This week has been… eventful. Well, only one day, but I’ve spent the rest of the time just trying to catch up.
I tried a ballet class on Sunday night. It was for beginners, and I thought, hey, I love ballet. What a great way to get into shape maybe. About 50 people showed up for the class and the teacher, bless her heart, said she didn’t want to discourage anyone from trying ballet, so she made an attempt to accommodate everyone. Turns out, I need a beginner beginner’s class, and my ankle and foot injuries from the last couple of years immediately said “oh, I don’t think so bitch”. That many people in the studio, I began to have a panic attack, and I was by the far wall away from the doors, so limping out and escaping without everyone watching me was impossible. I know that you’re going to say “well, who cares if they’re watching? who cares if they see you?”, yah, I know. I was frozen in fear and I ended up just watching the class for the last 20 minutes and trying not to cry. So, no ballet for me. At least not yet.
I did not like what I saw in those studio mirrors. I had such a hard time with even the most basic of movements. I was about as graceful as intoxicated donkey wearing roller skates. Picture that for a second. I used to be so light on my feet. Fit and strong. Now I’m an intoxicated donkey on roller skates. My how the mighty have fallen. It was a wake up call.
On a higher note, Chad had a nice warm bubble bath waiting for me when I came home from the dance class. He heated the bathroom with a little space heater, made it all steamy and lit a eucalyptus Scentsy. Lavender bubble bath and the perfect temperature to wash away my panic and anxiety. Topped it off with a cup of peppermint tea. He sat in the bathroom with me and let me cry and was just… there. I kinda love that guy. He’s pretty great. I’m gonna keep him 🙂
On Monday, Chad and I were about to head out to run some errands, when I thought I could hear water in the walls. It didn’t sound like the people upstairs running their shower or anything like the sounds we were used to (sound proofing ain’t great here). As soon as I called the landlords to report it, the building alarms went off. Aaaaaaand the water started in our apartment. It was running down the walls, leaking from the window frames, filling up the light fixtures (thankfully, they cut power to the building), and gushing from the sprinklers, but not through the sprinkler system… through the ceiling. A burst pipe near the roof filled the upstairs apartment with water (and the tenants were at work) and then began to seep through the ceiling and walls into our apartment. Chad and I spent the next four hours switching buckets under waterfalls spilling from the lights and sprinklers, and changing towels up against the walls, tossing bucketfuls of water over the balcony, because it was just coming in too fast to toss down our drains. Now there are fans and a giant dehumidifier in our rooms, and we’re almost dry. And none of our belongings were seriously damaged, because we frantically rearranged our apartment to save our precious junk 🙂
By the time the building managers got into the apartment upstairs to assess the damage, it was already too late for that apartment. So much damage. I feel very bad for them because they moved just a few months ago from another apartment in our building… one that had flooded on the first floor. They just can’t win.
I snapped right into action, grabbing buckets, towels, and even somehow starting a Facebook live video right in the middle of it all. I documented everything, because I had a feeling it would come in handy down the road. We’re probably going to have to be moved into another apartment at some point. There’s major repairs to be done. It was a tense, anxiety filled day, and I only cried once. And that was because I got a face full of dirty smelly water and it was gross. I deserved to shed a few tears. I smelled like wet drywall. Chad and I didn’t stop until the water finally stopped, after 4 hours of sopping up giant puddles and bailing buckets of water, moving furniture, electronics, and trying to keep Sonny from freaking the hell out. What. A. Day. I find it somewhat amusing that when the shit really hits the fan, when I really should be panicking, I don’t. In times when I should be relaxed and calm, my brain somehow convinces me that my situation is dire. WTF brain?
Yesterday, Chad and I were dead tired. So, we gave ourselves a day to just rest and recover from all of that. Once it was all over, our bodies released some of that tension that we had pent up throughout Monday’s fight, and we were both so so so sore.
Today I got a call from Mental Health, letting me know that I’ve been registered in one of the 10 week programs to help me manage my depression and anxiety. And it starts almost right away. I called back to confirm my space, and I’m looking forward to January 18. The journey continues.