Anywhere But Here

Some days, when things are particularly tough, I just want to make it all go away.  Not in a morbid way, but just in an alternate universe sort of way.  The past six months have been hard.  It's been a near-constant stream of anxiety and problems punctuated by a handful of really difficult spikes.  Jacob's issues have been one after another.  Sometimes they resolve, sometimes they come back, sometimes they never really go away.  It's led to a lot of worries, a lot of questions, and a lot of unknowns, some of which persist to this day.  Carter has had a couple issues of his own, and so have I.  The only two times I can really compare it to are most of 2013 when Jacob's behavior issues and Celiac diagnosis had us at a complete loss, and late 2014-early 2015 when we seemed to have every illness under the sun for months on end, and losing my job in the middle of it was the cherry on top.  The relentlessness of both of those is on par with this, but the weight this time is maybe only equaled by that first instance.  There were so many issues and unknowns back then, where I literally didn't know what kind of future Jacob might have.  Based on the awful outbursts he had then, I had visions of a violent, erratic teenager, and it made me wonder whether any of us would survive that, or at the very least worry what kind of horrible mental health treatment situations we'd have to endure.  Eleven years later, thankfully those fears didn't entirely come to pass.  Very little of this journey has been easy, and we do see flashes of that anxiety-induced temper sometimes, but luckily those moments have been pretty isolated and we've avoided any of the worst-case scenarios I had in my head then.  But the weight of such an unknown future was heavy.

And now, truthfully, things feel unknown and scary in a very similar way.  I don't like that a lot of these health issues from the past six months have persisted, and sometimes I feel like there may be answers out there that are scarier than what's floating in my head.  But then I try to tell myself that's probably the anxiety talking.  Even still, I've said before that I feel like we're at a point where I'm not even sure what doctor to reach out to next.  I want to help him and don't mind banging down doors, but...which ones am I doing, and at what point do they just write us off as crazy or overbearing?  Some symptoms can be associated with concerning diagnoses, but am I just connecting too many random dots in my head, or is it really something to dig into?

Anyway, those issues continue to weigh on me, and now we have the added bonus of financial constraints since that our savings has been significantly gutted by the new roof.  It's nice to have it done and not worry about the gaping, leaking hole in our garage, but not having that extra security sucks.  It also means that other interior projects I wanted to do are going to have to wait longer.  Adding to it is that the housing market is completely out of control and we have a kid that's miserable in the school he's at, and there's pretty much no way we could ever move without completely bankrupting ourselves.  Between the rising costs of houses, the bidding wars, the additional property taxes those higher prices involve, and ridiculously high mortgage rates, there's simply no way it's feasible right now.  But I also don't know how to solve Jacob's problem, nor do I want to screw over Carter in the process, since he's settled in at his school.

Long story short, I share all of this because sometimes the problems we have feel impossible to solve.  And yet, I know so many others who are suffering so terribly badly, like my childhood friend whose daughter is near the end of two-plus years of leukemia treatment but still worries herself to death that it will come back--like last week when one of her labs came back with "other cells" that they were worried were cancer cells.  And sadly, I knew the absolute fear and dread and hopelessness she was feeling, although I know my version is just a tiny sliver compared to all she's dealt with in the last two years.  I could barely withstand the weight of mine over these last six months, which fortunately has mostly amounted to nothing, but I know hers is even more immense because it is all very clear, real, life-threatening stuff.  I see people down south who lost everything due to hurricanes, other people dealing with death, cancer, or other illnesses, and people who have giant problems I could never dream of.  Politically we don't know what the future holds, and some of the predictions are scary.  The empath in me just feels at a complete loss sometimes because the hole of despair can seem endless.  I know I'm at a point in my life where, despite life getting richer as a whole, things inevitably will get sadder as we go on.  It all just feels like too much sometimes.

So, getting back to my original point, sometimes I just want to escape to an alternate reality where none of this stuff exists.  I've "complained" here before about Jacob's tendency to assume a vacation will fix all the problems.  I get it, I do, and it does certainly tend to put them on hold for a while.  The escape can be blissful.  In reality, of course, those problems are usually waiting for us when we get back, so it's still not the quick fix we'd like it to be.  But in this season of cozy nights and winter lights, I tend to fantasize more than ever about where I'd teleport myself if I had the chance.  I don't know what it is about this time of year that does it to me--maybe it's the cold, maybe it's warm fuzzy holiday memories of the past--but now more than ever, as I said in a recent post, it's mostly about lifting that weight for a while and going back to a time where it never even existed.  Where would I go?

1) First semester of college - I already mentioned this one in a previous post for its silly "Cecilia" memory, but there were other things that made that semester special.  I think just discovering all these new things and feeling like I "belonged" in a way I hadn't before made it a pivotal, fulfilling time for me.  Living on my own, having a perfect match roommate, making new friends, discovering new experiences, all of it just felt so empowering.  Even crappy, rainy afternoons transformed to "cozy" once I was back snuggled on my bed studying or napping.  Everything just hit different.  I also had a blooming crush by the end of the semester, and even a virus from hell and a rough exam week couldn't completely dampen the excitement of that time.  And knowing I had six weeks at home at the end to (mostly) chill out?  Priceless.

My desk back then, before I even brought our old Apple II GS back to school for the spring

Just a couple kids...and I still use those leaf Stick-ees on the window!

