can’t choose a title.

woman looking at sea while sitting on beach

My brain is in a million places and in response to that anxiety it is also avoiding everything possible. A mental health paradox I suppose. I couldn’t decide on what to call this post though some examples would be:

  1. unhealthy avoidance
  2. 1 million mental pounds
  3. everything feels overwhelming
  4. FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK

So I avoided choosing and just called it what it is.

To start, I have a million fun posts to catch up on. Vacation, stores, life, kids, etc. but I can’t right now. Someday soon, I hope. For now, I want to confess that I’m struggling in general. I’m not fine. I will be fine, I’m not in danger and I’m seeking help and support- which also feels overwhelming but at least I didn’t avoid that part. Gold star for me.

Recently, the weight of everything feels as though it’s quadrupled. In my mind and body, at least.

Before vacation I asked my family for help- you know, like clean up after yourselves. Unload the dishes if you take a clean cup out of the dishwasher. Set a reminder on your phone to take out the trash so I don’t have to be your reminder (because having to remember for you is still work for me)., etc. While they were all extremely on board and apologetic, the garbage still hasn’t gone out this week because I didn’t text reminders. I still have to clean the kitchen before I can even cook dinner because everyone leaves it in shambles.

While we were on vacation I decided that I was taking a real vacation. I was ignoring everything other than being present with my family and enjoying my time away with them. That’s exactly what I did. I read, I crocheted. I sat on the beach and drank coffee on the porch. I let the chores sit while I enjoyed the sunset, it was glorious.

It also managed to blow up in my face this week. Due to my not addressing e-mails there was a mix up with my oldest son and he got dropped off 4 hours early for school on the first day. Then I found out my unvaccinated kids should be tested before it was safe for them to return – AT 11 AM THE DAY BEFORE SCHOOL STARTED. So I had to find a testing location that would take us and complete a rapid test. Because of the early drop off on Wednesday, Dev got marked absent for the afternoon session which was not his fault. I have e-mails to sign IEP paperwork, schedule IEP meetings, voicemails about schedules. The bus has not picked him up two days in a row so transportation needs an email.

Let’s do some calculations- one week off for me resulted in 3x the square root of fuck my life this week. Doesn’t quite seem worth it right? I feel like I can NEVER be off my game. Ever. I mean, I guess I can but then I’m just making more work for myself.

My brain typically sounds something like this:

Gahhhd. The alarm is going off. Snooze. Text Dev to make sure he’s up and getting ready. Confirm same. Pee. Dogs outside. Coffee. Feed Animals. Log on to work. Time to wake up small kids. Work. Sip coffee. OK- what do I have to do today? Meeting at 10. MD appt for child at 1. Must talk to boss to say lunch might run over but I’ll make up time. Is Ollie dressed? Ok, yes and he’s eating. Time to check the other two. Wake up children. Sip coffee. Work. Are they on track to be on time for school? Yell out this question. “YES MOM”. OK. Work. Sip coffee. Dogs have to go out again. Did I get the first day paper work from the kids? Check back packs. Yell 10 min warning for leaving. Work. Oh we need groceries. Have to remember to meal plan so I can grocery shop. Did the garbage go out last night? It was really piling up. Nope. Shit. Work. Time for Oliver to come home! How was your day? Check back pack. Work. Lunch= racing to MD appt and back. Eat while working when I get home. Work. What did I get for dinner this week? Tacos is easy. “boys, can you make tacos for dinner tonight?” Oh, they wont be home. I’ll make tacos. Work. Kids come home. How was your day?! Great! Love you, so proud. Any homework? Check backpacks. Work. Work is done. Walk to kitchen to make tacos. Shit. Have to wash a pot so I have a clean one to cook tacos. While I’m chopping these veggies I’ll prep the food for the pigs. And then I’ll just feed the others while meat is cooking. Does dishes while intermittently making dinner. Cleans garbage off counter. Tacos are done, feed children. OK what did I need to do? Right, meal plan. Sits on phone looking for recipes- interrupted 467 times for questions. makes grocery list. order instacart. feel guilty for spending the extra money on delivery. Sid is gonna handle clothes and snack for tomorrow. Put food away so dogs don’t steal it when I’m not looking. I have 13 emails from 4 different schools to process and deal with. I’m so tired. Crochet so I have inventory to sell. It’s dark. Give children vitamins/medication. Take my medication. Neglect my own personal hygiene so I can just crash in bed and play games on my phone to forget. Turn off games. What do I have to do tomorrow? Starts making out list and plans to achieve the list. Its almost midnight? How did that happen?! If I fall asleep now I’ll still get 6 hours…

Over. and Over. and Over. Variables change but the weight remains the same. Sometimes I can handle it, right now I can’t. A call came in from school while I was typing this… I pretended I didn’t see it and teared up instead at the thought of all the things I have to catch up on.

I asked for help and I’m getting it. I’m working on it. I’m trying to avoid my brains defense mechanism that sends me into a numb depression which makes me the opposite of who I really am.

Phew. That was a big brain dump huh? Welcome to my insides. This isn’t a cry for help and I’m not asking for pity. I feel best in my life when I’m honest and this is what my honesty can provide right now. If you’ve made it this far, thanks. I love you. If you are a magical unicorn that has figured out the balance of life, please send me an e-mail. Or hit me up on social media. Or send me a messenger pigeon, whatever man, I’m not picky.

If this sounds or feels familiar, you’re not alone. I’m here in the shit with you. Maybe we will both get shovels for our birthday and we can dig our way out… or maybe let’s just get a cocktail.

Published by awadleigh

Mother of 5, lover of food, goofy by trade.

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