So I've slept under this roof for ten nights now. And as our things finally find a place within this house, it is slooooowly becoming our home. But it's been hard. I've been a bit of an emotional wreck at times. This started a few weeks back, even before the actual move.
The morning we closed on the house I was happy. I was excited. A new start. All the good was bubbling to the surface. And then I drove home (i.e. to Atlanta) a few hours later to spend the weekend with my best girlfriends from law school to celebrate the upcoming arrival of a new baby boy. He's my friend's first baby. And I won't be in the same city anymore to just drop by on a whim and hold him.
A few hours into the evening I was hit with a panic attack. A slow wave of anxiety rolled in and it simply wouldn't leave. I was with friends I've known for 10 years. People I love and trust. But I couldn't shake this awful feeling and pounding in my heart. As the minutes ticked away I kept trying to tell myself that I was fine. I knew this was just anxiety, but I couldn't stop the feeling. Eventually, after midnight, I got in my car and drove to my parents so I could sleep in the same bed with my husband and wake up to my boys' smiling faces. It is hard to admit that I couldn't shake it on my own. That I needed my husband to make it all okay. But that night, that's what I needed.
Looking back, I think that night it hit me (maybe subconsciously if not consciously) that the signing of the papers to purchase the house meant we were really moving. And that the time was coming quickly. It is one thing to anticipate a big change. It is quite another thing when it actually happens.
Thankfully that's been the only major anxiety I've had in the past month, but there have been bouts of sadness and tears. I'm frustrated not knowing where anything is - a good park, the best coffee shop, a dry cleaners. And it's hard going from working full time to staying-at-home with two small children. I know that part is temporary and there have been many moments of joy in my current SAHM role and I love most days of it, but it's isolating. Many days the only adult I talk to is my husband when he gets home from work. It is a massive change. So much change at once.
I know. I know I will make friends. I know the boys will make friends. I know we will make a life here and I know I will be happy. But this starting over part is rough. It's scary to reach out to friends-of-friends and hope you make a connection. You second guess if the neighbor who came over with cinnamon rolls and offered you her phone number and said to call if you need anything really meant it. At this point, I know it won't hurt to try. But it's still hard to put yourself out there.
No comments:
Post a Comment