Okay, on the whole, I’m pretty sane as human beings go. Oh, but there are moments…when I lose my natural mind. Lose it. And heaven help us all (the fam) when I do, cause there is no talking to crazy.
Here it is folks, this morning’s gentle shove…right over the edge:
I look at this photo now and I see color, order…a cute little kitchen. I see that now. But this morning? Sunday morning? At 8:05? I saw…failure. I saw…I never, ever, ever, ever, ever get a break. I saw…this is impossible. I cannot possibly live like this. I can’t keep on top of things. How does this happen? Wasn’t it just clean? I am going to throw out all the food, all the dishes, and all the people. Post haste.
I’m not kidding. Something inside me snaps…and anxiety takes over…and I hear things in my heart that hurt and make it hard to breathe.
Now, being 45 years old, and having lived with these freakish outbreaks of insanity my entire life, I’ve learned a few things: 1. my reality in this moment is warped, and 2. I need a moment to regroup and get perspective.
And so, I said, “Phil, please take the girls to church. I will follow.” Because I knew…I was dangerous. My mouth was dangerous. My thoughts were dangerous. And I just needed to breathe…so that “normal” could return.
Sure enough, by the time we got to church, I could breathe. I could laugh (a little) at how a sink full of dishes could undo me. Undo me. And I thought...hey, go home, take a picture, and share. Maybe, just maybe, there are other crazies out there…who need to know they are not alone.
So, crazy mama, you are not alone. And you’re not crazy. Okay…maybe a little crazy…but that just makes life more interesting, right? Seriously, sometimes the fear of…whatever…just gets too big. And the dirty dishes or the laundry or the diapers…they rise up. Yes. They rise up. But so do we. Do not suffer alone. Do not think you are the only one…cause I promise you…you are not alone. And, you are not crazy. Okay, maybe just a little.