It's hard for me to admit something is wrong. I like having people think that I have my life together, so I struggled with the concept of this post. In the end, I started this to show people what life is actually like for someone who doesn't get to do the normal things that people take from granted. And granted, there are some parts of my life that people would gladly switch out for their problems. But this is my life, and what's mine is mine, and what's yours is yours. Like it or not.
If you haven't heard, moving is stressful. Packing some your stuff, giving some (in our case most) of stuff away, and selling the rest. I've lived in this house for sixteen years, since I was seven. And tonight is the last night I will ever spend in it. It's very strange. The movers come tomorrow, and of course tonight is the time I choose to throw a fit. I like being in control. In fact, I would do everything in my life myself if I could. But there are just things that I can't do. Some things I can't do are normal, like I don't know how to re-key the locks in the new house so we called a locksmith. Some things... aren't so normal. I can't lift any of my own boxes. I have to rest constantly. If I go up the stairs or stand up too quickly I can't breathe. Those things are a little harder to give up. I should be able to do them. It's something I haven't been able to deal with and something I'm not sure I'll ever be able to deal with. I'm not well adjusted apparently.
But in the end, a little sleep solves a lot of problems. And while it's not likely that I'll get a lot, maybe I'll get just what I need.
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