I had a breakdown this morning.
My stomach still hurts from just how hard I cried. My ribs ache. My cheeks are sore. My eyes are puffy and ringed red. You know that kind of crying right? I went into GC’s office, knelt on the floor, hung onto the back of his computer chair and CRIED like the world was ending. The sound came up from the bottom of my belly and ripped through my chest. It could no longer be contained.
I hit a breaking point.
I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. Things I am still not writing about. When they are concluded, maybe then I can write. Will they ever been concluded? Phone calls and emails and scheduling conflicts. Meetings made and then canceled. Reading detailed reports. Reading books about the laws. About the rights of my child. Wondering. Questioning. Waiting. Preparing. Highlighting. Scribbling notes. Suggestions of lawyers. My head is full. I feel supported and alone, can you feel those things at once?
The Roc. Oh, the Roc. He has been so…snarky lately. Nasty. Talking back. Sassing me. Testing me. Pushing me. Closer and closer to the edge of my sanity. Where is the love? Where is the fun? I miss the fun. Sure, I capture the smiles and post them. But before and after those smiles are screams and screeches. Everything is a fight. We’ve been struggling through our days lately and I’m so tired. I’m just so tired.
I tried to phone my neighbor this morning to ask if we could borrow a movie. He followed me around screeching and seething. My attention cannot be diverted from him. He cannot entertain himself. I vaulted the gate and locked myself in the bathroom. I couldn’t hear her. She couldn’t hear me. The Roc screamed and thrashed against the door until I paused my conversation and sent him to his room. He did not go willingly. He had a massive tantrum upstairs.
I got angry. Really angry. Sometimes I feel stuck in anger. I cannot see through it’s thickness. I cannot figure out how to solve these seemingly unsolvable problems. Really? You’re going to tantrum again? Really? And I know that his behavior is a form of communication. I know this. But seriously? I am spent.
I tried to go talk with him. He was nasty again. I told him no pool today. All hell broke loose. I lost my cool. I got in his face. I screamed with tears rolling down my cheeks. I swatted his leg. My heart dropped into my stomach. I felt myself breaking into two. I cannot do this today. I am not cut out for this. I am not a good Mom.
Sobs racked through my body. I went into GC’s room.
I hate feeling so alone. I let go of the back of the chair and dialed GC’s work number. No answer. I didn’t leave a message. Someone knocked on the door.
My neighbor to lend me the movie I requested. The dog pushed his way outside and I couldn’t hide my hideous face. She asked if I was okay. I shook my hands in front of my body. My arms wobbled. I couldn’t speak. She stepped inside. I backed away. Turned away and with my hands over my face told her I couldn’t do this anymore. She closed the door and sat at the table. Her eyes filled up with tears as my body heaved.
“I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I am not good at this. I am not a good mom. I can’t do this again. I’ve ached for another child…but I can’t do this again. I think the universe knows this and that’s why I only have one. I am not supposed to be a mom.”
I laid my head down and sobbed. I wouldn’t let her hug me. I told her how I screamed at the Roc. How I swatted his leg. How he flinched. (It hurts to even write this and remember the look on his face.) I didn’t want to tell her. I told her anyway. The truth stings.
She told me that every mother has bad days. Every mother does things like that. My eyes searched her face. She told me how she threw something at one of her children on one of her roughest days. I was surprised. I was grateful that she told me. Her truth. She doesn’t always feel like a good mom. She doesn’t always feel cut out for the job. Her three (typical) kids drive her up the wall too. Parenting kids is hard. I have a little bit of a different situation. Yup, I do.
When she left I went up to talk to the Roc. He had seen the street sweeper out the window and was wholly focused on whether or not it was coming back. His tantrum and my breakdown apparently forgotten. I apologized and hugged him to me. He sat on my lap and rested his head on my shoulder. Then he started to play with my hands. We went downstairs to get some fruit and put in the movie.
I called GC and he couldn’t leave work. I called my mom and there was no answer. I didn’t leave a message. I didn’t trust my voice. I thought about my sister, I know she’s busy. And it’s hard to dump this stuff on people over the phone. I can only imagine how helpless they feel when I cry 1,500 miles away. So I opened up a New Post and started to write.
It feels good to get this out of my head and onto the screen. I’m slowly putting the pieces back together. I haven’t broken apart like this in a long time. I know that I’m over whelmed and spent. I need a break. I need to recharge.
And today that just isn’t possible. I have to get it together and hold it together for the rest of the day.
The movie is still playing. So for now I’m going to go bake some zucchini bread and dream about the road trip my best girl and I are in the planning stages of right now. It’s a necessary trip for her, research for a book she’s writing, and a luxury for me, to be her sidekick and helper. It will be my first real break from the Roc since he was born, almost 6 years ago.
5 whole days. I just have to get through July and August.