Growing up I remember being told do not sit and cry about it- get up and do something about it. With 3 girls- I've heard my mother's words leap from my mouth so many times I've lost track. And so many of these things were probably legitimately cry-worthy. Many were not.
Yesterday was rocky from the beginning. Kiera as part of the performance ensemble, participates in a traveling educational program funded by Kaiser Permanente to encourage healthy eating habits and exercise called the Amazing Food Detective. She loves it because she gets to act. The trade off is she has to miss school and we have to get her where she needs to be. It's not earth shatteringly complicated, but we do kinda have a routine down and when I am feeling crappy it is very difficult to be flexible. So at 10:15 the night before- still not having received the "show time" email- I made her go to bed and fell into bed myself. Phil had to be to work early so I knew we'd be up by 6 to check the email- but surely the report time couldn't be too early or they would notify us.
Phil got up and I rolled over- he kissed me- it was 6:10. Why does that always happen? On saturday mornings I am up at 5:30. School mornings- just a few more minutes. Kiera is already up and brushing her hair. She looks forward to this. I go down and check my email- showtime is 6:20. I start laughing maniacally. maniacal laugh maniacal laugh. Of course. Even if we left the house right now- right freaking now it wouldn't happen. I send the director a text. Part of me wants to crawl back in bed- make Kiera snuggle up with me and watch tv all day. I need a mental health day. She would never do it. I'm torn between trying to help her and stopping the madness. Phil looks at me and the concern is tangible. My stress level is rising and I feel physically ill. I will take her. He tells me. He doesn't have time, there's so much he needs to do- I didn't want this. I didn't want him to have to do this. Yet he does because it's important to me because it's important to her. But I am just too tired. Emotionally. Physically. They are out the door before I can summon the energy to intercept her. It doesn't matter, it's time to get the other girls up and ready for school.
I have several family members and friends going through some really tough times right now. Things that make me so unbearably sad at times I can barely breathe. All I can do is send love and let them know I am thinking of them. I feel like it's not enough. Inefficiency and people not respecting and valuing time really get to me right now. I don't know if it's because of all the hard things swirling around me, experience or if my patience has just finally worn thin. The day goes on- I take a walk and visit with my nephews and their nana. I rest because the girls have a later rehearsal and I already feel worn down. I spend an hour assembling a lasagna then we end up grabbing happy meals because I didn't have enough time to heat it up. It's silly, I know. But I am tired. You never make good decisions when you are tired. Or sad. Or stressed.
I drop the girls off at rehearsal and take Bella to the park. She plays and I walk back and forth until my joints argue that it's time to stop. We sit in the car and read. And nap. At 8:35 pm, I get out of the car to go get the girls and one of the other kids informs me that they are just finishing up and will be out shortly. I get back in the car, it does not start. I try again. nothing. I remember the back light was left on the other day. Ohhhh nooo. no. One by one the cars around me leave. I don't have the energy to smile, wave or call for help. The car battery is not the only one that's run down. My internal battery is dwindling. I call Phil. He asks some insanely easy questions. Like is it in park? I may have tumors in my brain but I haven't completely lost my mind. Did you press on the brake? Oh- well shit why didn't I think of that- Kiera was currently on the floor peering into the fuse box to try and tell me if there was anything amiss- yes i fucking tried the brake. never mind, I hung up. I watched the last of the cars around us leave. Except one van which I think someone might be living in. I'm not sure. This is the perfect Halloweeny serial killer set up. I sit there and tears are just streaming down my face. I don't even want to move. I've heard of this phenomenon. People just shutting down. The girls are quiet. The sense the cracks forming in the facade of mom. I know sitting there and doing nothing will not help but I think my battery might just be depleted. I know how the car feels. I'm relating to a vehicle. This can't be good. Whenever did sitting there and crying about it solve anything. I just can't get it to stop. I can't get the car to go. I just feel so invisible. So ineffective. It's not a wrenching sobbing thing but my eyes are leaking and they won't stop.
Lily is jumping up and down waving. Phil is here. My knight in shining CU armor. He pulls next to us the kids are all gathered around learning how to jump start the new car. He looks at me and notices the tears- it's really not a big deal buddy- he tells me. And I know that but I can't turn it off. I just can't. The tears won't stop. It's not the car, or fatigue or any one thing. It's the collection of hard things swirling around and I just can't. Not tonight. Tonight is done. Tomorrow will be a new day. A new start and hopefully my battery will recharge. But not tonight. Tonight the tears just flow. For the family who are struggling with this god damn disease, for the friends who are fighting for themselves and their children, their parents. For the loss of the ability to plan and supreme frustration with others who refuse to when it is so easily at their disposal. For the loss of independence by way of exhaustion.
The car stalls again. We finally get on our way. He's running low on gas so Phil heads to the gas station. Kiera's hand is on my arm. I hope they understand someday it wasn't about the damn car. I am perfectly capable of dealing with a lot but somehow in that moment I was tired and didn't want to and watching the cars one by one around me drive away to their lives, their dinners, their futures was the loneliest feeling in the world. So it's times like these that I don't usually share. They happen. They aren't my favorite times but they are important. I wasn't alone. I was never alone. It just felt like it. Now to focus on recharging the batteries.
Messages for the Mallorys
16 years ago
Hope the batteries recharged...prayers to you.
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