Gee, I'd thought this whole trip down to help my parents was going to be a break from the stresses of my life. I was right and completely wrong, simultaneously.
Technically, the stresses I'm experiencing are not normal stresses for my life. So in the most literal sense, I'm getting a break. That said, the spirit of that phrase "break from the stresses of life" tends to mean "a break from stress" and that I most definitely am not getting.
I think I've actually been miserable pretty much since I arrived. I've mostly not paid attention to it, since there's been lots of work to be done. But in the moments when there isn't work, and more and more recently as I've run out of patience and energy faster, I am definitely miserable.
Maybe this shouldn't be surprising. I'm away from my spouse and my apartment and my bed. I haven't been sleeping well due to the change in beds. The house my parents lived in has almost no insulation from noise, meaning I could hear people going up and down the stairs, doing dishes in the kitchen, going out to the garage, talking... and my dad gets up at 5am relatively often.
This meant I didn't sleep well... but it also meant that I was constantly subjected to noise abuse. Anytime someone touched dishes or cupboards, I suffered. And because they were moving and they eat three meals a day, that was often. So I spent a lot of energy dealing with that, with the poor sleep giving me an ever-decreasing supply of energy.
This trip also lacked a decent place for me to be alone and isolated from other people. Normally, at home, my apartment is reasonably sound-proofed. Not perfect, but okay. And when Chris is at work, I have the place to myself, which gives me plenty of time to recharge, focus, and get work done. Not so here. There was work to do from sunup to sundown, and the only reasonably quiet, alone time I was able to get was around 1-2am, after both parents were asleep. And I quickly stopped taking advantage of that, because my mother would be up by 8am or earlier. So I was basically trading sleep for sanity. I figured out pretty quick that it was a bad tradeoff.
I've sort of deteriorated over the last week. I arrived a reasonably cheerful, smiling daughter with ambitions to help. As the days passed, I sort of slowly lost the ability to smile and make eye contact. Which was kind of distressing, but given how tired and emotionally worn I was, is also maybe not surprising. I'm kind of down to "put one foot in front of the other and someday this will end" mode. I've mostly stopped making eye contact, and retreated into being selectively mute (I don't talk unless I'm asked a question or need to say something important). It's felt bad, though, because even without making eye contact and checking the facial expressions, I know I'm not doing the neurotypical act properly, and there are consequences to that. Mostly slightly hurt feelings in people I'll never see again, thus far, though.
I've complained about this trip a lot, dear reader, but you should keep in mind that it's not really anyone's fault, except maybe mine for signing up for it. Moving is a stressful process no matter who you are, and this particular move was fast-paced and stressful even for my parents. Also, they had never been told how much their cupboards and dishes and such hurt me, and it had never been a problem for me to simply stay in my old room before. Presumably I wasn't self-aware enough in high school to explain it to them.
Today finds me holed up in a hotel room for another half hour or so, after which the driving begins. Every day prior to Monday was packing/sorting/etc. Monday was when the movers came to pack up the furniture, boxes, etc. I was basically useless that day. The sound of tape ripping, all the time, every time, was so painful that I wore earplugs most of the day, and eventually left the house entirely. Yesterday was spent cleaning the house now that all the stuff was gone. I made myself somewhat useful there, as I had some experience with cleaning residences from a summer job. We then drove about 4 hours to this hotel, where I spent the night.
Which leaves today, the last day of the trip, where we'll drive 10-12 hours to get my parents and their remaining stuff to Michigan. My spouse will be waiting with a hug, some cuddles, and my own bed. I'm looking forward to that. Not the drive, so much, but definitely the stuff after the drive.
Technically, the stresses I'm experiencing are not normal stresses for my life. So in the most literal sense, I'm getting a break. That said, the spirit of that phrase "break from the stresses of life" tends to mean "a break from stress" and that I most definitely am not getting.
I think I've actually been miserable pretty much since I arrived. I've mostly not paid attention to it, since there's been lots of work to be done. But in the moments when there isn't work, and more and more recently as I've run out of patience and energy faster, I am definitely miserable.
Maybe this shouldn't be surprising. I'm away from my spouse and my apartment and my bed. I haven't been sleeping well due to the change in beds. The house my parents lived in has almost no insulation from noise, meaning I could hear people going up and down the stairs, doing dishes in the kitchen, going out to the garage, talking... and my dad gets up at 5am relatively often.
This meant I didn't sleep well... but it also meant that I was constantly subjected to noise abuse. Anytime someone touched dishes or cupboards, I suffered. And because they were moving and they eat three meals a day, that was often. So I spent a lot of energy dealing with that, with the poor sleep giving me an ever-decreasing supply of energy.
This trip also lacked a decent place for me to be alone and isolated from other people. Normally, at home, my apartment is reasonably sound-proofed. Not perfect, but okay. And when Chris is at work, I have the place to myself, which gives me plenty of time to recharge, focus, and get work done. Not so here. There was work to do from sunup to sundown, and the only reasonably quiet, alone time I was able to get was around 1-2am, after both parents were asleep. And I quickly stopped taking advantage of that, because my mother would be up by 8am or earlier. So I was basically trading sleep for sanity. I figured out pretty quick that it was a bad tradeoff.
I've sort of deteriorated over the last week. I arrived a reasonably cheerful, smiling daughter with ambitions to help. As the days passed, I sort of slowly lost the ability to smile and make eye contact. Which was kind of distressing, but given how tired and emotionally worn I was, is also maybe not surprising. I'm kind of down to "put one foot in front of the other and someday this will end" mode. I've mostly stopped making eye contact, and retreated into being selectively mute (I don't talk unless I'm asked a question or need to say something important). It's felt bad, though, because even without making eye contact and checking the facial expressions, I know I'm not doing the neurotypical act properly, and there are consequences to that. Mostly slightly hurt feelings in people I'll never see again, thus far, though.
I've complained about this trip a lot, dear reader, but you should keep in mind that it's not really anyone's fault, except maybe mine for signing up for it. Moving is a stressful process no matter who you are, and this particular move was fast-paced and stressful even for my parents. Also, they had never been told how much their cupboards and dishes and such hurt me, and it had never been a problem for me to simply stay in my old room before. Presumably I wasn't self-aware enough in high school to explain it to them.
Today finds me holed up in a hotel room for another half hour or so, after which the driving begins. Every day prior to Monday was packing/sorting/etc. Monday was when the movers came to pack up the furniture, boxes, etc. I was basically useless that day. The sound of tape ripping, all the time, every time, was so painful that I wore earplugs most of the day, and eventually left the house entirely. Yesterday was spent cleaning the house now that all the stuff was gone. I made myself somewhat useful there, as I had some experience with cleaning residences from a summer job. We then drove about 4 hours to this hotel, where I spent the night.
Which leaves today, the last day of the trip, where we'll drive 10-12 hours to get my parents and their remaining stuff to Michigan. My spouse will be waiting with a hug, some cuddles, and my own bed. I'm looking forward to that. Not the drive, so much, but definitely the stuff after the drive.
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