Wreckage

Right. So you know how I was all, "I posted in my sleep. Hardeeharhar." Yeah. It's not so funny anymore. Apparently I slip in and out of consciousness more than just at night and last week did it while driving. Going 50mph. On a highway. I ran into an oak tree. There aren't enough thank you prayers in the universe to account for the fact that my children weren't in the car with me.

The car flipped, bounced on the roof, and landed upright in a ditch on the other side of the highway. I have never in my life seen such wreckage.

I'm fine. I think. Mostly fine anyway. I sustained second degree burns from my shoulder to my breast from the seatbelt. I'm bruised and burned across my lap from the seatbelt and have some pretty nasty lacerations on my legs, but nothing too serious. I do not know how or why I am still here. I suppose I should really look into that.

Honestly, I'm just tired. So tired of everything. Life seems to be pressing from all sides and I feel suffocated. My hormones are all over the place. My kids are, well, kids. Joseph is Joseph, and life is life. All I want to do is crawl under the covers and sleep. For the rest of forever.

Which is so contradictory, because after the "wreckage" I've been positively panicked that my run was almost ended. That I was finished. That, "that", was it. I'm so careful, so paranoid, about so many things. And yet, ultimately it's so out of our control. And that is the crux of my anxiety. That at the end of the day, I really don't have all that much say in how the pendulum swings. And yet, that which I can control, I want to give to my sheets.

Enough. Enough for today. It's night and the sheets can win for now. I hope they'll win a little bit less tomorrow.

What the What?!!

So I come upstairs to check my email and see that my old blog is open on my screen. Huh. I wonder why this is open? Wait. What? I updated? What the WHAT?! Friends, I went to bed at 8pm last night. I have ABSOLUTELY NO RECOLLECTION of writing this. None. Zip. Apparently I sleep write. Wake up to use the bathroom? Check. Pump a little milk? Check. Write a drugged blog post after a several year hiatus? Check CHECK! I clearly cannot be trusted right now. Oh dear.

Wednesdays are dead days. Oh, and I'm back. I think. Whatever.

So (awkward silence) it's been a while. Years really. And the whys of it are many, but mostly because I didn't want to remember that time in my life. Which looking back now, seems dumb. It would have been a survivor blog (If I survived it). And perhaps there is the reason why. I wasn't very optimistic that I would come out the other side. But alas, here I am, and none of it is recorded.

So we march on. Claire is 5 and in Kindergarten. Lily is 4 and in pre-school. Thomas is 11 weeks and he loves him the foody very much thank you. Tanktankrthomas. And now it seems we are back on the precipice, trying to decide what course of action is best for our little family. The PPD has been lurking, not good lurking. Not HEY, I've been your reader for a while now and I love you so much how's about if I set up a fund for your three kids and take care of college for you? (You: clearly PPD is not your only disorder at the moment. Me: So true) But angry lurker. Lurker who throws spit wads and creates tension and truly truly wants me to feel ugly about myself, my life, my journey through motherhood and wiveliness (word?).

I feel myself slipping and the only consolation I have is that I came back from it all last time. I came back. It was ugly and less than graceful. It was scary and turbulent. At times the outlook was well, not so good. But here I am. On the other side, a survivor. I managed. I grew. Got REALLY optimistic/delusional, and threw my hat in the ring one more time. With the knowledge that there are many options available, less than ideal though they may be, they are options nonetheless, and I CAN do this. Have I mentioned I'm on Ambien right now, because I really think that ought to be noted. The screen and my surroundings are a bit floaty and not entirely real...so we'll let that be our theme for todays syntax. Druggy otherworldy. Oh. My English teachers would be so proud.

So today is Wednesday. Wednesdays for me, are hell. Pure unadulterated hell. Get the kids to school (seperate schools, seperate times) with a newborn who wants to eat every 14.2 minutes lest armageddon unfold. Pick up Claire from bus stop (and oh yes, I was manually pumping while waiting for her in the van. Howdy doody bus driver!! Why yes my nipples do appear to be in some kind of medieval torture device. Want one? No? Well see you tomorrow!! Milk is dripping down my shirt. My boobs are shamed.

Drive to pick up Lily from Preschool/swim class. Thomas blows out diaper in car seat on the way. Throw Lily in locker room shower, Pull Thomas from poo-soaked infant carrier. Lovely. It's at this point of the day where I switch into what I fondly refer to as, "I am dead inside and have no feelings" mode. I've found it works brilliantly for days like this. Wednesdays are generally a day of anxiety, emotional melt-downs, and mild hysterics round these parts. Okay, in my brain. And this seems to help. Operation Zombie Robot. I do not allow myself feelings on Wednesdays. I can cry about it on Thursday. Feel overwhelmed about it on Friday. Wednesday? Well, we're in crisis mode and we simply must push through.

So! Repeating my dead inside mantra to myself repeatedly, I change the diaper, dry off the milk leak stains from the tatas under the hand dryer. Don't judge. I pumped in the car. While driving. Because I've got everything under control...

Target doesn't have our prescriptions? No problem! I have no feelings! Lily pooped her pants? Wonderful! Zombies love defecation! We change for dance class (at this point I have changed their clothes five times. And have i mentioned my dislocated rib? Lots a vicaden. Can't worry about that and breastfeeding though, because today IS NOT THE DAY FOR THAT!

At this point we only have two hours before Joseph gets home (Blessed be all that is good and holy) and two hours before I start teaching and have orchestra rehearsal. Until 10pm. 30 minutes away.

I've had three hours of sleep for three nights now, and today we started our morning at 430. My favorite time of the day!

So, no matter how craptastically fabulous it would feel to melt into a puddle of goo and cry until 2015, today is the day of no feelings. No goo puddle for you.

You may start to question your sanity and/or the decision making process that lead you to this point in your life. But no. You are dead inside. And those effers just keep on keepin on.

We zombies try to be pleasant. Smile when appropriate and sometimes laugh (we don't really mean it. It is Wednesday after all.) But mostly we stick our elbows out, put our heads down and plow through. Emotions in check. Until tomorrow. When all hell breaks loose.

I never said it was a perfect system.