We’re going to put our house in the market this year. I’ve mentioned it a time or two. It’s a LOT of work. And change. And a lot of unknowns.
- Will someone actually want our house?
- How will we swing school/selling/buying/dogs all at the same time?
- Will we be able to find a home that
- Works for our needs?
- Is where we want it to be?
- Is affordable?
I’m nervous. And a little daunted by all that needs to be done in our home, not to mention all the packing and going through of STUFF (because we have a lot of it).
And what do I do when life becomes somewhat difficult for me to cope with because I’m stressed and overwhelmed?
Yes, folks, let’s hear it for my addiction.
I didn’t want to “be good”. I didn’t want to stop. Easter morning, I grabbed my phone and MADE MYSELF text my accountability partner and tell her. Which I hadn’t done for more than two weeks before because if I did, I knew I would have to stop. And it felt too good to wallow in it.
Easter is about renewal, resurrection, Jesus’ winning over death and sin and CRAP. Our awful, ugly CRAP.
I deleted apps off the phone, deleted books that I had downloaded–that’s the mostly-easy part. (yeah, mostly because it’s just so darn comfy in my addiction and I really DON’T want to delete them). But the brain, well….that crap is now in there. Some of it will be forgotten. Some will, unfortunately, stay there forever.
Sigh. No, really, I just sighed. I texted my AP with “Will I ever stop struggling with this? Will I ever stop running to it when life gets difficult?” With more than 22 years in recovery, one would hope it would be easier. But no, no it’s not.
“How deep the Father’s love for us, how vast beyond all measure. That He should give His only Son, to make a wretch His treasure.”