Drowning Either Way

Last week was rough.  In fact, it seems as though the last two or three weeks have been getting progressively worse.  The thing that has been changing most is work, but I also think in general that I'm getting more depressed.  

Yesterday I cried.  Then I met up with my peeps at Liz's Where Ya At for frozen adult beverages in the new yard.  Today I'm better, although still not myself.  At one point yesterday afternoon, I was feeling philosophical and journaled about the two worst years I could think of - 2005 and 2020.  

The year of Big K, I moved across the country for a guy. We had long-distance dated for a year so we thought we were ready to be roommates and started talking about a wedding.  We learned very quickly that was not the case at all, but I had already given up everything to make it work. Admitting failure was really hard even though it was a very unhealthy relationship. That was March of 2005.  Katrina happened in August of 2005.  My parents and brother and aunt and uncle all helped my grandpa clean out his house that was destroyed by floodwaters near UNO.  It was heartbreaking and it was a terrible turning point for him.  The one small bright spot I remember from that year was that it sleeted on Christmas.  My brother and I were both at our parents and we went out in the yard and took a picture of it collecting in a tree.  

This year, while we're not literally drowning in floodwaters (although we may be after this week thanks to two storms in the Gulf at once - wth, Mother Nature?!), I feel like we're drowning in stuff.  Mental stuff, physical stuff, emotional stuff.  All the time we have at home and to think nowadays actually makes me sadder because there is no place to go when you need a quiet or a mental break.  Then I see all the crap everywhere that is mini-projects taunting me because I don't want to be doing chores all the time when I'm not at the office.  Before COVID times, we would go on field trips or weekend adventures to get away from our tiny, cluttered home.  That doesn't happen anymore.  

While I'm still not as depressed as I was in 2005, this year seems to be dragging on and phase two is going to be our way of life even into next year.  I hope that is not actually the case, but I also don't have much hope for an entrance into phase three without a step backward into phase two before it's all over.  That's my Debbie Downer for the day.  I'll be over here painting a sign with red glitter to bring some sparkle into my life that says, "FFS".  If you don't know what that stands for, you probably shouldn't ask because you won't like it.  It's my current attitude/mood.