Never alone

Sometimes you just have to open the flood gates and hope for the best.

As I sat on the couch, curled up, hands clenching my favorite blanket at my quivering lips, tears streaming down my face and mind racing in a million different directions I fought the urge to video or even live stream my extremely intense, frightening and embarrassing but very real mental breakdown that I was smack dab in the middle of.

I'm a talker, a teller and a over sharer by birth right.  But this, this was not a typical "I need a break" moment.  This was NOT a "drink a beer and you'll feel better" moment.  This was not just a "give me five minutes of peace and quiet so I can collect my thoughts and move on" moment.  This, unfortunately, was much, much more than that. I am not proud of the way I handled myself.  I'm not so blind that I didn't see this coming.  But I'm human. I need love like every other breathing soul on the planet, good or bad, black or white, rich or poor, young or old. I chose to write about it because writing is like therapy for me.  It's not for everyone. And there are plenty of critics who will say it's a cry for attention.  I can't speak for everyone that likes to write.  But what I can tell you is that it works for me.  It helps me. And other than helping myself regain some sort of normalcy my hope is that it helps someone else too.  If you have the time, and you'll need time, here is what it's like to lose your shit.

As I fumble through life, working the same job for 20 years, going through the same routine every single day and pretending, for the most part that I am the boss of my wonderful life, not a single day goes by that I don't wonder if I could've done anything differently to still be who I am and have all the same wonderful people in my life without all the chaos, sorrow, stress and disappointment.  I know how blessed I am, so don't mistake my feelings for greed or selfishness.  I count my blessings several times a day, every single day of my life. I know exactly how differently my life could've ended up had I not been the determined, resilient, strong minded person that I am. But I'd be lying if I said that I did it alone. There is an army of people responsible for keeping me alive and on the straight and narrow for the last 43 years.  I've tried so hard to be a positive person, loving, encouraging, understanding, influential and just good.  But I've also been stubborn, naive, lazy, judgmental and a downright failure. No one is perfect and striving to be will hurt more than it helps. I've been humbled by so many things in my life, making me a better person, a kinder person, a person who is more aware and more accepting. I guess, sometimes, even when things feel like they are perfect, they are not. That reality can hurt pretty bad when it hits you at 7:00 p.m. in the evening while you are doing what you do best, taking care of your family and your household after a long, stressful day at work.

All day yesterday I felt rushed, confused, stressed and like I was falling behind.  The universe was against me at every single angle. I caught every traffic light, my coffee got cold 3 separate times, I kept dropping everything, I couldn't remember simple things like the code to get into work that I have used every day for 20 years, I had zero patience, I felt like everyone and everything was taking advantage of me and my heart felt like it was going to literally jump right out of my chest. I was tired, shaky, mean as hell and on the verge of tears (or murder) all day long. I couldn't focus on any single task to save my life because my mind was light years away worrying and stressing about every single thing in my life that is completely out of my control. Why am I thinking about all this stuff right now? I asked myself that a million times.  My days are usually filled with chaos as I work for 6 people and can either be swamped with piles of tasks to complete by the end of the day or so bored I don't know what to do with myself. This was one of those rip-your-hair-out kind of busy days. I made it through the work day without getting fired, which felt like a damn miracle and I forced myself to 'cheer up' on the way to pick up my baby boy from daycare. I needed to get my crap together...for him, at least. We did a little shopping because aside from writing, that's the other thing that helps get me grounded with all these crazy feelings.  Not necessarily spending money, which you may have thought I meant. Just, shopping. Distracting myself with new shiny stuff and the therapeutic way a different atmosphere can save me on a bad day. We had fun. He's the best shopping partner ever! I didn't even overspend. It was great. The moment we walked in the door at home it was like walking through the gates of hell.  I felt all that negative emotion I was stifling all day come rushing back with murderous force. My home is the one place I ALWAYS feel safe, loved, calm and whole.  I had no idea why suddenly, it was quite the opposite.  But I did what I always do and I smiled and went about my normal routine. I got the little guy started on his homework while I put away groceries and started dinner.  Shortly after I got there the older boy comes down, as he always does, to greet me, hug me, tell me he loves me and fill me in on his day.  I love when he comes down and keeps me company in the kitchen, telling me about his friends, school, the latest episode of whatever show he's catching up on or some random stuff he read or watched and loved. But even in that moment that I treasure, I felt some sort of pressure building.  I was super distracted and praying he wouldn't notice.  I don't want him to think I don't care what he's telling me. The dogs were doing figure eights around my feet in my super tiny kitchen, the little one was not even focused a little bit on his homework, the kitchen was a hot mess and then my husband walked in. This is one of the highlights of my day because we are all being reunited after being away from each other all day.  I love that we get that time together every single day.  But I could feel my blood pressure rising as he stood in that tiny kitchen with that crazy toddler, that babbling teenager and those annoying ass dogs who were clearly determined to trip me as I tried to navigate my way through the chaos. Once again my brain was everywhere it shouldn't be, on every negative thing it could conjure up, whether it was experiences I had throughout the day or some flaw or broken thing I've been trying to fix for decades. My heart started beating even faster and harder and I fought back the tears.  I kept dropping everything again.  Patience was gone. The walls were closing in. I was losing this battle.  While everyone else was oblivious....or so I thought...I escaped to the bathroom for a few minutes of solitude to gather my thoughts and just BREATHE for 5 seconds before I spontaneously blew the fuck up.

