Last week my family packed up and moved to a new house. Which I guess is good news? But I have a hard time with change of any kind, even if it’s an improvement.
After we unpacked the boxes and I smudged the house with sage to prevent any negative energy from coming in, I then went on my finding-everything-wrong-with-the-house phase which lasted a week. (I should have smudged myself).
When it was over, I was convinced I made a huge mistake.
I was depressed.
I was blaming myself for putting my family through this kind of stress.
I thought moving to this new house was all my fault and I wanted to die.
Then when I got over that, the self-pity kicked in and I started beating myself up for not being more excited, more grateful, wishing I was the kind of person who naturally felt grateful and excited. That’s why I read so many self-help books, so I can become that kind of person.
But today, as much as I don’t like it, I know myself well enough that I realize this is just how I am. This is my process when big monumental changes occur in my life. When Betsy was born, I had the same reactions. It was not until months later that I realized having her was the best decision I ever made in my life.
The happiness and the joy were delayed. Maybe it was there all along but I couldn’t tell because the shame and anxiety were over riding it. That’s ok. What I have learned is that for me, this how I work. Yes it sucks not to feel more joy when something like this happens, but if I am going to be able to take more in, I have to admit where I am at right now. And where I am at right now, a little over a week living in our new house, is feeling a little less miserable.