Guilty - To be or Not to be
There are many things I struggle with in life. But don't we all. One of my biggest struggles right now is guilt. To explain I must first give a few details from my past.
My father went to work every day Monday thru Friday. My mother was a stay-at-home mom starting from the time I was a year old. As a child I had chronic health problems. After I spent my first birthday in an oxygen tent in the hospital and the doctors told my mom I had cystic fibrosis (by the way, thankfully I did not) my parents made the choice for mom to stay home instead of work out of the house.
Looking back I realize we often didn't have much, few extras but mom and dad somehow managed to provide everything we needed. Part of that was due to mom deciding to grow a garden. My parents also “went in” on the cost of raising cows, chickens, and pigs with my aunts and uncles. At slaughter time we all split the meat. Add in the fact that my dad and brothers hunted wild game as well, anything from rabbits to deer. It was a simple life, but we were happy for the most part and my health improved.
Throughout my life from high school through marriage and kids I worked. Everything from house cleaning, transcription, and 20 years in the medical field. There was no option to do otherwise. But part of me always looked back to my early childhood with fondness, the life my parents created decades ago. I wanted a similar life, to be the stay-at-home wife cooking, cleaning, gardening, and taking care of the house and family. I've always said I should have been born into a different era.
Now I find myself in a place in life where I do have the option to stay home. Allen works, and works hard. He's gone over the road for months at a time. For a while I road on the truck with him getting to explore this great country. But even the most loving of relationships need more space than 84sqft and 24/7 togetherness. So we settled on making a home and life in the Las Vegas, Nevada area. I know, I know, a city in the desert isn't exactly conducive to country living, but I love the climate. After four decades in the coastal deep south I needed a break from the stifling humidity.
As I said, Allen works and works hard. We are in a situation where I don't HAVE to work. Sure we can always do better, earn more, be better off. But life is about simple things, not keeping up with the Jones's. He tells me all the time to enjoy being home, that I don't have to work, that the man is supposed to take care of his woman. Of course, that's how life was for many generations before us. But I can't seem to shake the guilt.
Maybe it is because we are in an apartment and not a house. A small apartment where I can't garden or decorate. Where I have limited counter space and no way to do things like canning, fermenting, dehydrating because I have no storage space for said projects. No space to sew. No space to attempt to garden or have a greenhouse. A small apartment that takes an hour at the most to deep clean. My days are filled with reading, planning for when we get a house, and well... just trying to find something to keep me occupied without going out and spending lots of money. Let's face it, there is ALWAYS something to do, see, or buy in a place like Las Vegas. But with little storage space and saving for when we can find land or a house I try limit any excess expenditures.
Twenty years of medical does me little good in a state that doesn't recognize my training from back east. Any job I could likely find would be entry level, unskilled at best. Any thing with lots of phones or interaction with lots of people is an absolute no due to my high level of general anxiety, agoraphobia, and BPD. Part of me feels like I am making excuses. Part me says I should stop worrying and just enjoy life.