When we were kids growing up in Colorado, at least once a year we'd have reason to drive through the Eisenhower Tunnel, which passes under the Continental Divide in the Rocky Mountains. It's the longest mountain tunnel in the world (if I can remember correctly), around 1.75 miles long. If you've ever had cause to drive to/from Denver to one of the major ski resorts, you've likely driven through it. Something about going through the Eisenhower Tunnel was and is always exciting for me. The entrance to it doesn't look like much, and the tunnel itself is pretty boring, but as kids we always looked forward to driving through it, maybe because it literally feels like the entrance to the "real" mountains - often it would be clear and dry on one side, and when we'd come through the other side less than 10 minutes later it would be blizzard-like snow conditions. One game that we played every time we drove through the tunnel was to see who could hold their breath through the whole thing. I'm not sure if anyone ever won or was really able to do it, or how long it even takes to drive the tunnel. I do remember, however, that there was always a point in the game where you started to see light around the bend, where you knew that the end was somewhere down there, but because you couldn't actually see the exit and didn't really know how far away it was, you started to question if you were going to be able to make it this time. Was the end of the tunnel just around the corner, or another mile away? Would you pass out trying to make it, or be the winner?
That's how I feel in my life right now. You guys, I'm struggling. That's the only way I can put it. I don't want to bore everyone with my daily angst, so my posts of late have been what I call "blog lite" or "cheater" posts - heavy on pictures and captions, lite on any real content. It's not that there's any one giant horrific thing that's happened, it's more a cumulative effect of alot of big and small sucky things that once they're added up are starting to drag me down. I really, really want this to be the Best Year Ever...but it's not even close. It's actually turning out to be one of the Worst Years Ever. Yes, we continue to be blessed with health and beautiful children and a roof over our heads and food to eat. I know it could be worse, okay? But mentally and emotionally, I'm feeling kind of spent. Important people have passed away. Other important people have been hospitalized and sick. People around us have been getting divorced left and right. The economy is killing our community and what was a trickle-down effect on TH and I has begun to directly affect us. My career is in a complete shambles right now, to the point where I've been questioning whether I even want to stay in this profession that I spent 10 years of school and over $100,000 training for. But worst of all, I've been feeling...disappointed in people. I don't know if my expectations are too high, but they seem reasonable to me. Honesty. Integrity. Compassion. Caring. Unselfishness. Am I asking for too much? So many people that I expected more from are falling short, and it's starting to change my entire view of what the world is really like, which bothers me.
The family is still together and going strong, which is really the only thing that matters in the end. TH and I are people of faith and we truly believe that this is all happening for a reason. But right now, we're squarely in the tunnel. We can't see the entrance anymore, and we're holding our breath, hoping we can make it. We can see the light starting to seep in around the edges, and we know that we'll be coming out on the other side soon, but we don't know exactly how far it is, if it's just around the bend or another mile away. Will the weather be the same, or will it be a blizzard with zero visibility? I wish I could tell you. All I know is, we are definitely in the real mountains...
I am a thirtysomething wife to a fantastic husband (TH), mom to rambunctious baby genius J, and a veterinarian in a constant state of "practicing" medicine. We live in Las Vegas but our history is in Colorado, where we hope to live again someday.