A Long Break

I just spent possibly my last January break doing very little. I was mostly a consumer of online videos and blogs. I bought five books, borrowed about ten from the library and read none. I played Monopoly, Settlers of Catan and Phase Ten with my husband and other great friends multiple times a week. I cautiously drank caffeinated beverages and went walking everything I felt stressed out. I visited family and friends, cherishing moments of passionate honest conversation, children's funny remarks and babies' smiles and giggles. I did some cleaning but not enough. I worked part-time in the afternoons to help top off our income. I just spent five weeks doing very little and I survived.

Honestly, I was a bit scared I'd get sick since the two bouts of inflammatory bowel disease I've had have flared up during my school breaks. I am so grateful that my husband is willing to go for walks even when he's irritated at me and we need to talk something out. I'm grateful for family friends who have opened their doors wide open and said, "We're not inviting you again-- you should know you're always welcome." Cuddles on the couch with kids, a non-accusatory counselor who excused my video-watching as necessary escapism and time to learn how to cook tuna fish casserole, Amish Friendship bread, deviled eggs and shrimp dip have all been appreciated this month. Visits from two of our best friends who no longer live with us were highlights of the break. Reading my grandmother's marked up Bible was also a precious moment.

Indeed, I have felt a lot of anxiety this month regarding the possibility of an impending bout, watching a car hit a deer in front of me in the dark, both of our cars creaking with procrastinated needs, weekly snow storms leading to questioning the safety of going to work in opposite directions, body image questions as I try to figure out what a healthy weight and food portions are for me, the artificial stress of trying to win board games while deeply knowing that we're trying to figure out how to make it in the real world, the newlywed arguments about expectations, etc.

However, many good things have happened, see above. I'm grateful and a burden has definitely lifted having gotten through break without getting sick. My counselor expects it to take a minimum of a year to feel emotionally stable again after this last hospitalization. That means I'm halfway there. Interesting concept that it takes time to heal-- I don't think I like it because it's out of my hands...

Anyway, classes start on Tuesday. My last semester as a theological student. I love school. But I'm tired. Tired of writing papers only a professor reads, of trying to please to get an A, of the "I don't know where I'll be next year" feeling.

I'm desperately trying to quiet the voice inside of me that desires to adopt right now. I'm trying to appreciate this pre-kid stage and to figure out how the chores should be divided between us. Where are the lines between appreciated dependance and unappreciated doing too much? How can E and I keep growing as responsible adults without doing everything for each other? Where is love-- "I love you so I'll do that for you." and "I love you so I'll let you learn how to do that." Having heard stories about elderly widows and widowers who never needed to learn how to drive, how to cook, etc. and the struggle they face after the death of their loved ones, I want E and I to be capable of being independent. How can that happen when we married young and when we don't want to be independent?

I kind of want to have a vacation from vacation-- to have time to forget my questions and anxieties, to talk with E as if we were still dating and not so intwined in each other's lives, to feel carefree and giddy. I suppose the up-side at this point is that I know I'm loved, that we are committed to each other-- we're just trying to figure out what that looks like.

All of these ramblings are for my own processing, perhaps a dangerous thing on the internet but it's honest. I love and care about many people. I desire to line up my heart with my actions in order to live out my love. I need to figure out the home front first.