sueeeus

crazy

He says nobody makes him more crazy than I do.  I’m just being me, and not conforming to the version of me he wants or needs me to be.  He’s out there, alone in a house, by himself, without me by his side.  He’s aching.  He’s lonely.  He can’t stand to be alone.  It makes him crazy.  It baffles him that I don’t understand how he feels (he thinks I don’t understand).  It rips his heart up to know that I’m not going crazy with loneliness and separation.  He may think that I love him less because I’m not missing him.  But I’m going crazy on my own over here.  My own version of crazy.

He has only himself to keep up with.  When his work day is done, he can rest.  I have children to care for.  Every aspect of their precious little lives is critical to me, and right now, their emotional health is even more so.  I remember being four and feeling like I was in the way.  I remember being eight and feeling like I couldn’t do anything right.  I remember, and those feelings, whether valid or not, contributed to the adult I became, and all of the emotional struggles I’ve dealt with along the way.  I find myself starved for time, racing through each day trying to scrounge up enough to give them at least a little attention, trying to lovingly direct them and instruct them when they’re bouncing off the walls and the furniture.  Literally.  They are boisterous little boys, and it’s their unbridled joy at simply being that compels them to jump on the furniture and play and have fun.  While I want them to respect property, I want to somehow teach them without squelching or scarring them.  God grant me the wisdom and patience to do this.  Truth be told, though, inside I rejoice that my boys exhibit such glee.  In my heart I say, “GO AHEAD!  Jump! Play! Laugh! Rejoice!”  (Please don’t hurt yourselves or anything, and please be respectful of others’ things, but don’t stop rejoicing, my beautiful little boys.)

loves of my life

I am exhausted.  It takes a great deal of time and energy to lovingly, patiently and kindly see to it that the teeth get brushed, the clothes get changed, the schoolwork gets done, and the bodies get clean.  Life with my kids is my priority right now.  They need me.  I need them.  I absolutely need to take this time for them and with them.  I need this for them.  I need this for me.

It doesn’t mean I love him less than I did before.  It only means that I recognize now that far too often in the past year I’ve shuffled them aside in my endeavor to be a couple, and that is something that I should never have allowed myself to do, and something that I want to ensure does not happen again.

I’m going my own kind of crazy, wondering when and  how I will ever have a little time to myself so that I can at least try to collect my thoughts and calm the storm that is raging in my head.

tunnel of lights

I’ve been coming to terms with the commute and yesterday found some moments of joy in the early morning light.  As I drove along the southbound express lanes, there was a point before daylight where the street lights aligned with the reflectors on the freeway lane dividers and the effect was as though I were driving through a tunnel of lights.  It was lovely.  Magical, even.  Amidst that moment of wondrous reflection, I noticed the city lights to my right.  Had I stayed in my former residence, I would never have had the opportunity to behold this jewel of a city in this special time before daylight arrives, and a jewel it is.  We have such a beautiful city skyline, and it sparkles in multicolored splendor.  I felt my face softening with the smile that emerged as I basked in gratitude for the privilege of beholding this beauty.  Blessings abound if we but open our eyes.

city lights

That said, leaving the house a few minutes late can double the commute time, which is nothing short of excruciating.

morning blur

Today I spent the day working in the fancy facility that happens to be much closer to my home than my normal office.  The Taj.  It’s a beautiful building with expansive windows and skylights, a skybridge to its sister tower, numerous escalators and elevators, and casual conference seating areas scattered about the atrium on all levels of the building.  I noticed a dry cleaning drop box and a DVD return box.  I was a bit perplexed until I stumbled upon the employee resources area where one can rent movies, pick up their freshly cleaned clothes, and shop for gifts and various sundries.  There is a bank branch area with a live teller.  A live teller!  Not just an ATM machine.  There is a company store, separate from the other gift shop.  There is a [commercial] coffee shop with baristas and pastries.  Baristas!  The cafeteria is enormous with several themed dining options.  It felt like I was in a city or a shopping plaza.  It was overwhelming.  Far from my comfort zone.  I walked out on the terrace and found a private bench nestled among giant planters filled with foliage where I hid had my lunch and breathed deeply the wonderful crisp November air, trying to fend off the anxiety.  My work facility is a customer facing area, so our digs aren’t too shabby.  Or so I thought, before I experienced The Taj.  They have dry cleaning and DVD rentals.  We have complimentary hand sanitizer.  I think that all those amenities are intended to sum up to the conclusion that The Taj is a great place to work.  But I don’t think it’s a great place for me.

I was considering spending one day a week at this facility, but am having second thoughts.  The facility is huge, and the building where my counterparts work is not The Taj, so maybe it will be palatable after all.  I will explore further before I decide whether I want to branch this direction or not.