A Good Cry On A Saturday Morning
So I’d planned to spend this morning – this lovely Saturday morning – being super productive and getting work done. I have two chapters of book edits sitting in my inbox from my developmental editor which I haven’t touched in days. And I have important errands to run, that can no longer be postponed.
It’s now after lunch and I’ve completed nothing. Why? Cause ‘Overwhelm’ decided to drop in for a visit. And I didn’t have the strength or will to kick it out.
‘Overwhelm’ doesn’t visit me very often any more. There was a two-year window after my divorce where I think it had practically moved in. But I gradually learned to live with it; confine it to it bedroom on periodic time-outs, so-to-speak.
But when ”that time of the month’ closes in, my defenses are down. And this morning, nothing could stop Overwhelm from swallowing me. So I did the only thing I had the strength to do: I sat down on my kitchen floor and had a good, hard cry.
You know what triggered it for me? The unexpected barrage of phone calls I received. I went from one the next, unable to do adhere to my to-do list, anxiety mounting as I looked down at it, reminding myself over and over to relax.
One of the phone conversations was with from my kids. They’re away right now, on their grandma’s farm. I’ve been working my butt off, 12 hour days, ever since they left. This morning, my daughter was crying. She was upset cause she wanted to bring a frog home as a pet. Mr Hoppers she named him. And as my five minutes of consoling her turned into thirty minutes, the enormity of having to work 12-hour days suddenly seemed small. Why? Cause soon I’ll have work around the clock AND successfully meet the needs of three young kids again. How the hell am I going to do EVERYTHING? I kept thinking. Three jobs. Three kids. Hockey three times a week. Gymnastics too. PD days, no childcare. I’m maxed out. I’m not even living it yet, and I am maxed out at the mere thought.
As a coach and a divorce expert, I ‘know’ all the things I could do, ‘should’ do, to climb myself out of this self-pitying thinking and behavior. As an expert in gender intelligence, I ‘know’ that the white matter in my brain and my limbic system are on overdrive right now; that blood flow has increased by 40% to my frontal cortex.
But ‘knowing’ doesn’t come with a Superwoman Cape. Sometimes I need to cave to life too; cave to being weak ‘ol bared-bones me, not Ms Expert, Ms Doer, Ms Single Mom Extraordinaire.
Cause sometimes I still feel scared; I feel vulnerable, and overwhelmed to be doing so much on my own. And a good cry this morning was the best I could do.