So the crappy apartment added a lake to the decor on Tuesday morning. This would be the third water feature in the two apartments I have rented within the complex. The second one in this current residence.
So my dad called to check on the repairs. Apparently his engineer take and what was done do not match up. Go figure, so I’m anticipating another lake at some point. But in the conversation I ended up launching into my impassioned why can humans just treat each other with the respect and dignity then business would treat people with respect and dignity like paying the entire move cost when the apartment become moldy or supplying apartments that don’t have leaks that get “fixed” and then re appear again in a year.
After this thought release my Dad said I should listen to the Pope and for Lent I should give up worrying. SERIOUSLY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Because giving up worrying is so easy for me a person who suffers from anxiety and depression. I mean anxiety is in essence worry, incapacitating, unavoidable anxiety. Ya know never mind the fact that I’ve attempted to take my life twice before I became pregnant (my little man is my angel) and let’s not forget the almost got committed when I first moved back and the stress became to much.
How do I help them understand? Can I? Will they?
I know this is hard. So many people see me when I’ve got the fake sun beaming bright or at work where the sun always shinning naturally (after all I have the cutest students on the planet who always tell me they love me and are so funny). But when I’m stressed or alone life is dark and spirals away. So no dad giving up worry is like asking me to grow an extra limb, possibly scientifically doable but near impossible.