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| Looking for lost storage unit keys at 4 am |
March 2022
I lost my voice in a screaming match with God. I know it could be worse and I’m grateful we’re healthy and strong but why does everything have to be so damn hard.
We’re doing our best but our best isn’t enough. I hate not being enough. Mistake after mistake. $17k mistakes, to be exact, with little ones that add to the feeling of despair.
35 days of meticulous packing, but I’m not a superhero and I don’t think they’ll withstand what they’ve been through and how they’re currently stored. Our belongings are spewed across towns in several different storage units because that’s all we could find. I feel like I might as well have thrown our belongings in the mud and kicked them around. I won’t be surprise if half our stuff needs to be replaced. I know they’re just things and material things don’t really matter—yada yada…but things keep you comfortable and things have to be replaced and things cost money.
All the stress pressing me into oblivion found me screaming at God. Feeling alone. Abandoned. Voice gone and palms hurt from pounding the wheel. No peace found today. I could list what I am grateful for, but still no relief:
I learned how to do chains by myself today.
I had good fish tacos.
Not all our neighbors are assholes.
Paid help is expensive, but at least they help.
No one died.
The end.
I have to repeat this hell tomorrow.
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