Thursday, February 01, 2007

Having a hard time

I guess I've hit one of those rough patches. I know it's just temporary, and there's still joy in Christ, but wow, things are just hard right now. I'm still fighting this crud. I've been on antibiotics for a little over a week now, and I was getting better, but then the coughing started getting worse again, and I've had a sinus headache for like two weeks now. So that's not making life any easier. I missed a week of work, but went back this past Saturday. Not feeling quite up to par is not a good thing for being in training. But then again, being in training just SUCKS anyway! There, I said it. I hate it. I want to quit. There, I said that too. I'm not all that convinced I like dispatching anyway. Even if I don't always love talking to some of the callers, I'm GOOD at it, and that feels good. I'm not sure I like the job of keeping track of all the officers and being responsible for their safety. Plus so far I just really stink at it. I can't keep up when it's busy and I can't always hear what it is they're telling me. My trainer keeps saying to type and repeat what they say, but how can I do that if it sounds like a foreign language that I've never heard before? I had an officer the other night tell me that he tased someone, and I totally DID NOT hear it. Luckily my trainer did. That scares me though. I don't want to be putting these officers in danger, it would kill me if something bad happened because I made a mistake. The other day, I almost quit training. I was frustrated to the point of tears (again, gosh I hate crying at work! But they tell me that's normal...) But, I didn't feel good about just quitting training yet. I decided to give it one month, and if I still hate it this much and I'm still struggling, I'm out of there and back to 911 where I actually know what I'm doing. Well, most of the time. Because there's so much other.... junk... in life, I don't need to be this stressed out over something that's not going to make THAT much of a difference in our quality of life.

Yes, and the other junk. In the middle of my bronchitis induced fog, Snugglebutt's teacher called me. It was not good. He's not been turning in his homework, and he's been quite disruptive in class, especially music. For some reason, the boy absolutely hates music class. They apparently make him play games and he does not like that. So he throws things and behaves like a little butthead. So we had nice heart to heart talk in which I made it clear that such behavior was not ok and I wouldn't put up with him being a little butthead in school. He promised to do his homework and behave better. Now, I know this is my fault and I should pay more attention to what's really going on with him and school, and check his homework more, but he's not really lied to me before and when he said he did his homework, I believed him. There's just so much to keep up with, lately I feel like the harder I try to keep up with it all, the more I fall behind. So yesterday I got a note that he hadn't turned in his homework at all, and that he's still being disruptive. Not that I want him to use it as an excuse, but I know he still has a lot of feelings he can't express about his dad and all that happened. Sometimes I think he's well adjusted and happy, and others I think he's just falling apart on the inside. He's been in counseling and that's helped some, but I think there are wounds there that he's not going to let anybody near. Hopefully when he's ready he'll let God heal him...

But I can't even talk to him about healing I guess because I'm struggling just as much as he is. I go through phases where I feel healed and ready and able to move on with my life. I think of all that happened very little, and I feel strong and confident. Then I go through other phases where I can't get it out of my head or heart, and it hurts again. And in those times, I don't feel strong or confident. I simply cannot fathom why this man did what he did - I don't know that I will ever understand. I know what triggered the return of the bad feelings this time, and it really wasn't that big of a deal. I don't know why I can't seem to find my way back to where I was before. I pray and, well, it's just a time when God seems far away. I know it's not Him that moved... but I'm not sure how I moved, where I went, or how to get back.

Honestly? I want to tell the world that I'm completely over this thing. I don't want to hurt, I don't want to be a victim anymore. I want to say I've completely risen above the the pain this person caused. But I'd be lying. And I'd be fake. I don't want to be fake. So here's real for you - this still hurts. A lot. And I hate that it does. I hate that my son, the one who was supposed to the only one of the 7 kids between us who didn't come from a broken home, does indeed come from a broken home. There's more, but I can't put a voice to it right now.

The more I hold it in though, the more damage it does. So, I'm putting it out here because secrets have no power if they aren't secrets anymore. I'm not looking for advice or sympathy, maybe some prayers... but really it's just the release of spilling it all that I'm looking for. And that really does help.

Even though things are really hard, I still know I am very very blessed. Yesterday as I was talking to Snugglebutt about his problems at school, I was trying to explain to him what it's like being a grown up - to be responsible for so many things. Part of the conversation went a little like this:
Me: And there are all these bills that I have to make sure get paid on time, every month.
Him: Like the electric bill?
Me: Yes, exactly.
Him: And the water bill?
Me: Yes, and the insurance, and the car payment and...
Him: And the duck bill?
Me: Yes, the... No! Duck bill!
And I couldn't help but laugh myself silly. At not even 7 years old, the boy sure does know how to lighten things up :)

So now's the part where I wince when hit publish...

2 comments:

Janean said...

OH WOW! I am so there with you! I swear we are twins seperated at birth. It occured to me that trying to live this life is like trying to hold Gak or Slime in your hand. It's cold and clammy...and just when you think you can stand it and you have it all under control, you discover that the ucky stuff is leaking off the backside of your hand onto the carpet.
Does that make any sense at all? :D
You are in my prayers always, my friend.

Grafted Branch said...

Your boy, and my Dumpling sound like their cut from the same cloth!

Hope you feel better. Remember the acidophilus (sp?) to counteract the antibiotics, o.k.? You'll feel stronger if you do.