The 5 minutes or so I spent in that bathroom felt like an eternity as I pleaded with my eyeballs to just STOP, already.  But I thought I gathered myself together enough to resume my responsibilities without too much judgment from the fam. Honestly...it wasn't judgment I was afraid of. I didn't want them to worry about me or think I was incapable of being their super woman.  I didn't want to let them down. After all, I wasn't even sure why I was so...upset. My hubby knew something was up and instead of asking me, probably knowing I would come unraveled, he decided to try to help. He took over homework duty with the smallish kid and the teenager retreated to his boy-cave. "Just breathe, Samantha. Just fucking breathe. It's not so bad. You are making a mountain out of a molehill. Just get through dinner and then bury yourself in laundry for a couple hours. Everything will be fine, you big baby." And just when I thought I had made it through that brief anxiety attack, or whatever the hell it was...the dogs came charging back in my kitchen, stole the little guys box of crayons and proceeded to run into the living room and scatter them all over, chewing them, barking so loudly that my head instantly began to hurt so bad my vision became blurred, and my heart pounded vigorously as I fought the urge to just scream at the top of my lungs. I yelled at the dogs (sorry neighbors 6 doors down), gathered the crayons and threw the box on the table, put the dogs in their cages like villains being locked away forever, went in the kitchen to finish dinner with my lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed, clenched teeth and eye roll on fleek......and there it was.  Monster tears, gut wrenching pain in my entire abdomen, the shakes, and ALL of the emotions I felt all day long slamming into me like a fucking tidal wave. I kept the audible sobbing to a minimum as I faced the stove, finishing our not so healthy meal of sausage dogs and managed to make it through that process with no one saying a word to me.  When I spoke I did so very carefully and with private investigator type skills, being sure not to allow anyone to see the tears. We made it through dinner without anyone broaching the subject...even though I knew they knew at this point that "mom is a fucking basket case tonight!" I started the little guys bath water but apparently it was glaringly obvious I was still struggling because my hubby came in to 'take over' bath time for me. Jr. fell when getting out of the bath and ran to momma....who was knee deep in emotions... for some healing hugs and kisses. I obliged, of course...but not without him noticing that I was still upset. He wanted me to brush his teeth.  Kids are so aware, never underestimate.  I should've just had my husband do it but I followed him into the bathroom because I thought I needed to...to let him know that even though I'm upset, I still love him and would do anthing for him. His 5 year old rambunctious little self was hopping all over as I struggled with the patience to get through the 2 minutes it took to brush his teeth and I snapped at him.  I thought he was going to fall and hurt himself.  Then he jumped to me and I wasn't quite prepared.  My back, as usual, has been hurting so bad lately and I thought I was going to fall with him and hurt him.  I told him he needed to put his legs down so I didn't drop him and he wasn't listening. He thought it was 'fun'.  He was just being 5. And just as he threw himself backward, still holding on with his arms I loosened my grip thinking that him falling to the floor would be better than me falling to the floor ON TOP OF HIM. He was just inches from the floor at the time but he still managed to scrape his wrist on the door under the sink.  He ran to his bed with a somewhat playful smile on his face, or so I thought. When I found the strength to stand up straight (stupid fucking back) I went to his room to find him hugging daddy and crying.  I felt like the absolute biggest monster in the world.  What had I done?? I was paralyzed. I just stood there crying as I watched him cry and hug his daddy.  This stupid thing that has taken over my soul has caused me to hurt my baby. What kind of monster does that?? He loosened his grip and turned to me with those big beautiful eyes and reached out to hug me.  I swear to you I did NOT want to ever let him go! I tried to tell him how sorry I was for letting him get hurt and that I was afraid I was going to fall on him and hurt him.  And do you know what he said? "I'm sorry I hurt your back."  He thought he hurt ME!! At this point I was feeling like a serious failure.  Every failure in my life somehow mattered right at that very moment and not a single good thing even registered in my brain. I offered to let him lay with me a while on the couch and he quickly agreed, hugging me and crying on my shoulder.  We talked more on the couch and I gave him tons of love but somehow, I know he'll never forget this. After 20 minutes or so he said he was ready to go to his bed where he put up a little resistance...but daddy got him settled down, thank God. I started picking things up around the living room, trying to keep my self distracted from all the horrible emotions I was feeling before I sat down to watch American Idol with the teenager and I couldn't get a grip to save my life. I was struggling to breathe 'normally', my soul was irritated at every sight and sound within my grasp. The teenager noticed, unfortunately...and he reached out and gave me a big hug and said "Mom. Sit down. What are you doing?" At that point, I had so much guilt. On top of everything else I was feeling I now felt like my poor babies are seeing me break down and will think they can't count on their momma now." He told me he would pick up the living room for me and anything else I needed done. And he did. And I sat down, unable to speak or even make sense of what was happening to me.

