Everything is vanity

I had a rough day yesterday.  After leaving home at 9 am to take Baby Peanut to my mother's place,  I had breakfast with her and then went back home to do homework.  When I parked outside the fence was open and the front door was wide open as well.  No signs of the dogs.

In less than an hour the people who broke into our home stole our TV,  the game boy and some games,  my engagement ring and a few hunting rifles.  They stole our calm and safety.  They were considerate enough to trap our dogs inside a bedroom so they wouldn't run away.

I am thankful that it was just things.  Thankful for my dogs' safety.  Thankful I wasn't home,  and that I didn't return while they were still there.  I'm so thankful that we were spared all the worst things that could have happened.

I am surprised I managed to field the whole thing while staying mostly composed.  I was an adult!  I think!  I did call my mom right after the cops,  to ask her to go search for the dogs around the neighborhood,  before I found them in the bedroom.  I called Cookie,  and my father in law (because the rifles,  I had no idea of what we had).  But...  It was weird,  after so many small things have sent me into anxiety attacks and awful episodes,  that this was..  Manageable.

Tomorrow we'll get an alarm system installed.  I don't think there is anything that you can do when people want to harm you.  But I also saw a lot of good people that were willing to help.

Yesterday's reading was from Eclessiastes.  It made me feel better.

All rivers go to the sea,
Yet never does the sea become full.
To the place where they go,
The rivers keep on going.

Nothing we do or experience is permanent.  All things keep on changing and still,  staying the same. Our tribulations are so small for God and the universe.  Our lives are so short.  We better enjoy what matters,  because it will be here for only a second.

The return of the anxiety monster

It's been a difficult couple of weeks.  This weekend in particular was very draining as work has piled on and gotten very demanding,  with clients that aren't satisfied with the end results and projects that have turned to be huge investments of time,  eating away at any profit that we were going to make.
I have stress dreams and lay awake in the small hours of the morning,  thinking of everything that might go wrong and thinking how I can run away from all the imagined disasters.  I am exhausted,  physically and mentally,  short tempered,  sad,  just about ready to drop all work projects and just stay home with the baby.

The MBA is eating away at the few free hours of the weekend.  I am constantly on,  working or thinking about work,  on the phone or preparing budgets and presentations or driving around and buying whatever we need at the construction site.  This is my job,  I know,  it's not asking anything unexpected of me,  but I can barely hold it together.

Cookie and I are having problems too.  Two weeks ago I was on the verge of leaving.  I managed to calm down and we talked,  mostly about redistribution of house chores,  because I am so tired all the time,  I just need something to be off my plate.  Anything.  But it did get really ugly,  even if it was a very calm conversation,  and he said he was ready to leave too, but he was much more confident in our love than I was.  I have been praying and asking for strength and patience and understanding,  because I do love him, and I don't want us to fail.

I thought I was over PPD and PPA.  Thought I had managed to get past them on my own.  But here we are again,  very much in the same state I was in late November.  Needing help and unsure if I want to medicate.

Baby Peanut is doing great.  He walks and plays and climbs and crawls.  I think he's a bit behind since he really doesn't say anything but mama.  But he signs some and I know he understand a lot,  so I hope his vocabulary grows before it officially becomes a speech delay.  He is gorgeous.  Loves his dogs and gently pets them,  loves to give kisses and hugs,  flirts with all the ladies he sees.  I don't know why I torture myself with work.  I wish I had more time for my baby and a more relaxed life.

I guess I'm the only one that can find the balance,  no matter how hard it might be to say no and drop clients and projects.  Something has to give.

Sad and worried

This has been a very difficult week for people I love dearly. Monday we had a national holiday so Cookie stayed home and I only worked half a day at the renovations, and no school.

Tuesday I found out my best friend had been through emergency surgery. She texted me and said, "So, I was two months pregnant..."

Was.

It broke my heart. I can't put myself in her shoes, I cannot imagine the fear and the sadness. Everything happened so fast, it was so scary. She was bleeding and they got to the doctor, discovered it was an ectopic pregnancy, and had the tube removed in an emergency surgery, apparently minutes away from a ruptured tube. I am so sad for her loss. Thankfully she's recovering well.

On Wednesday another friend, one of the few people I befriended at school, had an aneurism. It's very serious and still touch and go. She's young and always seemed so healthy, such a happy and positive, sweet and relaxed person. She has an 9 month old baby boy and a 4 year old daughter. I am sick with worry and sadness, I hope, I pray, that she recovers.

I had not prayed in a long time, my relationship with God being very complicated. When we married by the church I promised myself I would try for real, not just to get it done. I tried for a while but... It's hard to be a catholic when you are more liberal minded. I keep falling off the wagon. But I've been trying again, lately (mostly because if we are baptizing baby Peanut I don't want to do it just to get it done, I wish I could really believe), and so, here I am.

I pray my friend recovers. Her family needs her so much. The world needs more people like her, good and joyful people. More, not less. Her baby needs her so much. I cannot imagine.

I pray my best friend recovers quickly, that God gives her strenght and love to deal with her loss, that she is able to have more children if she so wishes.

I pray for the sick, for my pregnant friends and family, for my family, for myself. I don't know if it's hypocrisy, to fall back into prayer when things get hard, I suppose it is.

I don't really know what else I can do.