If you are highly susceptible to emotional states (a characteristic of Enneagram Type 4's), you will be at risk of being moody on a regular basis. This is an issue I have struggled with my whole life.
Today, I found myself crying (quietly) on the way home after a long morning in Floresville. My hubby and I had worked out together, then gone shopping to HEB. Yeah, my life is pretty dull! But I haven't gotten to the really sad part yet, in case you were wondering. Somewhere in there, we had also gone to see if our 17-year-old spent the night where he said he did. We were there around 9:30 am, way too early for teenagers to be up and about yet. But no truck (Austin's latest set of wheels) was anywhere to be seen. I hate when I've lost track of one of my children, which is happening with greater frequency with my high school senior lately. I don't know what in the world I will do when he goes off to college! I'll have to write him off as permanently lost, I guess. He eventually turned up, on his own schedule, which was about 2 hours later than my nerves would prefer, driving home from a different friend's house, where he had gone sometime in the wee hours of the morning. He will be gone all day today with band, get home late after the football game in SA, and have to open at Sonic in the morning. Somehow, he will get through it all. Ah, youth!
But let me not imply that Austin's presence is not still felt back at home, even when he's rarely here. He still leaves behind a mountain of laundry and a room in permanent disarray, just to remind us that he's really not gone yet. Only when all his dirty socks, clothes, stray shoes and laptop and plugs and game controls and discs and dirty dishes and snack wrappers, no longer grace various places throughout the house, will we know for sure that he's no longer living at home. Or maybe those things will linger behind forever. Maybe the house will never be clear of the messy, smelly clutter that only a teenage boy can create. We walk by his room and notice, always, a distinct odor. Sort of like the musky animal smells at the zoo, or of a male cat spraying his territory. Yup! Must be a teenage boy sleeping somewhere in the depths of that den. Lately, it's been overlaid with a heavy, lingering smell of grease, courtesy of Sonic.
So back to my hopeless downward spiral into despair, earlier today. The alleged reason for my tears and feeling of being in a bottomless void was this recurring theme in my life lately: losing my son. (I will lose both of my kids in the next few years, but I'm focusing on one at a time here.) I cried because a cruel, uncaring God had cursed me with two sons, no daughters. The problem with sons is they can't wait to flee the nest. I know this is somewhat irrational, as my younger son has much less inclination to leave home, and in fact, we may have to pry him loose from his nest here sometime because he is so comfortable here! But as we were coming home, I was reflecting on a larger theme: the emptiness and futility of my life to date. The misery was easy to expand upon -- I had one parent in the grave and the other seemingly well on his way; children getting ready to grow up and leave me far behind; precious few friends; and a husband who wasn't even aware how upset I was. (Actually, this is a good thing, as what I hate most is for someone to be nagging at me when I'm upset -- "What's wrong?" Makes it so much worse, because I can rarely explain in a way that anyone else would understand.)
After lunch, I realized that there was another reason for my bottoming out, and it had to do with low blood sugar. No kidding! Yeah, my body got me, yet again. It's amazing how much a physical issue -- like low blood sugar -- can feel just like the world coming to an end, things falling apart, the shadow side of everything becoming dominant. It always takes me by surprise when it happens.
So, my child is still gone for the day, and still on his way out the door. I have the right to be sad about it. But I guess my world isn't coming to an end just yet. Not today, anyhow.
Today, I found myself crying (quietly) on the way home after a long morning in Floresville. My hubby and I had worked out together, then gone shopping to HEB. Yeah, my life is pretty dull! But I haven't gotten to the really sad part yet, in case you were wondering. Somewhere in there, we had also gone to see if our 17-year-old spent the night where he said he did. We were there around 9:30 am, way too early for teenagers to be up and about yet. But no truck (Austin's latest set of wheels) was anywhere to be seen. I hate when I've lost track of one of my children, which is happening with greater frequency with my high school senior lately. I don't know what in the world I will do when he goes off to college! I'll have to write him off as permanently lost, I guess. He eventually turned up, on his own schedule, which was about 2 hours later than my nerves would prefer, driving home from a different friend's house, where he had gone sometime in the wee hours of the morning. He will be gone all day today with band, get home late after the football game in SA, and have to open at Sonic in the morning. Somehow, he will get through it all. Ah, youth!
But let me not imply that Austin's presence is not still felt back at home, even when he's rarely here. He still leaves behind a mountain of laundry and a room in permanent disarray, just to remind us that he's really not gone yet. Only when all his dirty socks, clothes, stray shoes and laptop and plugs and game controls and discs and dirty dishes and snack wrappers, no longer grace various places throughout the house, will we know for sure that he's no longer living at home. Or maybe those things will linger behind forever. Maybe the house will never be clear of the messy, smelly clutter that only a teenage boy can create. We walk by his room and notice, always, a distinct odor. Sort of like the musky animal smells at the zoo, or of a male cat spraying his territory. Yup! Must be a teenage boy sleeping somewhere in the depths of that den. Lately, it's been overlaid with a heavy, lingering smell of grease, courtesy of Sonic.
So back to my hopeless downward spiral into despair, earlier today. The alleged reason for my tears and feeling of being in a bottomless void was this recurring theme in my life lately: losing my son. (I will lose both of my kids in the next few years, but I'm focusing on one at a time here.) I cried because a cruel, uncaring God had cursed me with two sons, no daughters. The problem with sons is they can't wait to flee the nest. I know this is somewhat irrational, as my younger son has much less inclination to leave home, and in fact, we may have to pry him loose from his nest here sometime because he is so comfortable here! But as we were coming home, I was reflecting on a larger theme: the emptiness and futility of my life to date. The misery was easy to expand upon -- I had one parent in the grave and the other seemingly well on his way; children getting ready to grow up and leave me far behind; precious few friends; and a husband who wasn't even aware how upset I was. (Actually, this is a good thing, as what I hate most is for someone to be nagging at me when I'm upset -- "What's wrong?" Makes it so much worse, because I can rarely explain in a way that anyone else would understand.)
After lunch, I realized that there was another reason for my bottoming out, and it had to do with low blood sugar. No kidding! Yeah, my body got me, yet again. It's amazing how much a physical issue -- like low blood sugar -- can feel just like the world coming to an end, things falling apart, the shadow side of everything becoming dominant. It always takes me by surprise when it happens.
So, my child is still gone for the day, and still on his way out the door. I have the right to be sad about it. But I guess my world isn't coming to an end just yet. Not today, anyhow.
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I am here to say I've survived Ellie's departure and the waiting for it was so much worse than the actual event itself. She, like Austin, was very ready to flee. Joel is gone more and more....going to parties and hanging out with "school kids" LOL and working...but I'm feeling good about where the kids are right now. And you know how neurotic I was about it just a few weeks ago! And yes - the body gets you. I get very PMS-y and afterwards I can see how it caused all of the emotional upheaval and I vow to recognize it the next time it happens so that it won't get the better of me...and yet I can never get a grip on it when I'm in the middle of it. Every time I'm like, "The world is coming to an end...it really is...the fact that my cycle is where it is is just a cooincidence." Also...it just is what it is. We're on the bridge - heading to a new place but not wanting to completely cross because there's no going back. I hope I'm one of your precious few friends :).
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