Digging It Out

There’s nothing worse than feeling anxious and deciding to call your shrink, and then learning that she went back to teaching and doesn’t work there anymore.

Well okay – if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my shrink, it’s that there are worse things. But it still sucks. I liked her so much, and one visit every 6 months was all I needed to stay on track. I’ll miss her.

It’s stressful being around my parents every day and seeing exactly what they have to go through all of the time. It’s starting to wear on me a bit (hence, the shrink), but for the most part I’m diving into all of the physical labor and that keeps me sane. I’m handling this like a dude.

I’ve already put in 6 hours of work and I’ve only been there for 2 days. I’m confident that I can do all of this in half of the time that I have. And while I’m sure I could call in a few friends and knock out some of these projects in a day, I feel like it’s important for me to do most of this on my own.

Every since my dad got really sick and I started helping them a lot, people always remark that I’m such a good daughter. But the truth is, I was a really shitty daughter for a very long time. I wasn’t the worst and I was probably a typical teen, but I was sleep deprived, cranky and anxious, and I took that out on them daily. I was also messy and destructive and hung out with creeps. I spent a lot of their money. I got bad grades. I got in trouble a lot and now that I’m an adult, I can see how that reflected poorly on them and caused a lot of embarassment.

So how cool is it that I can go back to their house – not as a failure, but as a favor – and try to rectify that? Clean up the mess I made, one trashcan at a time. Make up for 15 years of crappy yardwork in four months. Put up with their stress and their bad moods and be the patient, forgiving one for once. Do their dishes. Fold their laundry. Run their errands. It doesn’t make me feel like a good daughter, it makes me feel like I’m being the daughter they deserved all along. So for me, the sweat and the bruises and the muscle aches are just a part of it. And I love every second.

However, I’m going to smell a little bit like basement for the next four months. It’s gross. I know. I’m sorry.

Justin wants to go see Toy Story 3 tomorrow night. However, in the next few weeks I’ll be throwing away all of my basement-smelling stuffed animals – plus I am PMSing – and from what I’ve heard about the movie, the combination of the three would make me a suicide risk.

Either way, you’ll probably be hearing more about my stuffed animals soon. Ugh. I take back what I said about the shrink; this part is the worst. I should probably get it over with sooner than later.