Limbo = how low can you go?

Welcome to limbo. Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are returned to their upright and locked positions. We’ll be circling your final destination for the next… oh, I don’t know MONTH or so.

As I’ve mentioned before, my husband has been interviewing for jobs. This process has felt never-ending at times. For example, here’s what I had to say about this process

In November
In January
In March
In April

Right now, I have no news to report. I have no idea where we’ll land. Seven of the places I mentioned in November are still possibilities. I have no idea when we’ll know. It could be a week, a month, two months.

People keep telling me what an “exciting” time this is. How “rich” it is. Perhaps…

Yet, every time someone says this, I want to punch ‘em. HARD. “Rich” foods are tasty sometimes but they also give you heart disease and high cholesterol. There's something to be said for bland and mild.

Neither my pathology nor I deal well with uncertainty. It helps me to have something to look forward to, something to plan for and keep me slogging through a tough dysphoria-filled day. With no idea of what the future will look like, my mind strains to fill up all that unknown with SOMETHING. And if I let the leash out just a little bit, my mind comes up with all kinds of crazy scenarios. For example, I worry that:

• We won’t like our new town. It’ll be cold or cloudy or less beautiful than the Bay Area.
• We won’t find any good doctors who really understand Borderline Personality Disorder.
• We won’t have a good insurance company that’ll pay for more than a few therapist visits.
• We won’t ever be able to get pregnant and nobody will let a crazy lady like me adopt. If I do have kids, they’ll be just as crazy as I am.
• We won’t make enough friends and we’ll be lonely.
• We won’t be able to afford to buy a home that we like. We’ll always live in a ratty apartment.
• I won't find a job as good and as flexible as the one I have now.
  

But when I write down these fears, I’m struck by how normal they seem. Everyone worries about these things. Nobody knows what the future looks like. Nobody knows if today’s decisions will irrevocably mess up a later opportunity. I’m sure everyone obsesses over big life-changing decisions. So what makes our family different? Maybe nothing.

But maybe… it’s that big looming bogey-man of mental illness over there, lurking in the corner. My health has been stable for a little while now. And it’s scary to think that something we do, some choice we make could upset that. We wouldn’t want to do anything that’ll piss off the monster. It feels safer if we don’t poke it with sticks. It’s better not to take risks. It’s easier to stay put, wrapped up in our little cocoon and never change or challenge anything. It makes you wonder if I should just call myself disabled and live a smaller, quieter life.

Great concept. Still. I’d rather live my life to the fullest.