"It will put hair on your chest!"
Zero posts means I'm having a bad week.
One or more posts per week means I'm havine a mega, really super, overboard shitty week.
They happen to everyone. But when they happen to me, I think it's because I'm not strong enough to be an expatriate, that I should never have left Canada, that I should probably go home, that I shouldn't have been married because I'm too dramatic, that things will probably end up to be so bad that I'll end up living in my parents' basement (that neither one of them have), eating Beef-a-roni and eating ice cream from a four litre bucket (I've never tried Beef-a-roni), weighing 150kg, watching re-runs of the Golden Girls while bleaching my moustache (which is currently naturally blonde, but since this is the worst case scenario, I have know grown dark, thick facial hair).
I know I have a lot going on. I know that I don't adapt well to change (although I think that can be said for the general population), I am perhaps too hard on myself sometimes, and oh, right, I have this WORRYING thing that resembles something from that movie with Segourney Weiver about aliens (I think it may even be called, Aliens) that jumps out of my stomach and takes over my world.
A few years ago (okay...like ten), I didn't know how to handle change and stress. I was going through a bit of a rough patch. A family member wasn't speaking to me (and if we spoke it was screaming/yelling/phone conversations ended by slamming down the phone), my boyfriend of three years dumped me via email on APRIL FOOL's DAY (it was uh...a surprise..), I was working a job where I had to travel to small, tiny, little towns, and had to wear high heels and pantyhose (because back then, dress pants for anyone six feet tall were only available at an expensive store called "Tall Girl" and so I wore dress skirts ALL YEAR ROUND. Now a lot of affordable stores offer "tall" and "extra tall" pants), and my boss yelled/screamed/slammed her door if I made a mistake (once on Christmas Eve Day at 11:30 am), and I had a mountain of student loans and maxed out credit card (no, cancel that, I didn't even have a credit card). All of that Disneyland of wonderfulness....lead me to a near breaking point. A bad day became a bad week and a bad week became a bad month and a bad month became a bad year... until I went to a shrink and learned about cognitive behaviour therapy which basically showed me how to deal with things in a way where....I didn't feel like I was going to lose my marbles (which I may have dropped, but never lost!)
What I'm trying to say is, it helped me learn how to deal with things in a healthier way. But I still tend to see things as black and white. So some days, or some weeks, or some ENTIRE ROTATIONS when things are a little rough, I think I'm one step away from being the frazzled (ok, even more frazzled), unhappy, anxious, mess I was ten years ago. Which isn't the case. It means that I have a frazzled rotation. It means that I have bad days, short tempers, fights with my husband, fights with my co-workers, worry a bit more (yes, it's possible), act a little bit crazier (again, it's possible), and that I fall asleep a lot easier on the plane leaving Madagascar and I'll sleep the entire way and probably go to bed at 8pm for the first few (or five) nights.
But the "badness" of it all, isn't how it was like before. I talk about how "horrible" this rotation is, but I still laugh, joke, have funny moments....In fact this week I think I had a super hilarious week where I laughed A LOT. SO I'm far from "a mess". I'm far from losing (or dropping) my marbles.
When the HELL am I going to just learn that it's OKAY to be in a bad mood and it's OKAY to have a bad week and it's OKAY to be a little (or a lot) stressed. It's even MORE okay, when I'm stressed out AND still having a handful of fun moments thrown into the mix. I wish that was as easy as taking a pill. But if it was, I'm sure that in a year, or three years, or ten years, I won't have these "character building" memories to look back on. What. ever.