Last Monday, my family was in the midst of magic. We began a week-long Walt Disney World dream trip that was postponed twice. It was fun, y’all. Exhaustingly fun. We returned home with sore feet, yet we were thankful.
As we entered our home Saturday night, we see water coming from places it shouldn’t be. Suddenly, the magic and the soreness were a distant memory. Once again within almost two years of the last great pipe bust, we were faced with another. We do not know the extent of the damage and fear it could be bigger than before. The rooms affected in 2021 are untouched, thank goodness.
In therapy, I’ve been working on when my anxiety started and trying to retrain those memories into something more positive. I’m trying not to step into each day waiting for another shoe to drop or more bad news to hit us. Baby steps, but I saw progress.
A dream trip. Memories for my kids. My beautiful mom who planned all the magic for each of us. Then, that shoe dropped with a loud bang we didn’t see coming.
Surprisingly, I didn’t overact right away. And trust me, I can overreact like a pro. My son even said he was proud of me. Maybe it’s the therapy or the magic lingering, but I just took one small step into our new bad thing and prayed for the rest.
This morning though, when friends were checking on me, I felt the need to be real. I’m tired of interruption, shoes falling, a house falling apart again. I’m tired of the anxiety being right. I’m tired of taking steps back in therapy to stop working on one life event to have to discuss another.
Christmas will be different now. I don’t know what tomorrow holds. I share because talking about anxiety and all things real life helps me. When I see others do the same, I love how less alone I feel. There’s too much “showy” behavior on social media that makes you feel less than or people telling you to be grateful – “it could be worse.” When the truth is, it’s all relative to your life.
One week ago, we were walking down Main Street at Magic Kingdom. Today, we are walking on water-stained areas watching walls being demoed. I don’t want to be a downer, but I want life to be accurately shared for all moms to see. A safe space to be real.
And when we’ve struggled before with loss and busted pipes, I’ve found peace in sharing those journeys. I’ve found comfort in the realness people share back.
I ask for prayers yet again. I’m defeated and tired, but we’ve done hard things before.
Let’s just go another round.
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