Only Human After All

Last week I went on and on about how it can always be worse...at least I didn't see the little bat creature...at least I wasn't in the car when it got hit...I went on and on with my positive thinking speech, when just around the corner, well, my nervous breakdown was lurking.

Wednesday night we had another visitation from one of Satan's minions. Two o'clock in the morning I wake up, look up and see this flying rat soaring around my daughters bedroom. I screamed from UNDER my blanket to my husband who had no idea what he was in for...I woke my daughter up and covered us both up under the blanket and walked toward the door. My husband slammed the door. He figured that he could find the little rat in the morning...well, he was wrong. Knowing it was hiding somewhere in her room sent me into a tailspin. Turns out, it was hiding in between her mattress and box spring. Needless to say, it's a week later and we're STILL NOT SLEEPING IN HER ROOM! The wound is just too fresh.

So, the next night, which was Thursday, we went to sleep at my mother's house because the thought of that rodent was just too much for me. We lay down, we shut off the light...15 minutes later, my phone rings. My husband was taking a shower preparing for work, he heard a noise, looked up and saw ANOTHER BAT flying over head. He slammed it in the bathroom and had to leave for work. Obviously, the ball fell in my court. I called this nice bat man who informed me it would cost $125.00 to come and "remove the bat from the domicile." Good LORD! Well, I had no choice but to pay him. Then we spend the next week waiting for rabies test results. Thankfully, all our bats were healthy, but they are in much more desirable state at this time...DEAD. That's the way I like my bats. DEAD.

Well, to add insult to injury...we called another "bat removal specialist" and he charged $82.00 to come to the house to look around. He tried to look professional as he looked around the outside of the house. He kept saying how steep the roof was. I knew that was a bad sign. Steep roofs always add price to estimates. He checked the basement. No signs of life there. He checked the attic...ahhh...now here's the kicker. "I see some bat turds up there." I reply, "Did you find any BATS?" He replies, "Well, no, but they could be ANYWHERE." I reply, "It's a fairly simple attic. I think you would see where they are sleeping." He replies, "They've GOT to be up there." I reply, "Well, give me an estimate." So, he writes, and thinks and scratches his head, then reiterates how steep the roof is...then hands us an estimate for $2,100.00! EGADS! We ask, "So, what specifically will you be doing for $2,100.00?" He replies, "Well, I won't know till I get up there and look around." I reply, "Isn't that why you came here today and charged us $82.00?" "Well," he replies, "I don't know how many areas we'll have to plug up, how many one way doors we'll have to install. It all depends." Well, we told him we'd get back to him. Yea, right. It's a crime how people try to take advantage of your fears. Ridiculous!

So, I am still sleeping downstairs on the couch, despite the fact that there have been no sightings for a week. I can't bring myself to do it yet. All in good time, I suppose. My biggest worry about this whole thing isn't even really the bats themselves, it is my response to them. I spent most of Friday crying, and it was very hard for me to stop. I was worried about the possibility of rabies shots. I was worried that there would be more to come. I was just scared, immobile...and it felt just like I was falling into darkness. I don't like feeling like that. I'm supposed to be the person who lifts people out of the darkness. I'm supposed to be the one who handles things....well, that's how I perceive myself at least. It bothered me that I could crumble so quickly, so darkly. Are we all just a few bad days away from depression? If I can't handle a few bats in the house, how will I be able to handle a real catastrophe? When the time comes for a real crisis, will I be able to survive it? I want to believe that I could.

Maybe I'm being too hard on myself. I mean, on Saturday morning, I had my last good cry, prayed for strength and a few minutes later I was washing dishes and getting ready to go for coffee. I managed to buck up and have a nice weekend, despite my fears. I pulled myself together, after a fashion. Maybe it's ok to have a mini break down just to get it all out. Maybe a good cry can be helpful, as long as you are able to stop, regroup and carry on. I am always telling people not to be too hard on themselves, well, I suppose the same applies to me.

I am only human after all.