Do, Don't Stew

My kids are both at Scout camp all week this week, which means that I am alone in a very empty house all week. Not all day, though; this week is also Vacation Bible School at my church, which means I am there from 8am until sometime after noon every day. But the rest of the afternoons and evenings, I am alone. 

I need to keep busy. 

If I don't have something to do, I tend to just sit and let my mind wander. Which means I think about all the things I need to do; all the scary, complicated, involved life details that I need to deal with, the stuff that I'm not good at. In short, I stew.

Stewing is bad. Stewing leads to fretting, and fretting leads to panicking. So it's better for me to keep busy. Instead of stewing, I need to be doing. 

I still have a lot of red tape to deal with that I can't even start until I get my husband's final death certificate, but there are a lot of small projects that I can start or even finish that give me a lot of satisfaction. 

Honestly, I have a tendency to avoid tasks I don't want to do by doing less important tasks. And that isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes I'll force myself to do one hard task, then I reward myself by doing something easy but satisfying. If I call the bank, then I'll mow the back lawn. If I fill out that form, I'll start repainting the porch railing. If I make that dreaded phone call, I'll spend an hour researching how to clean the hot tub. 

Doing things (not just anything, but certain things) makes me feel better. Doing things makes me feel in control. Doing things makes me feel like I'm making progress. Doing things makes me forget how much I miss the person who used to do those things for me. Doing things helps me forget, if only for a moment. 

I appreciate all the help that I've been offered. And sometimes, I'm glad to accept it. It would have taken me literally weeks to do all the weeding and cleanup of my front garden that the Scouts did for me last week. I would have spent hours trying to figure out how to fix the screen door that my brother-in-law repaired in 15 minutes. I've already spent several hours trying to open my husband's Outlook account, which will probably take a techie friend 5 minutes to solve. But when I can do something, I need to do it. I need to prove to myself that I am capable, that I am competent, that I CAN DO THIS. 

When I can do it, I need to do it. Even if it takes me 20 times as long as someone else. Even if it makes me cry and scream and feel frustrated and stupid. ESPECIALLY if it makes me cry and scream and feel frustrated and stupid. If I can finally do it, even after that, I get a feeling of accomplishment that gives me the sense that I really can do this. 

Because sometimes....I don't think I can. Sometimes...I'm afraid that I'll fail. That I'll let my kids down. That they'll miss out on something and it's all my fault. Widowhood is the ultimate imposter syndrome. I wasn't supposed to do this job by myself. I'm not qualified to do this job by myself. I'm terrible at doing this job by myself. 

And yet. 

And yet, I will do it. Because I have to do it. And if I keep doing things, even the unimportant things, even the second-tier things, I'm making progress. Eventually, I'll feel able to do the big, scary things. Because I keep doing, not stewing. 

Every job completed, however small, means progress. Every success, however minor, gets me closer to the goal. The goal of independence. The goal of facing life solo. 

I don't want it to be the goal. But it is. I can't change that. I can only conquer it. 

And I will. By doing, not stewing.