Monday came like a blow to the head. The explosions at the Boston Marathon sort of sent me in a tail spin.
According to Marilyn, I'm "emotionally sensitive." The number of massive horrific events I have witnessed in my lifetime are really starting to freak me out. I can't even watch the coverage of them, because my emotions are so strong that it causes me physical illness. Just think about what some of us have witnessed. Oklahoma City bombing, 9-11, Columbine, Sandy Hook, and other countless assaults on our country. I am afraid to go places where there are large crowds.
Tuesday, my husband's uncle passed away. He was only in his 50's. He had leukemia and died from complications due to pneumonia. I am afraid of dying. I am so terrified that something will make me or my loved ones sick. I'm not afraid of germs, really. And if you saw my house, you would know that I'm not a neat freak. That's what people call my mom and my gramma. Neat freak.
Last night, Desi and I hashed and rehashed the details over going to the funeral for his uncle. We had to decide if we were all going, or just him. Obviously, I want to go. But the airfare to fly for all of us would be well over $3K. Isn't it sad that the money is an issue? It's a family member's funeral. Oh, that's another thing I'm terrified of. Running out of money. Desi and I have an average amount of debt compared to most Americans. But I worry incessantly about bills and savings, and wasting. I got that training from my parents and grandparents. Awesome.
Today, I am exhausted. I cried and cried last night, overwhelmed with sorrow. That's another issue. I find it so difficult to be happy even at times when I should be happy. It's almost like I sabotage my own happiness so no one else can ruin it for me.
Anyway, I'm tired. Thing 1 forgot her English book at home and she would get detention without it. That's another fear I have. I am constantly worried that I'm going to get in trouble and I am certain I've taught this to my daughters. Which leads to another issue, the nonstop guilt I have over failure as a parent. So I ran the book over to Thing 1's school and dropped it off at the office. I'm not one to rush in and bail my kids out if they deserve a consequence, but I know how much anxiety Thing 1 suffers already over late assignments and following rules.
When I got home, I just wanted to crawl back in bed. There aren't many days when I can do this. Like ever. I climbed into bed to try to get some rest. And then the noise in my head started. My voice. If you could hear what's going on in my head, it would sound like the equivalent of 100 of me in a room together talking at the same time over each other about different things.
I had about 15 different blog posts running in my head. I had the mom-guilt voices scolding me for my obvious lack of parental discretion. I had the "list-maker" making lists of all of things that could and needed to be done before I could rest. I had the insecure mom-wife telling me all of the things I'm not doing well enough.
I took a notebook and scrawled some things down to get them out of my head. By this point in the post, you're probably thinking I am a complete and total LOONY. But that's just it. I am not. I am (from outside appearances) pretty normal. I am the mom who sat next to you at the Christmas program at school. I am the teacher your child adores. I am the woman at the movie theater with her children. I have an I.Q. that's higher than most people. Technically, I'm smarter. Only not emotionally.
See what I did right there? Self-loathing.
I managed to get a little bit of rest. I left the phone downstairs so it wouldn't wake me and I don't know how to set the alarm clock. So I worried about waking up in time to meet my 4 year old, Thing 2 when she came home from school. Did I tell you I worry about being late? Constantly.
Now, I am sitting here looking at the stacks of papers piling up, the dishes, and thinking of all of the things I need to do. And I'm frozen. Overwhelmed. I don't even know where to start. I haven't showered or brushed my teeth in three days. Nice. I just don't have the energy.
And when Thing 2 comes home, she's going to want me to play with her. And I'll tell her, "Just a minute." for the rest of the day. And I will feel like shit because all mothers love to play with their children, right?
And I will plead for silence because the noise in my head is so loud that I can't stand it at times. That's when a good stiff adult beverage comes in handy. I think it's referred to as "self-medicating." I will sit at the table twitching back and forth on social media looking for validation from strangers. Only I will be emotionally detached from the very family I love. It's strange how I can be more sympathetic to strangers than those I know in real life. I just want to be left alone.
I feel like I'm in a really dark place right now. I know it will get brighter again. But I just want to feel better. Normal. And for those of you looking for the comedian and teacher, she'll be back. I'm not sure when. Soon, I hope.
Now. Your turn. Spill it.
It does feel better to get it out of your head.