Long, long ago, I wrote about traveling through a tunnel with no light at the end of it. I realized this is what it’s like to have no hope.
There is a similar, but very different problem I’ve been experiencing recently: I see the light, but I don’t feel like anything I do gets any closer to it.
This conclusion is objectively false, because I am closer to the light. But it doesn’t feel like it because of the state of anxiety I am in.
I feel as though I have been living in a constant low-grade anxiety attack for almost a year.
It started when we lived at Jordan’s brother’s house for three months (about 2 months longer than expected), and let off a bit while we got things settled on our own property, but then kicked up again when we realized this life isn’t for us.
We aren’t farmers (I’m barely a gardener), and I can’t handle the debt-load we took on.
So where does that leave me?
In a constant low grade anxiety attack.
Until (at some nebulous point in the future) we are able to finish the work that needs to be finished and we list the house and land.