Everyone left me alone. Most of the time I hate that and can't figure out why they don't just come give me a hug and make me feel better.  But this time. This time was different.  I needed to be left alone to cry it out for a minute. Who knew that minute would last 5 more hours?

I don't know if there was any ONE thing that set me off. I don't know if I didn't eat well, sleep well, drank too much coffee, or if maybe I'm just getting older and my hormones are changing and making it harder for me to maintain my sanity and strength. All I know is that for the last 24 hours I have not been ok.  And it hurts me to say that. Mostly because I know how it affected my family.  But also because I pride myself on being strong enough to handle a lot of stressful situations. Some of the thoughts that went through my head in that 24 hours were really hard to deal with and still are as I'm writing this. And for the first time ever, the physical reaction I was having to this 'attack' was paralyzing. I had zero control. I was so mean! I could barely breathe at times. I couldn't rationalize any of it. I couldn't even speak. I couldn't put those thoughts in to words to ask my husband for forgiveness, love or HELP. All I knew was that something was wrong with me and there was nothing I could do about it. I said such mean things to the people I love and even made my little guy cry. I felt like a horrible mother and wife, a horrible employee for the things I said and did the last half of the day, and an incompetent, moody, bitch who was incapable of being the awesome person my family THOUGHT I was. And as I sat there, bawling uncontrollably on the couch while the babies slept and my husband, oblivious to my continued breakdown preoccupied himself with video games in the other room, (all of which was in my head but I know he knew I needed some time and space. He said as much. And I love him for that!) all I wanted to do was disappear. I didn't know if I was having a panic attack, an anxiety attack, a heart attack or a 'welcome to menopause' party. But one thing was certain.  I failed.

Around midnight my husband came strolling out of our bedroom and sat next to me on the couch.  He kissed my head.  He didn't say much and I was grateful.  It was the first time all day that I could breathe normally without feeling like my chest was going to explode. It was the first time I could think a little more clearly without all my emotions clouding my judgment.  In that moment when his lips touched my head I realized that I wasn't going through this alone and more importantly, he loved me anyway.

I'm still feeling a little off today but much better than I was last night. I don't know what is going on or why yesterday was so damaging to me and my loves....but what I do know is that I'm only human.  My husband said to me the first time he saw me tearing up last night that I needed to use my words and let him know when I was struggling so he could help me get through it.  At the time, with everything that was going on inside of me I just dreaded the idea of him even knowing how screwed up I really was.  I was content letting him think I was just being...bitchy or having a rough day. If he knew the demons I was really dealing with he might have me committed or leave me.  And there is no way I was going to be able to face any sort of life without him. I need him like I needed the breath in my lungs.  Thank God he loves me unconditionally and is in every single sense of the word my very best friend.

Anxiety and depression are real. We are not making it up or trying to get attention. We are not just cry babies. We are not just having a bad day. The burdens my heart bears are very real and clearly got the best of me yesterday.  I am overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions daily over things that are completely out of my control but still affect me in a very real, very intense way.  I am not unhappy in my life. I am not a bad person. I am not 'sick'. Although, I do consider anxiety and depression a sickness.  It isn't just going to go away.  It takes an army of people, a world of love and a whole lot of time and patience to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  By no means am I 'over' what I went through yesterday.  But because of the love I have in my life and the few hours of sleep I was able to get I can see a little more clearly this morning.  I am so grateful, thankful and blessed beyond belief for my life and everything in it.  I know I can't be everything to everyone but I am something to so many and they let me know every chance they get how much they love and appreciate me.  I hope they know how much I love them too.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.  If you can relate to any of it, I'm sorry because it sucks...but I hope you know you are not alone.  Sometimes you need to just cry it out. Sometimes you need to unload all of the burdens and just detox.  It's not fair to you or anyone that loves you are cares for you when you let it all bottle up inside you. That emotion has to have somewhere to go and if you aren't careful, you'll hurt the ones you love....and you'll hurt yourself.  I wish I had taken my husbands advice and tried to talk to him last night instead of crying for 5 hours. But the fear of hurting him by laying my burdens on him kept me from doing that. And in turn I hurt him and everyone else around me. If you need someone to talk to, please call me. Call someone.  Even if it's someone you don't know (a hotline). Just don't keep it inside.  You are loved so much more than you will ever, ever know.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline 1-800-273-8255
or text CONNECT to 741741 (This is a free crisis hotline, not just for suicide but for any signs of depression and anxiety that make you feel alone)