Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Re-entry

I struggle to maintain an even keel when returning home after a trip. It feels like there's never enough time to get organized for the week. There's a point when I look around and see the messes we'd left behind plus the bags we've just returned home with and I just want to scream. Instead of taking small steps towards progress I freeze up and attempt to bury my head in the internet sand.

At a recent session, my therapist suggested simply acknowledging that the first day or two back home is hard for me. Don't put too much pressure on myself to get everything organized or running smoothly. I really worked on that today- acknowledged that our late return yesterday had me feeling anxious, acknowledged that while I didn't feel ready for the week, the week was ready for me, and accepted that though today our bags remain packed, they'll be unpacked in due time.

Despite my wonderful walk this morning, I felt pretty crappy by early evening. Bags strewn all over the living room and hallway, backpacks and folders all over the family room, all kinds of stuff covering the dining and kitchen tables, and not an inch of kitchen counter space visible. Add one bizarre phone call from my mom and what do you get? Sobbing.

I'm floundering a bit in the chaos of re-entry into everyday life. It's ok though. My children gave me hugs as I cried. They asked why I was crying out of genuine concern for my well being. The four of us worked on the family room together, and got the backpacks in order for tomorrow. Despite the tears, I'm putting one foot in front of the other, doing the small things, and sitting with the discomfort of re-entry.

2 comments:

BipolarLawyerCook said...

Oh, friend. Hugs.

rhonda said...

i guess it really doesn't matter what we do, we each have issues with re-entry. : )
You haven't been the right places to her me talk of how hard I work at cleaning before leaving for any trip. I'm always fearly that I will die while gone and people will think we're pigs. Even if I'm leaving the family home--which of course means a disaster 20 minutes after I'm gone.
Its never easy my friend. : )