A couple of people suggested I might be overreacting. It won't cost that much, even if you need a new one. It's not a big deal to get it replaced. Welcome to being a home owner. Water heaters don't last forever. Don't worry about it. All very good valid points. Was I overreacting? Probably.
Here's the thing. I get that the water heater isn't a big deal. In fact, out of all the things you need to replace as a home owner, its on the cheaper end of the scale. The water heater was, however, the straw that just about broke this camel's back.
The five most stressful things one can go through in life are as follows (in no particular order):
- Death of someone close to you
- Moving
- Divorce/separation
- Major illness (you or someone close to you)
- Job loss
Now I don't want to me a negative Nelly here or seem like a wimp, but in the last year and a half, I've managed to cover three of those, one of those three twice (moving). Add in an additional relationship break up, buying a home (which is a different stressor than moving), and a fairly high pressure job, and sometimes my plate feels a little more than full. Sure, there have been some good things happen in the same time period, but the last couple of years have been a bit more of a load for me to carry, and I've done 95% of it on my own.
So was I really reacting to the water heater? No.
Maybe it was the fact that this was the first house related repair I've ever had to handle on my own in my life, something that has stressed me out in the past even when I've had the help of a partner. Maybe its because sometimes, owning a house by yourself is financially scary. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't had time to buy a step ladder to change a lightbulb in my kitchen in the last month. Maybe it's the fact that I'm trying to juggle having four awesome pets, a house, a fun but demanding job and a social life.
Maybe it was the fact that a month ago my mom had pretty much the most difficult surgery a person can go through, a million miles away. And that the surgeon found cancer. Small, tiny pancreatic tumour, but still cancer. And maybe it's because last week she started 6 months of chemo. Which I am probably not supposed to talk about. Actually I'm not.
When people become critically ill, there are suddenly all kinds of rules. What you are supposed to think, talk about, not talk about, ask, feel, do, ignore, pay attention to. What you are supposed to understand, say, not say, wish, hop, suggest, believe and ask. You don't get to write any of these rules and you can't have an opinion on them. You certainly don't get a copy of the rule book but everyone and their donkey will tell you what they think the rules in the situation are. Most mean well - they are trying to help or want to control a situation they can't control. The rules are presented in an absolute way, leaving no room for discussion or protest or regard to your feelings.
I first learned about these "rules" of how everything is supposed to be in the 90's when my Dad was first sick and eventually terminally ill. I deluded myself into thinking that if you've been through something like this once, it will somehow be easier in the horrible event you need to do it again. Turns out that's NOT a rule. It isn't easier the second time around, in fact I might argue that its more difficult because you know where things COULD go. And while my mom could be fine, she might not be. And I'm not supposed to talk about that either.
I was recently watching a Sex in the City re-run. Samantha has cancer and attempts to bring up her fears with Carrie. Carrie wants to be cheerful and supportive, and keeps insisting all will be fine. That everything will turn out. After a little back and forth, Sam says "Carrie, please. Let me talk about what I'm afraid of. Please?".
That. That is what I'd like to do. Without advice or solutions or rules or a lecture.
So yes, I overreacted about a water heater. But it had nothing to do with the water heater. It had everything to do with everything else. And sometimes that's just the way life goes.
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