Hey everyone, I’m back from my temporary settling-into-my-new-house-trying-not-to-have-a-mental-breakdown hiatus! I’ll be back to posting once a week now, and here is an update on my life. As you can probably imagine from my title, I did just cry over burnt bacon and I’m having a bad day.
We have lived in our new house for two weeks now. As you saw in my last post, we’ve done a lot of renovating and we still have a lot to go over the next few months. Most of the stuff that we could do ourselves, is already done. The rest of it will be done by professionals – so we kind of feel like things are starting to settle down.
Overall, I thought I was doing great. Transitions are REALLY hard for me, but this one didn’t hit me like the other three times we have moved in the last two and a half years.
Unlike the other moves, this was finally MY house. MY space to do whatever the heck I want with. I know nothing is certain, permanent, or totally stable – but it is nice to finally have some semblance of stability in my life. It felt good. Plus, it feels like my little house was personally made for me, so within a few days, I finally felt at home.
Still, even during those good times, anxiety forever holds on. A few days after we moved, I noticed a small rash on my chest/stomach. In December, I went to the doctor for the exact same rash – turns out it was eczema, and within a few weeks, completely disappeared.
I assumed the same thing was going on, so I started moisturizing like crazy hoping it would go away.
It got much, much worse.
One of my WORST fears is having an allergic reaction – so of course, I immediately assumed I was dying of some sort of unknown allergic reaction! Now with blotchy red patches all over my chest, back, stomach, and arms, I went to my doctor.
“It’s nothing serious, whatever it is.”
Whatever it is.
That’s not an answer. That’s not eczema. My doctor assumed I did react, mildly, to something – just a skin irritation, not a full-blown allergic reaction. But still.
Later I realized I had used a different fabric softener on my sheets, which coincided with the time we moved – like my dad who breaks out unless he uses “sensitive” detergents, I’ve always had sensitive skin, so LOGICALLY this made sense.
But logic doesn’t always matter.
It’s been four days since my visit, and my rash is still here. It’s lighter, and a little less itchy, but it’s still here. If it’s not gone by Monday, I have to go back to the doctors. My doctor wasn’t concerned, she told me it’s nothing serious, but I still haven’t been able to just. stop. thinking about it.
So while trying to get this out of my mind, my husband and I attempted to make dinner. Since moving in to our new home, we’ve vowed to cook all of our meals (instead of getting takeout – our weakness!) We have a mortage now – time to save money.
We had a busy week, so we settled on BLTs. We put the bacon in the oven, and let it sit for how long we did in our old oven. Except, our old oven was, in fact, quite old. And crappy.
So we burnt our bacon to an absolute crisp and that was just the final straw for me. I cried over burnt bacon like a pathetic, sad, person, But in reality, it wasn’t really about the bacon. I think we all know that.
It was about my rash – and how my brain won’t let me enjoy my new home because I just can’t let it go. Even after I saw the doctor. Even after I found a logical explanation.
It was about my move – even though I’m so happy in my new home, moving has been a lot to process. I’m far away from my family and my comfort zone.
It was about my dog – who just turned two but still acts like a dumb puppy and sometimes I feel so discouraged that maybe I raised him poorly and he’ll never be that well-behaved dog I’ve always dreamed of.
It was about me – that I can’t escape anxiety, even for a minute, even when (most) things are seemingly going my way.
The worst part about all this is that I am still crying about that stupid bacon as I write this, because I’m hungry and sad and overwhelmed. But I’ll be okay. And my mom said she’ll make me some bacon tomorrow. So there’s that.