I forgot

I’ve been doing really well since I stopped therapy and anti depressants. But today I forgot.

I’ve forgotten what anxiety attacks feel like. Either I’ve gotten really good at managing my anxiety, or I just haven’t been in a situation where I felt anxious. Today I spiraled. It was a small thing, I asked my husband a question and he didn’t answer. And I stressed and fretted about the non answer till I exploded into a mess of emotions and heart palpitations. Because obviously it’s my fault that he didn’t answer me. Logically I know it wasn’t my fault, he is a notoriously bad communicator. But I still stressed and freaked out.

It sounds stupid, but it was simply the last straw. There have been a lot of things completely out of my control the last few months and the pressure has finally got to me. None of the things are particularly stressful on their own, but combined they are doing my head in.

So I’m taking a step back tonight. I’m not available. Don’t ask me questions and don’t expect anything from me. I’ve forgotten that I’m not superhuman. I’m not a one-man-band. I can’t do everything on my own and I have to remember that I’m allowed to rely on others. If they let me down it’s not a reflection of my skills, it’s them. I’m not responsible for everything all the time. Especially not tonight. Tonight I’m only responsible for me.

The Joys of parenting

The Tomboy is teething at the moment. Such an innocent statement that doesn’t quite convey the horror of sleepless nights and the agony of trying to calm a screaming toddler down. A long time ago before I had kids I used to buy into the whole “parenting is easy” thing. That a teaspoon full of medicine will calm the savage beast. And that I would spend my weekends wandering around local craft markets or playing on the beach with my gorgeous well behaved brood. Instead I wake up covered in medicine and other unmentionable things (she likes to spit her meds, milk and mucius out when she thinks I’m not looking). We don’t eat out anymore, at least not at nice grown up places. My kids love to dive under the table and pretend that they are “camping”, The Tomboy likes to pretend that she is a dog and either licks your feet or attempts to lick the table. And lets face it, no family meal would be complete without WWIII breaking out.

I would not change it for the world. My kids might drive me completly insane but my life would be so boring without them. They spent some time with their grandparents recently and I could not get used to the house being quiet. We are so used to being in a noisy house that silence seems creepy. My life might not be what I had imagined, it is actually so much better.

When I grow up

When are you “all grown up”?  I’m 30 years old and am still waiting for that magical moment when I will finally know that I am an official grown up.  I discovered some of my diaries from my teenage years.  It was fun reading about all of my dramas and hopes and dreams for the future.  The one thing that really stood out form me was  who I expected to be when I was all grown up.  For someone that likes planning things to death I never really mapped my future out.  I made no mention of a career, relationships or kids.  I instead hoped that I would learn how to ignore the haters and stop lying awake at night wishing that I had said or done something differently. I concentrated more on the type of person that I would like to be one day.

I am still as clumsy as I was then, the only difference is that I no longer care who sees me face planting. I’m still insecure about the the way I look but I’ve learnt to work with what I have. I have given the flat iron a break and rock my curls instead. So what if I don’t live up to society’s expectations of what the perfect woman is? I (mostly) like me just the way I am.

I have always had a vicious temper, I am proud to say that I don’t fly off the handle nearly as often as I used to. I have learnt to pick my battles, I can’t fight all the time, I cannot control how other people think and behave. All I can do is control how I react to the situation. So now I just smile and count to 10 while I imagine telling the offending person exactly what I think of them.

So what is a “grown up” exactly? Someone who has stopped physically growing? Or someone who has reached their full potential? I would like to think that it is the latter. In that case I still have a lot of growing up to do. And I plan on having fun while doing it!