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I’m not well. Mentally unhinged, but by far not my worse bout of whatever the fuck this is. It started before Thanksgiving. I was coasting through Thanksgiving, letting whatever happens to the mercy of the universe. I was suddenly aware of myself in ways that I’m normally oblivious.

The way my hair feels against my neck. How my heels rub against the back of my primary pair of shoes. The noise my house shoes make while I walk across the room. The teeth in my mouth feel gross no matter how often I brush my teeth. My nose has been making this whistling noise. My breathing is irregular. I can feel my toenails.

I’ve been trying to “wait for it” to get better. Just pushing it all down and waiting. I got my haircut, I clipped my toenails. I keep brushing my teeth. Nothing helped me. “It’ll pass,” I told myself, trying my best to ignore the pain in my back while I sit comfortably on the couch. My shoulders ache no matter how I position my posture and our tens unit is broken. My back hurts from sitting too long but when I think about walking I am suddenly so exhausted.

I have walls that need painting. A kitchen that needs organizing. Christmas Presents that need wrapping. Gifts that need to be purchased. Gifts that need to be made with materials I already have on hand. School Christmas parties that I need to prepare for. Teacher gifts that need to be made. I missed my own deadline for Book 4, but I’ve hit my stride and need to finish it before the momentum goes away. I haven’t gone on a 30min walk in weeks. Laundry, so much fucking laundry. Then folding the clothes. The kid’s rooms are trashed. There is so much trash everywhere, in every corner of the house.

I keep pacing the house unsure of where to start. The obvious first step is washing the clothes so I do. And then I pile the clean clothes up in an area of the house and wash more clothes. I took the paint out of the garage and walk by it twenty times a day to do nothing with it. My daughter’s room looks like someone picked it up and shook it. I can’t facilitate her organizing it because I can’t organize my own life currently. Every weekend has something going on. Something involved and time-consuming. Even when we have time to get a chore done, we play video games as a family instead.

I keep running out of time. “I’ll do this before the kids get out of school” but then my watch alarm goes off that it’s time to retrieve the kids from school. I’ve told myself to make a list a hundred times but I’m too overwhelmed to make the list. I wake up and try to be hyped to get the kids off to school while they drag their entire bodies to the breakfast table and complain the entire time as they leave the house. How can I expect so much from them when I can’t function? It feels hypocritical.

There is never enough money or time. I cannot do this. I just can’t. So I escape to writing my book. Nothing gets done but the absolute bare minimum. Recently I caught up on dishes from Thanksgiving, just in time for thanksgiving baking to start. Even through the fog all I can think about is how self-aware I am. This is growth. Recognizing how you are and reasons of why you’re reacting this way is huge. Even if, in the moment, you still can’t seem to control your shit. (That’s where the ‘there’s always room for growth’ comes in) What happens with losing your shit but knowing you’re losing your shit no matter what you do to stop yourself from losing your shit is that you’re yelling at the top of your lungs, “Mommy can’t control her emotions right now and all you two are doing is infuriating me. I’d rather not be a screaming monster right now! Just be quiet enough that I don’t hear you so we can all live in peace for a few minutes!”

I KNOW that this is triggered anxiety from the month of December and all the fuckery that comes with the holidays.
I KNOW that I’ll be better in January.
I KNOW that this will fade and I’ll feel more like myself eventually.
I KNOW that no matter what doesn’t get done, it’ll be over when it’s over.
I KNOW that there are reasons why I should be thankful, grateful and kind to those around me.
I KNOW I’m not at risk for unaliving myself.
I KNOW that I’m not alone in these feels. Others are suffering along with me.

As I get into menopause age, I’m realizing that depression and anxiety aren’t just about being sad. Depression can show itself as red-eyed rage that just won’t stop. Anxiety can manifest as frustration and lack of patience. Depression can be road rage that comes from deep within your soul. Depression can be how fucking annoying your clothes feel against your skin when it’s your favorite kind of fabric.

Deep breaths. Just deep breaths. Deep breaths and self-soothing. Apologizing to those around you about your behavior and trying to do what you can to survive the day. That’s it. That’s all I got. Breath, eat the candy bar, go on the walk and say you’re sorry… a lot.

I know I have some apologizing to do.


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