austin-versary

This will not be one of my happier writings. I feel like I'm in jail. Waiting for this awful process to complete itself and allow the actual healing to begin, waiting for my mind and body to start working in ways that allow me to...oh, run the vacuum or drive to the store. I'm on Day 7 of life in my bed. Where I feel safe, where I feel comfortable, where the physical pain can sometimes be managed by a heating pad or a pill. Problem is, that's getting old. My books are old, my magazines are old, and being the weekend, my TV schedule is unjustly interrupted (no noon OC drama, no 3:00 Dr. Phil, no 4:00 Oprah). I'm tired (but not sleepy), I'm sick of this, I'm hurting, and I want it over with. I. Want. My. Life. Back.

Megan left this morning. I wanted so badly to cancel her ticket or refuse her a ride to the airport, keep her as a hostage to entertain and distract me. She's one of those people in my life who sees through the outer BS and into who I am and why I feel the way I feel. And even cooler- doesn't judge what she sees there. Just sat here with me, in my bed, united in our sweats and unwashed hair watching YouTube clips of people singing about their cat. Thanks, kiddo. Now that her visit is over, what do I do? I would sure appreciate it if for once my body would cooperate and fix this mess, which would allow me to function like a human and not like a broken down mess.

Our 1 year anniversary as Austinites is today. I think of the oblivious nearly-newlyweds that rolled into town 365 days ago, boat and UHaul and high hopes in tow. The first 6 months here were so very great. Oh sure, we had ups and downs. I missed my family and friends back in the northern plains. I didn't get that job I wanted. I tried another and it was a bad fit. But overall, no complaints, life was good. J fit right in at the dealership. We enjoyed our time as SoCo-ers, walking up to Home Slice or over to Doc's whenever the mood hit. Our little apartment in the middle of everything Austin saw fun times and late nights and celebrity sightings. New friends, new experiences, and a general feeling of satisfaction that we followed a dream and accomplished it. 6 months in, we bought this house, this perfect place for us, near everything we needed, excited to make it our own.....and that's precisely when the craziness broke loose. Sitting here today, looking at the builder beige walls (lots of time to stare at walls when leaving one's bed is a challenge) I started feeling sorry for this poor House. We came in so excited and full of ideas and young and vibrant. If House had feelings, surely he was ecstatic about these young, eager, imaginative new people. But by day 2, with the appearance of that second pink line, we'd done an about face. The focus was off of the House. It shifted (irreversably? I'm hoping not) to pee sticks and baby books and health food and baby talk and baby nerves and long days of nauseau on the couch. Then to sadness and desperation and lots of mopiness on my part. Then the cycle repeated itself. And in the midst, House has been thrown to the wayside, a toy whose child found something better to do. No walls are painted, no serious or thoughtful decorating done, no indications that the people living here have much taste or personality. There are framed photos and decor stacked against walls, a garage full of boxes and entertaining ware gone ignored, and just a whole lot of potential to be a better place and a happier place too. I'm determined now, (thanks again here to my sister) once my health is restored, to focus on the House. Get this place looking like the Rhinelander house did- warm, inviting, "Mandie-and-Jonathan-ish". I miss that house sometimes, jailbird neighbor and 6 month snow cover aside. I wouldn't trade our life here for anything, but the thought of that house fills me with nostalgia. Deep down, I think it's more that I miss who we were before the changes, before this newest set of challenges. Before we knew that something we basically took as a given would be such a trial.

Losing. My. Patience.