Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Dragging on Like the Dickins

If you've been reading my posts right along, you know that we are in the middle of being relocated by our county so they can widen the road in front of our house. Apparently, the new road will go through our living room, so it's a good idea for us to get out of the way. I have made my peace with this process, and am actually excited about moving to the new house we've chosen, so now my only concern is really that we GET ON WITH IT ALREADY.

Our new place, which looks like this:

is in a neighborhood, which our current home is not. This is the first time we've lived on a main road, and I haven't really minded it all that much. We have minimal, albeit friendly, interactions with our neighbors, which is OK by me, and because our home is brick, the sound of the traffic isn't all that loud. Besides, while it's a main road by this town's standards, it is by no means a main road by the standards of the county we lived in before this. Frankly, I can see cows from my upstairs windows. So, it's a rural main road, busy for this part of the state. The upside of this has been that when I put out seasonal decor, like Santa and reindeer on the roof, people actually see them, and all my kids' friends love to drive by our house. My gardening, which went swimmingly last year, is appreciated by all who stop at the light on the corner. We have almost no front yard, which is fine with me because I wouldn't let the kids play in the front without me, anyway, and all my flowers are safe from soccer balls, bats, and pogo sticks.

Anyway, we were supposed to be meeting with the county reps tomorrow afternoon to discuss their relocation offer to us, but this afternoon I had a surprise visit by yet another inspector who was supposed to be validating the work done by the first one, OVER THREE WEEKS AGO. Seriously, this is dragging on longer than
Great Expectations (which I submit is the most gawd-awful book ever written)!!! I have a feeling he wasn't going to be as generous as the first guy, either, which was disheartening. He wouldn't talk about what the other guy had said the place was worth, and actually claimed that he didn't know, immediately following that statement by saying that he had to talk to the other guy about a few things. So, I told him that that meant that he really did know what the other guy's report said, he just didn't know what the final analysis would be. He stared at me, and finally said, no. Argh. He also informed me that he didn't think that the county folks would be here tomorrow, and sure enough, about a half hour after he left, Frank the County Guy called and said that they needed more time, could they come out Tuesday morning? ARGH!!!!

At this point, I'm beginning to get stressed out again. I had been doing pretty well, staying calm and not thinking about it hardly at all, but now, boy, I'm starting to freak a little. I actually had a glass of wine (read: swigged vino from a juice glass - THAT'S class, my friends) while I was cooking dinner, and that helped me somewhat. I hate that no matter what I do, another unseen person is having conversations about my family's most basic needs - housing and finances - and I'm not involved in the process. I have to sit here quietly and wait. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I'm NOT a patient person. I do much better when I'm in motion. Sitting passively by is SO not my thing!

This entire experience is driving my OCD bananas. I don't have the hand-washing kind of OCD, but the mental kind, where I worry and stress about things repeatedly. Mostly, it manifests itself by my freaking out about somehow hurting the kids - not my WANTING to hurt them, but being terrified that somehow I WILL. I did see a doctor about it, years ago when it got really bad - coincidentally when Josie started kindergarten, and I was most worried about her safety and well-being - and he said that that's a classic OCD symptom. I take medication for it, and generally go about my life just fine, but when I get really stressed out, it breaks through the medication. Let me tell you, that part of my brain is on super, massive, monster-truck overdrive.

I was soooo looking forward to having that meeting tomorrow, finding out what they're offering, and being able to (hopefully) relax (as long as they don't try to screw us, which, let's face it, is what I'm REALLY worried about). Now, just for fun, they'll be coming here during the week my mother will be here (more on that tomorrow), and the day before DH leaves for a conference for four days, so it BETTER BE GOOD when they get here! Otherwise, I'll be trapped here alone with my mother, and Patrick, who is off all next week, freaking out about bad news to boot. I can't swear which one of us would get voted off the island in that case, but smart money would probably go for the old lady.


desperate housewife said...

Sorry the house thing is still up in the air- it'd be driving me nuts, too.
I SO APPRECIATED what you said about your OCD and specifically its manifestation about worrying that you'll somehow hurt your kids. I went through this exact same thing a few months ago, and finally did talk to some people about it (not professionals, but an online friend who has experience with anxiety and OCD, and also friends and family.) It helped so much just to express this part of myself which seemed so shameful and abnormal. I was able to get through it and am currently not experiencing any of those symptoms, but I had to accept that it's not an embarassing thing, and that if it ever feels like it's controlling my mind, I HAVE to go talk to a doctor instead of just becoming more afraid of it.

Astarte said...

Thanks for posting about this! It's always good (in a bad way, I guess) to hear about other people having the same problem. I've noticed it getting steadily worse in the past few days, probably because our appointment with the county is coming up, as is the visit from my mother. I've been really obsessing about the kids' safety lately, which is very unusual for me, and also for DH, who is flying to Vancouver this week. I know by the end of next week, when everything is over, I'll feel a lot better, and really that's the only thing that's keeping me from flying over to the doctor and begging for more drugs. I had been really, really scared to talk about it at first, because I was afraid that the doctor would call someone to take the kids away from me, so I didn't say anything for a long, long time. When I finally did, the doctor was SO unfazed, and wanted to know why I hadn't said anything earlier! I think that a lot more people suffer from this than we think, and are all afraid to say anything.

Bring A. Torch said...

I have this kind of OCD, too. I suspect this is why it takes me so freaking long to write emails and blog entries (and blog comments, for that matter): I read stuff so many times before I hit the button that I end up memorizing it. Anyway, thank you for discussing this so openly.