2) My brother's basketball games - This seems like a funny one, especially in light of being in basketball season with my own child now, but bear with me.  There was something special about those nights.  In fact, there were few things better than a Friday night around middle school age where I wrapped up cheerleading in a basketball game myself, came home, changed, and was immediately whisked off to dinner en route to one of John's games.  It was even better when it was on the road at a different high school, just for something different and added possibilities to the places we might eat out.  Looking back, there was definitely an ease to sitting in the back of my parents' car, off on an "adventure" for the night, and not having to make any decisions--including whether our dinner out was too expensive or unneeded, as I do now.  I didn't have much of a social life back then, so it made my Friday (and sometimes Tuesday) nights feel pretty exciting.  And usually we had other family there, so that always made it even more fun. 

This was usually my view from those games

3) European Christmas Markets - Away from the "real life realm" and into the fantasy realm, this time of year I am obsessed with my Christmas market webcams.  This past week I was even more tormented because a local social media/news anchor guy was over touring them, so on top of my usual webcams I was seeing all these amazing pictures and videos of the things he saw.  If I ever have some spare cash and he's still doing these trips annually, I am hopping along for one of his tours.  But the couple hundred cameras I usually browse over the course of December are just magical.  The lights, the rides, the ice rinks, the shopping stalls, the giant trees--it's enchanting.  They're not all like that, but the good ones make you want to transport there and just wander for hours, eating your way through.  I always remind myself it's probably freezing, but it seems downright dreamy.  I also have a little Playmobil Christmas market setup on my dressser (a clearance Wegmans purchase years ago--I believe on an exasperated medicine run during that 2014-15 illness-fest I mentioned above) that reminds me daily of my goal to make it to one for real.  But for now, I'd love to magically transport.

4) View from other people's windows - There are groups on Facebook called things like "View from my Window" where people submit pictures from a window in their corner of the world.  I'm always surprised when I see a local one, because it makes the world seem awfully small, but every once in a while there is a picture from the most picturesque location that makes you want to jump through your screen and curl up on their couch with a mug of cocoa and the coziest blanket ever.  Most of the ones that do that to me, especially this time of year, are in Scandinavia.  They have these amazing fjord or mountain views, floor to ceiling windows with lovely decor that skews cozy-modern, and the pièce de résistance for me is the amazing illuminated paper stars they all hang in their windows this time of year.  It's always dark there right now (or mostly), which might do me in, but if I could freeze myself in their beautiful sunset views, it seems like it would be so peaceful.

Disclosure: I took this from IKEA's website, as I figured it was less creepy than stealing someone's actual house photo, but it's a good representation of what I'm talking about--just imagine a dreamy sunset over a fjord in the background. 

5) The floor of my parents' or grandparents' living room - Let's face it, little else compares to Christmas as a kid.  Mine were amazing.  And as long as my grouchy digestive system cooperated, Christmas morning was priceless.  And there was pretty much no better place to be than on my grandparents' floor on Christmas night.  Of course, I was always a little grumpy that the adults got the seats and it usually involved a long wait for a gift with my name on it, but to go back to a moment where nearly everyone was still alive (aside from my grandpa I barely knew), the gifts were plentiful and exciting, and I was able to be fully immersed in the Christmas spirit without the adult Christmas stress, I mean...wow.  When I see my plentiful collection of Advent calendars now (all but one from my youth), I do remember how hard the waiting was.  We had one family calendar with a nativity theme, one countdown in our kitchen, two fun ones in my room, and later one mini-tree with ornaments on the kitchen table, and the wait to get to my favorite days--especially for the ones in my room--was immense.  Now I have all of those in my house except the one countdown.  This is the first year at my house for the mini-tree, and years ago we added a plastic canvas one my mom did for us (finished out of a stash my grandma left) that adds ornaments to a tree with Velcro.  Carter doesn't seem nearly as tortured by the wait, but if that was my biggest Christmas complication, I'd go back in a heartbeat just to feel all the magic again.

Not my most flattering pic, but this shows the floor chaos as I'm holding probably my absolute favorite Christmas gift ever.

6) Punta Cana - If you'd have asked me last year, I'd probably have put Disney in this slot.  And trust me, that's not out of the question, but it feels too complicated and expensive for my taste right now.  But if I could transport back to Punta Cana in June, I'd definitely do that.  I know that I had a lot of problems waiting for me when I got back, but there are moments I wish I could soak that paradise in a little bit longer.  I look at pictures sometimes and can't believe I was there.  It was so tropical, so luxurious, and so rare to be alone with Craig and hanging out with other adults, which we rarely do.  It was a break unlike any other we'd had since we had kids and there are moments I just want to be sitting by that pool (or beach) again.

Ultimately, I get it--I'm blessed in so many ways.  Just having the memories above, or even the ability to dream about the other two, is so much more than so many people have.  And if the last six months weren't a thing, I think I'd actually be better now than I have been in years.  The boys almost get along, certain things are good and steady, and ultimately we have a good life.  It's not uncomplicated, mind you, but it's a life full of love and good memories.  As a result, despite the struggles that plague me, I know there will be times in the future when I look back and think THIS was a better time.  That's a bit of a scary thought, but sadly I know it's probably true in one form or another.  In the immortal words of Andy Bernard from "The Office" - “I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them.”  I suppose we know, but we always have the hope of even better, right?  Without hope, we'd probably wither away.  So, I'm trying to embrace what I have, seek out the good, and savor it while I can.  Some days are harder than others, but I'm trying.  But if you find me looking off blankly into the distance, at least now you know where I might be.