so much. And I know I chose to move away from the coolest people but I had get a handle on my sanity, my disease, my life. Get to the country, live on very little, require less of me, hear less city noise…pay less rent. I just really miss getting up on stage after two hours of warm up and singing it like I feel it forgetting that there are 200 people sitting out there and it’s just me and God and my guitar right then. I just freakin’ miss it. And I can’t be on stage yet with the church that I’m at because my life is just too unpredictable and I don’t trust anyone I don’t know to watch my kids on the Wed night rehearsal night which is when my regular babysitter goes to church. And I know that people at church could be offended because of that, although they don’t seem easily offended, which is why I like this church, but my extremely vast and personal experience is that it takes 4 minutes to molest a little boy or girl and I’m not leaving my kids alone with someone who I don’t know, regardless if they go to my church or not. Because, you know, I know plenty of people who were molested by people in the church. Just sayin. And it really feels good to say that because Christians just don’t even want to know the hell I’ve seen people veryveryvery close to me go through because of perverts in the congregation. I know that I will never regret being overprotective of my Children in that area.
And not only that but, I’m just not quite well enough and I say to whoever, “I can’t commit to…” x ” because I might be sick that day.” And people pretend to look at you nice but inside they’re looking at you strangely like I’m a total faker, like she’s planning to be sick? Or that I’m begging for attention and it’s that Lyme girl talking about (rolling eyes internally) being sick again. Funny, she doesn’t look sick. And then the day I would’ve committed to but didn’t, I end up feeling great, but the day after I’m laid out on the couch. So I totally missed out on something really fun and now I’m kicking myself for not going. As if I *want* to be in this house with three kids cooped up sick. Please. But it’s like I’m a hypochondriac without the satisfaction of the drugs you get during the whole doctors visits thing.
So, it’s just getting old. And I haven’t blogged in forever because how do you blog constant negativity without people tuning you out. Like that guy on facebook that always posts statuses about his crappy life but it’s mostly self-inflicted because he’s totally immature and can’t see the world away from his hangnail neurosis. And so it’s annoying and eventually you roll your eyes and block him out because, you think, where do you *start* with this guy??
That’s how Lyme is, the annoying FB friend that won’t really get another life and get a grip. So, here I am annoyed that I still have Lyme. And that I will have Lyme for a long time and that I won’t really know when I *don’t* have Lyme because I could still have a little bit left when I feel good and then in ten years it could come back.
And then I flip to the girlie blogs about how life is sooo tough because, like, I totally, like need a pedicure, and stuff!. And I’m like, really? REALLY? Do you *even* know what suffering looks like? And then I know that’s not fair, that’s judgemental, not very Christian-like, or maybe it is Christian-like because I know a lot of judgemental Christians, but it’s not very Christ-like, how ’bout that, and so I feel like a worm even thinking such negligent thoughts. They probably know exactly what suffering looks like because they live it every day with whatever baggage they have carrying around from the argument they had with their boyfriend or the slap in the face they got from their supposed best friend from 7th grade. It’s all there, we just can’t see it. So, it’s okay, I guess.
But, ultimately, I can’t stand the thought of my kids getting Lyme by some tick that I never saw, or symptoms I never got treated, blahblahblah. I can’t stand the thought that J probably has it because I was infected while he was in my gloriously huge belly and I already have to cope with that insanity of how to treat him with something that he’s not showing symptoms of yet.
But despite all of this little pity party session, I really am learning to be satisfied with what I have and being thankful for this amazing family (I mean, hello, my husband is so freakin’ great) and this deep silence that I enjoy in the evenings when it’s dark and the kids are sleeping. No traffic, no Spanglish, no drunks on the street. And I have my own garden, and I just mulched and things look great outside and we have a riding lawnmower now and a weed eater because my dad is so awesome at fixing all things mechanical, and I got new windshield wiper blades, and my children are totally in tune with nature and not the television because we don’t have channels and they’d rather go out to the garden first thing and pick the japanese beetles off of the bean plants before anything else instead of eating a bowl of cereal to Dora. We listen to NPR in the morning and then “Stardate” before 9am and when the kids hear the intro ditty of the strings, they all yell, “Stardate!!” and then talk over it so I can’t hear a word of the newest astrologial interest. My daughter will practically bear hug a daddy-long legged as it crawls up her arm and she doesn’t shriek at all, just laughs, and I’m so proud of her for that, and my son will sit in the hollow of a bush for hours looking for moths, capturing them, holding them, talking to them, asking them how they’re doing today. It’s all I’ve ever dreamed for my children. And no we don’t have chickens yet, but we will next year and we’re lucky to have food on the table because two years ago at this time, we just flat-out didn’t. Literally.
I know Lyme sucks. I know it really hurts. But I know that I could be so much worse, because last year at this time I couldn’t walk from room to room without practically collapsing and my bones were like lead and it took me five minutes to work up the strength to pick up a glass of water to drink. I really am blessed that God has shown me how to get better because I know people with Lyme that aren’t getting better, that are getting worse and I’m not, I’m getting better, and I’m feeling better. My life is ruled by the law of averages and my average number of good days is outnumbering my average number of bad days. So that’s good.
And that’s what’s on my mind today. Thanks for listening.
From Strength To Strength 