Stress

Moving is stressful.

Moving during the first two weeks of a new school year is more stressful.

Moving while sick is the topper on the cake.

Life has been very strange the past week and a half.

Let’s back up.

Wednesday, August 28th:

We had woken up to begin our journey home from Spain at 9 AM, where the time difference was six hours ahead. After a mile walk, three trains, many moving sidewalks, three passport checks, and three hours, we were seated in the airport in Madrid, awaiting our first flight. Eight hours later, we arrived.

In Philadelphia.

Which is where we knew we were going, and kept reminding ourselves that the weird, senseless layovers were why our tickets were so cheap ($277 round trip for a week in Spain).

Six hours later, we found out that our forty-five minute flight to Boston had been delayed due to wind and rain, and we wouldn’t be leaving until 10:20 PM, rather than our initially scheduled departure time of 8:55.

By this point, I had slept about two hours from 9 AM Spain time to 9 PM EST, and that’s when the delirium set in.

Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty, and definitely involved a ten minute nap on Jeremy’s shoulder– a nap so needed, so peaceful, so instantaneous, that when it was time to board the flight, the adrenaline from being woken up made me literally start shaking.

The forty-five minute flight went like this:

Sleep, wild turbulence, clutch Jeremy’s hand, keep sleeping, wild turbulence, and so on.

We somehow made it safely to the ground, deplaned, called an Uber, realized the Uber was accidentally driving to my old address (why haven’t I realized that I never changed my home address on Uber in the past year and a half of living at a new place…), and eventually made it home.

We went to sleep at 1 AM, with a total travel time of approximately 22 hours.

August 29th was devoted to unpacking, laundry, and generally trying to stay awake past 4 PM.

We succeeded, barely.

Friday, August 30th, back to reality. I spent the day in my classroom that I had finished probably about 80% of set up prior to the trip. I knew that this day would be my last chance to be in the classroom before we were back at work (thankfully with no students yet) on Tuesday, September 3rd. I was able to do almost all of what I needed, and left a few last things for Tuesday and Wednesday before the kids arrived on Thursday.

Cue the effects of sleep deprivation, physical and emotional exhaustion, and jet lag: time for illness.

Jeremy got it first– some heavy congestion, sinus pressure, general icky feelings. Then, I got it too.

Meanwhile, it was time to pack.

We knew that we would be exhausted, having just finished a very busy vacation, so we scheduled movers for Saturday, September 14th. We had decided to try to do as much as possible on our own over Labor Day Weekend, and boy did we do a lot.

Somehow, despite being sick, we were able to move six carloads of stuff (how do I have so much stuff?) that included the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, closets, bookshelves, chairs, and more.

And then, it was time for school.

Tuesday and Wednesday did not involve children, just meetings and an alarm set for 6:30 AM. Thursday, the kids came.

Now, if you’ve made it this far, you may be wondering why you are still reading.

Because now it’s time for the reality.

My life, in all objective respects, is great.

I have the job of my dreams, I just took an incredible vacation, and I get to move in with the love of my life.

So why am I sobbing inconsolably on the couch because of a difference of opinion on whether we should buy a bed frame for the guest room new, or drive to Watertown to pick one up and save $30?

Why am I having a breakdown after Jeremy asks me what I think about not having our bed on the box spring, and instead putting it directly onto the bed frame so it is lower to the ground?

Why am I unable to catch my breath or stop crying when I think about one conversation we had about if a bookshelf would or would not fit into my closet?

Stress.

And the worst part?

I know that I shouldn’t even be stressed.

When I look at my life, everything has somehow fallen into place. I am truly at a point where I have everything I have ever wanted. When I think about some of the terrible things that people I know are going through, I know that I should be so grateful for my life (which I am), not sobbing hysterically twice in one day.

Here’s the thing, though: feelings come and go. Feelings are unexpected. Feelings are valid.

It’s really hard to talk about unexpected feelings, which is why most people don’t. What’s even harder is when people make it into a competition.

“I barely slept at all last week!” “Just wait until you have kids!” “Just wait until you have to pay a mortgage!” “Just wait until–“

What about my feelings right now? I already am aware that they are unreasonable. It’s even worse when you have the self awareness to recognize that your thoughts are unreasonable to have someone tell you you shouldn’t feel stressed.

We should all support one another in that while our stressors may look different, they are all valid.

We should be able to feel stress and anxiety about our lives even when other people’s stress and anxiety may be worse.

We should be able to talk about it.

For those of you who made it to the end, if you’re feeling stressed or anxious about your life, I see you, and your feelings are valid. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.