Yesterday was a rough day.
I didn't handle it as amazingly as I handled Thursday.
I woke up in kind of a funk and just sort of wanted to curl up in my awesome giant fleece bathrobe that is sort of like wearing a fuzzy cocoon and lie facedown on the couch for I don't know, forever.
So, Saturday was the one year anniversary of truly hitting the breaking point and finding myself in a position where I could no longer pretend that everything was fine, that I was coping just great with the whiplash fast cycles of hope and despair that the adoption process was for us, that I could continue giving my all in school and not honor the fact that my losses and my ability to continue persevering were weighing me down to the point where I was drowning. I didn't want to give that anniversary the power to put me in a funk, and I had all these plans to make the day lovely:
- We were going to go check out gas fireplace options for our living room (since we have a lovely wood-burning fireplace but we haven't burnt wood in it in years, and when we go away and the room has a gas fireplace we hate the blue starter flame but love that you can have a cozy fire with the flip of a switch).
- We were going to go to a cooking store where Bryce has a gift certificate.
- We were going to go to the grocery store to get the fixings for the yummy dinner I'd planned to sort of combat the sadness of this time -- Bryce's delicious roast duck breast, red swiss chard, fingerling potatoes, some fancy cheeses and marcona almonds -- definitely not foods within the liver plan, but whatever, I am technically still on vacation. A girl's gotta live.
- I was meeting a friend to go see Love, Simon which would then give Bryce some time to get some researchy work done.
- When I got back, we'd have cheese and GF coconut shrimp and a little bubbly and then the duck extravaganza with a nice French burgundy.
Sounds great, right? Maybe fit the gym in there, too.
That is NOT what happened.
We checked out the fireplace stuff, but the fireplace shop was walking distance from my old house where I lived in a previous life, and I started to feel a little anxious then, a little icky, but I got over it as we drove back into the area that is now where this life is spent.
We couldn't go to the cooking shop since we forgot the gift certificate on the back of the couch by the cat, so we went to the grocery, and had a yummy salad lunch where I went a little topping-crazy and got an upcharge but it was totally delicious so I didn't mind. It was good, but I was a little worried about getting glutened. I didn't, though. Which was fortunate, because that would have totally escalated everything else.
Then we walked around to do the little shopping, and I'm not entirely sure when things went awry but I found myself in a bit of a flight-or-fight mindset.
It was crowded, and there were people with young children, but I think maybe I passed someone talking to her child who looked sort of familiar, like maybe a person from fertility groups past, and I started cycling in my head a bit about how Wegmans is the perfect place to see what life could have looked like had things worked out differently.
I mean, also we had duck and fancy goat brie and figs in our cart, and there was a lot of wipes and gallon milk and stuff in that cart, so you could probably imagine that others might see us and wonder what life would be like if things worked out differently, too... which helps me to feel a little better.
But it didn't stop me from all of a sudden feeling SUPER panicky and having my heartrate speed up and my breathing get all shallow. We were in the checkout line and Bryce asked, "Um, are you okay? You look...off," and my eyes welled up with tears I wasn't sure I could stop and I just said, "I don't want to talk about it now but I really need to get out of here and I don't think I can do the movie."
So he switched places with me and chatted with the cashier while I looked elsewhere and tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears that were running silently down my face, and thought that honestly, I couldn't really pinpoint any one thing.
I was just sad.
So I ducked out of the movie and sent Bryce in to find my friend (who fortunately was also meeting someone else so it's not like I ruined the day there) and I stayed in the car and sent a text that basically said I wasn't public-okay and needed to go home, but her phone is a flippy thing and she couldn't read it so it was good that Bryce found her inside the cinema.
We went home, and I cried, and I couldn't put into words why exactly, and then I got into pajamas and laid down on the couch and fell asleep for about two hours.
I felt like the old pit opened up underneath me for a moment in time.
After waking up I felt way better though, and got some food ready. We played a game all night that was "make a Google Music playlist of songs that are just a woman's first name" and it lasted HOURS. There are a LOT of songs like that. It was highly entertaining to follow "Cecilia" with "Jenny From the Block." I danced around and ate my face off and felt much better.
But today I am feeling a little panicky again. I'm home, and I'm getting the house ready for the book club on Tuesday where we'll talk about I Am, I Am, I Am, and I'll make white chicken chili and salad and pick up wine tomorrow. It feels overwhelming. Going back to school tomorrow feels overwhelming. I didn't do ANYTHING over the break, and I feel like I need to get in and make sure I'm in good shape for tomorrow, but I just have this feeling of having a bunch of nameless stuff pushing down on me, leaving me feeling a little crushed, a little compressed, and out of breath.
This will pass. I know it will. I will get back into a routine and have order in my days again and that will be comforting. I will have my last IEP meeting on Tuesday (which I realized is on the same day as state tests and so the timing of classes is wayyy off, which will be interesting). We are starting an interdisciplinary unit on WWII in both my English classes, so things will be super interesting for the next 3-4 weeks. And then it will be May.
Maybe the weather has me down, too. It's cold, and snowy, and gray. The spring bulbs have just sort of paused themselves. Everything feels on hold.
Anyway, this post feels rambly and somewhat depressing, and basically is a way for me to attempt to purge this sense of unsettledness from my psyche. And also to show that some days you feel awesome and in control of everything and like acceptance and healing are totally your thing, and then other days you sink a bit into an old pit that was just lurking, waiting for you to slip.
Except now I know that there is a way out, and that this is temporary, and normal, and a part of all that healing and acceptance. Hopefully tomorrow is better.