Familiarity Breeds Contentment

The last few weeks have been hard.  I haven’t really felt like doing any of the things I like to do.  Socializing, reading, listening to podcasts, writing, even going for walks! The only things I’ve forced myself to continue doing were my morning worships and weekly exercise routines.  (And for those of you who know me, you know it’s bad when my husband is feeling more social than I am!)  Even though I recognized “it”, named “it”, and called “it” out, all I could do was wait for the transition blues to pass.  I can’t say I’m in the clear.  I can only say that for the time being, I’m feeling better.

A few things triggered this month’s dip in my transition curve.  For starters, we’ve been in Kentucky now for about three months.  Actually three months today! And each month has been different.  The first month everything was new and grand.  Every day was a new experience and finding new routes home were adventures I was up for.  I made friends in the community, started a class with a great bunch of women, and had plenty of time to myself to think and process.  The second month, I started actively searching for a job, and four substitute days in, I landed a long-term substitute position at a school near my girls.  It was a month of new schedules, new routines, all the while dealing with a ton of medical appointments and medical insurance woes.  And when that finally passed, and I started working full weeks at my new job at the start of November, it felt like my life settled without me and I was feeling less than settled. 

I journaled about my unrest pleading with God to give me peace: Lord, I feel unwell in my soul.  I know it’s a normal part of transition, but boy do I wish to feel better.  Thank you, God, for what we do have, and all the spaces where we are settled.  Be with my spirit.  Help my mind to be stayed on You. I feel it slipping.

I wrote friends: I think I’m mourning my life before and trying to make my way in my life now.  Both are exhausting.

And I waited.    

Some things didn’t help for sure.  Searching flights on Expedia to anywhere from Kentucky was a bad idea.  Waiting for messages from friends in Egypt on WhatsApp and telling myself I had to let them “bury me in their minds” was heartbreaking.  Starting our yearly picture book, and pining over places and people in the process was disheartening. I finally put myself to bed one evening earlier than usual, had the girls give me good night kisses, and slept. And slept. And slept.

It wasn’t magic, but it sure helped.

And then, yesterday, as I chatted with colleagues at our monthly work potluck, drove my daughter to an appointment and found my way home without the GPS, came home and called my neighbor to thank her for watching the girls, and prepared the back bedroom for the arrival of my inlaws (our second guests this month), I realized I’d turned a corner. 

Life feels a bit more familiar now, and I’m OK with that.