I cannot live through another moment like the shitshow that was my morning. We’ve been painting our kitchen, which is frustrating in itself (I literally cried myself to sleep Saturday night because I’d been taping and painting for 14 hours, without stopping to eat more than a doughnut, and I couldn’t see an end in sight). As a result of me spending all of my time focused on that project, the rest of my house has fallen apart. We’re talking a mess of epic proportions. There’s garbage, clothes, and toys on every surface, every piece of furniture, every floor. I have anxiety about it. Like, I left for work this morning, terrified that some stranger would peer through my window and call the Children’s Aid Society on me.
Had CAS come around 6:45am today, they would have DEFINITELY petitioned to have my children taken away. I was a wreck. The kids were a wreck. We couldn’t find any one of our 3 hairbrushes. I was kicking and throwing toys out of my way, desperately searching for the most basic crap we needed to get ready, yelling at the kids to put their shoes on when they were already wearing them. At one point, I told my whining 7 year old that I’d rather die than brush her hair (who says that?!). Now that I’m removed from the situation, I realize how ridiculous it was, but at the time, my anxiety was through the roof. Anxiety that could have been prevented if I had a) woken up earlier, b) made lunches the night before, c) made the kids clean up after themselves while Chase and I were painting the kitchen, d) taken the time to put the hairbrushes away the day before, e) not put so much pressure on myself to get this painting job (which is STILL incomplete) done in a weekend… I could go on. The point is, it was all 100% avoidable, and all 100% my fault, and rather than just take a breath, I behaved like an asshole.
Oh, and then I got to work, only to get a call saying that my youngest vomited at school. So there’s the added guilt of knowing that I yelled at a sick 4 year old.
I feel absolutely, rock-bottom terrible. On the bright side, now that I’ve hit the bottom, the only way to go is up. And up is where I’m headed! The New Miranda/Depression Cycle begins anew. I took the afternoon off to take care of Sprout, and I’m hoping she will nap for a bit so I can put the house back in order. Maybe clean a bathroom or two. Put a routine together so I never EVER have to feel again the way I did on my way to work today.