Looking back on it, this week presented as a trust exercise. (Which would have been useful information to have at the beginning of the week rather than the end.)
Sunday, after a call on his way over, my landlord showed my house to a very polite couple. They declined the house and I trusted that to be the final word. They called Thursday, saying they'd changed their minds. And would it be possible for me to be out in 2 weeks?
Monday, an impressively honest conversation with my boss brought the suggestion I find another position by the end of the month. As I'm still a very ignorant stranger in an equally strange land, I trusted the advice and moved on it. Quickly.
Tuesday, a nurse my mom trusted told her I couldn't push her wheelchair back to her room unless I was willing to change her and put her to bed. Thinking maybe there was a change in policy, I asked another nurse, and was told to tell the facility administrator. Who would be back Thursday.
Wednesday, I started therapy with a new counselor. We talked about Mom, the move, all the events since Labor Day. After waiting far too long, I mentioned my dad was a bipolar schizophrenic who self-medicated with alcohol and God. No trust challenges there. At. All.
Thursday, met with DHS again to update Mom's case. They made a copy of a sizable check they recommended go to Mom's nursing home invoice, and I said I'd drive to Norman (again) to close my checking account and open another with the same bank.
Then I went to the nursing home where my mom lives and had a conversation about the formerly trusted nurse. The nurse manager said she would resolve the issue.
I received the phone call telling me I needed to move on the way back to the office. Then I put in 4 more hours.
After work and after setting up safe calls (because I trust God, but He trusts me not to be an idiot), I checked out two possible houses on opposing ends of town. After having a challenging conversation with someone I'd like to keep as a friend. Even if he was an engaged person making inappropriate comments.
Then I went to the nursing home where my mom lives and had a conversation about the formerly trusted nurse. The nurse manager said she would resolve the issue.
I received the phone call telling me I needed to move on the way back to the office. Then I put in 4 more hours.
After work and after setting up safe calls (because I trust God, but He trusts me not to be an idiot), I checked out two possible houses on opposing ends of town. After having a challenging conversation with someone I'd like to keep as a friend. Even if he was an engaged person making inappropriate comments.
Today, I drew a box and the artist watching handed me an art competition application. And I sunk into the dark box inside my head, the mean, angry voices echoing how if I did something well this time, it would be expected again. And again.
And wouldn't be sad if I couldn't produce something of worth on a consistent basis? After all, isn't that how an artist is defined? I shouldn't really claim the label of artist if I can't follow through with it; that doesn't make me an artist. It makes me a liar.
Trust me to not trust me; to put more weight in a voice belonging to someone long gone rather than a person placing an opportunity (literally) in my hands.
Trust me not to trust. But trust, with hope and time, that to change.
And wouldn't be sad if I couldn't produce something of worth on a consistent basis? After all, isn't that how an artist is defined? I shouldn't really claim the label of artist if I can't follow through with it; that doesn't make me an artist. It makes me a liar.
Trust me to not trust me; to put more weight in a voice belonging to someone long gone rather than a person placing an opportunity (literally) in my hands.
Trust me not to trust. But trust, with hope and time, that to change.
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