Day One Hundred and Forty One - Mood Swing Sally Dreams of Daddy

This week has been rough. Overwhelming really. And it's not even over yet. Work has been relentless. I feel as if I'm barely keeping my head above water. There are moments when I want to throw my phone against the wall because it won't stop going off. I cannot finish an e-mail before another two come in. And then, just when I begin to be on top of it, its off to the other job. Which, frankly, has been sort of a lifesaver. They make me do a lot of OCD work, cutting paper just right, putting ink away, and it helps calm me down. There's not a lot of stress in putting ink away, just the knowledge that if done carefully and methodically, it'll be done correctly the first time. No one has ever had a true paper crisis. Everything happens a little slower there, and I like it. But it's time I cannot be working to keep afloat at the other job. And when I come home, my brain just won't function anymore and I go to bed hoping to get a good start in the morning. Which I can usually handle except...

My internal life also seems to be coming apart at the seams. As we all know, I just don't handle stress very well. And it's been coming from all fronts. I'm trying to let go of something that has held me down, held me back for far too long, only to have it constantly force its way back into my consciousness and present life. Take that confusion, and double it with the fact that I just feel cut off from everyone this week. My phone has been obnoxiously silent. It's not that there is something I want to talk about specifically, I just want to know that someone is there. To top if off, the person that is usually my tether to reality when I get scared or stressed or confused has been outright ignoring me for days. I hate feeling like this. Struggling to keep afloat for just a few more hours, struggling to get it all done on time, struggling to get myself figured out, struggling to be a friend when I don't know what to say, struggling to be okay with feeling a little alone for a few days. It feels like there is a war going on inside and around me that I just don't understand. 

But then I dreamed of my Dad. I still don't understand, but I somehow feel better. I don't remember what he told me in the dream, but I remember that he knew what I should do. I know that after the dream, I felt much better. I remember his face, I remember hugging him, I remember feeling as if everything was going to be okay. I remember, even in the dream, a little part of me felt so elated to talk to him because I knew he was dead, and I knew it wasn't real, but I needed it. I don't remember what he said to me, but I remember the certainty with which he said it. And maybe that'll help my mood swings, the panic that seems to swell up. 

Because fatherhood is the best allegory God ever used to explain Himself to us. It's often warped because fathers fail, often. Some people have truly horrible people who are their biological father. But God is what a father should be. And a lot of my stress and frustration is coming from the feeling that I have been forgotten. Neglected. That maybe there was once a plan for me life but that God just kind of forgot about it and now I'm here, alone and waiting for something that will never come. 

But that's not true. God is a better father than mine was. But even my earthly father would never forget me, he'd know what to do. And so my heavenly Father hasn't forgotten me, He knows what to do. With the same certainty my dad had in the dream, so God has when He writes my life. I'm going to get through this. This crazy stressed week will end, there will be forward momentum in my life. And I know that neither of my dad's have forgotten me. And that helps a whole lot. 

P.S. Do me one favor. If your dad is still alive and isn't a total abusive fuckhead or something, be sure know that you are blessed and that this week especially, I am jealous of you.