Bipolar Life- The Journal #27

A quick note..

I fear optimism. To be optimistic in my current situation runs the risk of disappointment; I am unsure if I can withstand another disappointment.

I fear pessimism. To be pessimistic in my world indicates a lack of faith in God. I have questioned so much along this lonesome journey, but my faith and his faithfulness I keep separate.

Is there a name for the ‘in between’? Can one be pessimistically optimistic? If so, that’s where I stand, or lay, depending on my mood.

I sit in wait, yet again, wondering what comes next. At this very moment, I should be feeling a sigh of relief and excitement for the next phase of life. My sweet kiddos, my grandchildren who I have cared for a year now, head back home. My heart aches at the thought, fears the unknown, and smiles to return to plain ole nanny!! A role I cherish. There is a big difference between weekend and full time nanny. I am delighted to be the spoiler once again.

It’s the transition that has me stuck in limbo. Will all flow steady to give the children the best chance? Are all focused on their well being? Is the past staying where it belongs, in the rear view mirror? About now I am praying to hear His voice loud and clear, or wishing for one of those talking mirror mirror on the wall things. Anything to bring comfort and peace to the new beginning.

Tonight I am numb. I wonder if the ongoing chest pain is stress related. I feel age creeping up everywhere, given an extra push by the cortisol hormone, or so I believe. Is fatigue to be expected with an overworked mind? Will the tension in my shoulders and neck ever release? Will I ever smile again? I miss smiling other than the day to day forced smile that turns on during work hours. I am good at appearing ‘ok’.

That’s it for tonight. It is 10:00 o’clock and I am off to fold laundry and watch some broken hearted movie while I fold jeans and shirts. Something about folding laundry alone at night gives me comfort. I control every fold, and that control feels good.

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