Thursday, April 10, 2014

I Hate Hope's Guts


Pol·ly·an·na

 
 [pol-ee-an-uh] 
noun
1.
an excessively or blindly optimistic person.
adjective
2.
often lowercase ) . Also, Pol·ly·an·na·ish. unreasonably orillogically optimistic
Origin: 
 from the name of the child heroine created by Eleanor Porter (1868–1920), American writer


I served as Secretary, 1st Counselor and 2nd Counselor for years with a beloved friend and Relief Society President at church.  She often referred to me as Pollyanna.

I can't be a "Pollyanna" all the time. Sometimes I hate hope's guts.  

The side-effect of being hopeful for so long and telling yourself things will work out after every stinking disappointment  is a pure, fiery, hatred of hope and of yourself for hoping.

Why hope when all it does is make you miserable?  Why hope when every hope you have is dashed upon the rocks?  Why hope when your tearful pleas and fervent prayers feel as if they go not just unanswered but unacknowledged?

Let me tell you a little about my hopes... 

#1. I hope to obey the commandment to leave father and mother and cleave unto my husband.  Yet, it seems, no matter the level of education, the amount of trying, applying or interviewing, there is not a full time job available to make this move possible. It has been 5 years.

#2. I hope to obey the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth.  Yet it seems, no matter the amount of doctor's visits, the amount of trying, praying or fasting, there is not a baby in our future.  And don't you dare tell me we should "just adopt" because adoption takes money (see hope #1 above and know we don't have enough money for that).  Yes, even through the church it takes LOTS of money.  And County adoption takes a designated room in your house prepared for the "baby" and we live with my father and do not have a extra room to be a designated room for county workers to inspect.  It has been 14 years.

So please excuse me as I take a moment to weep and wail and gnash my teeth when I hear that the most recent job interview was a bust.  Please excuse me as I die a little inside as person after person says, "Don't worry, it will all work out.  He will get a job soon."  I've heard that line before, for 14 years.  "Don't worry, it will happen.  You will have a baby soon."  And each time it is said aloud it get a little less believable.  

Our family joke is "We don't get blessings, we get trials."  Well who's laughing now?  Not me.

But, don't worry, I'm sure I will be back to my old, cheerful, faithful, hopeful self soon. Because the truth is, I don't know how to be anything else.  

I am Pollyanna.




1 comment:

Sharee and Arthur said...

Sometimes I need to feel angry. You don't want to stay angry forever, but sometimes, for awhile, you just need to be angry. Give yourself that time. And then in a little while you can start to heal and move on, because we all know it's not good to be angry for too long. But I think it's okay to be there for a little while before you resume being Pollyanna. Pollyanna is better than being angry, but give yourself some time.
I'm sorry. And I love you guys. And I'm glad you were able to vent about your feelings.