I'm on Day 8 of dealing with a stomach virus in the house.
Eight.
And I'm starting to fear it will never actually end.
Every one of us has had it. And while the worst of it only lasts for about 12 hours, the tenderness and not-quite-right-ness lasts for much longer. Which is why I've had at least one kid, and sometimes 2 or 3, home from school every day since last Monday.
I haven't slept a full night. I've hardly even been in my own bed. Scrunched up at one end of the couch, a feverish, nauseated kid on the other.
I went stir crazy yesterday and left the house in a fit of exasperation. I just ran errands, but I needed a taste of freedom. Where I wasn't serving saltines and wondering who was going to need me next.
When I came home, they heard my car in the driveway and quickly staged a massacre scene inside the house. It was the first time I laughed in days.
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This fall has brought other challenges I can't write about right now. I always HATE when bloggers write that. I SWORE I would never. But I can't find a way to not say it, and yet, I can't actually say it. They are stories that don't belong to me. And I don't feel comfortable sharing them right now, even the parts that affect me. They will come. But for now, they are big and heavy and scary.
I button it all up and shove it way deep down. It lets me go through my day, even though it weighs me down inside. And when I'm alone, and not trying to find my way through a new job, or a new recipe, or another load of puke-y laundry, it all comes bubbling up. Like burning lava.
In the car, after I've dropped off whoever needs dropping, and I'm alone, the stress leaks out my eyes. The other day, my timing was off and I burst into tears when the lady in the drive-thru at Starbucks opened the window to hand me my drink. I laughed and cried at the absurdity of it. She looked alarmed and I just drove away. There was no explaining it. I don't understand it myself.
6 comments:
"The stress leaked out my eyes." Yep, happened to me the other day too, though thankfully, not at the Starbucks drive-thru window.
I totally get the "I wish I could write about this great story but I can't." You have no idea how rich the fodder is where I am, and yet, I just... can't.
Hang in there, mama.
I highly recommend crying in the line at Starbucks, or in the car, or anywhere. If you can't deal with the entirety of the situation, you can at least do this one little thing for yourself. Hang in there.
I so hear you. I am so sorry to hear about the sickness. That sounds terrible. Stuff like that will knock you down so hard, especially when you're not sleeping and you don't have any time for yourself. Add in a new job on top of that and it's no wonder you're crying in the car. I love you, Sue. Hang in there. It'll get better.
That's what happens to my stress too....
The other day, the bank screwed something up royally. I went down there to get it straightened out, and when the banker asked me it everything was okay, I said "no, it's not" and burst into tears. It wasn't just THAT thing, it was that on top of three thousand other tiny things.
I hear you, dude.
Wanna meet for lunch one day next week? I probably can't fix any problems, but I can offer good listening and provide the absurdity of my own life for comparison purposes :)
Sue, I've been thinking about you as the school year has been going along. I hope everything finds some calm and balance soon. Best to you!
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Go ahead. I can take it.