There are some days that are great, and there are other days that I want to close myself in my daughter’s secret hideout in her closet.
Today is one of those days…
Today is a day that I’m screaming at my Irish Breakfast Tea because it isn’t coffee, because I’m out of coffee. Screaming at it because things are rough with my life, rough with my kids, rough in my head, and rough with my dang hormones who are working against me and can’t seem to get their crap together.
Screaming because divorce and custody sharing blows. Screaming because there never seems to be enough daylight, enough energy, or enough spare moments to do it all before it’s all spent and another day has come and gone. Screaming because nothing feels good on my postpartum body. Screaming because my hair looks like I got stuck in a wind tunnel and then licked my finger and put it in an electrical outlet. Every stinkin’ day.
Screaming because I can’t always get to my phone to document a moment before it slips away like my memory seems to be doing. Also screaming because our increasing reliance on technology to be our memory is probably contributing to why ours is failing. Screaming because it’s taking me MONTHS to read a single book. Screaming because the only books I actually finish have pictures in them.
Screaming because it feels like everything I do is looked at through a microscope. Screaming because my baby doesn’t seem to realize that my nipples don’t come off (I hope), but that sure doesn’t stop her from trying. Screaming because I can’t seem to understand all that is going on with my postpartum self. It’s overwhelming.
Screaming because there are dishes to be washed and clothes to be washed. Screaming because the floor needs vacuumed and my vacuum is defective. Screaming because I really miss hanging out with other women. Screaming because I need to get groceries, which means I need to figure out what to make for lunch out of rice and mustard.
Screaming at my Tardis cup full of tea because it won’t get its feelings hurt, won’t scream back, and won’t hold it against me.
There are lots of “techniques” out there for dissolving stress and whatnot, but when the yoga, de-stress tea, and deep breathing while counting to 10 doesn’t work, what do you do?
Sit on the porch and blow bubbles.
What do you do when you’re stressed to the max?
Screaming at Inanimate Objects