Melting Down

It seems ironic that as everything outside is freezing up, I’m indoors melting down.  It happens every year about this time – the lack of sunlight, the weather keeping everyone indoors, the post-holiday dullness enhanced by the blah gray days that the calendar says will continue for a dozen more weeks.  It all gets a bit overwhelming.  

If I’m being completely honest, it’s overwhelming to the point of possible internal combustion, that point where human contact should be completely avoided because you can’t seem to say anything without the receiving end responding “Don’t get mad at me!” or “You don’t have to yell!”.

I’m not getting mad… I’ve gone mad. I’m not yelling, I can just no longer control the volume (or the tone) of my voice.  This is me, metaphorically hanging by a few fingers from a cliff while trying to nicely tell you to pick up your ever loving sh*t for the 100^th time. 

My cliff is not a rugged rock formation carved by wind and water over millions of years, but a wobbly mountain that has grown over the last 10 years out of missing gloves, dirty laundry, unfinished projects, work and other obligations – until it grew too tall to balance on, so now I’m hanging by the thread of some sweater/backpack/blanket/toy I was supposed to fix.

It’s a common misconception that our obligations weigh us down. In fact, I think they build us up. They create our identity and we take them on to grow into the person we think we should be, or what we think others want us to be.  And when it becomes overwhelming, we cling to them and the person we think we are, even when it hurts those around us…. Because.

Because we have to?

Because we don’t want to fail?
Because everyone else can handle all this, and sometimes more, so I should, too?

So I do, until a recent chilly winter day at the tail end of the kids Christmas vacation, I was struggling to get my work done so I can make it to the grocery store and back before dinner time. The kids were fighting and my list had gone missing… and when I’m finally – keys in hand – ready to leave, a condescending voice complains that I neglected to warm up the car AGAIN.  And that little thread I was hanging starts to unravel.

I remote started the truck as the cold winter walls and closed up windows of my home started creeping in, and wondered “why is it so effing hot in here!”  Looking for an escape, I “hid” sitting on the edge of the tub in the locked bathroom, silent, hot tears running down my face – meltdown eminent.

After a few minutes and deep breaths, I felt better –  grabbed some TP and cleaned up what was left of my eyeliner before emerging to a worried daughter that offered to spend part of her gift card to buy me some coffee at Starbucks, and a sweet hug from a 5 year old as he says “Love you Mama” in a way I never want to stop hearing. 

Their love and need strengthen me, enough – maybe, to swing my foot to the side of that cliff and catch my toe on the edge of a laundry basket giving me just enough leverage to push myself back up on to the top of the pile seconds before that thread gives way.

I don’t want help. 
I don’t need help. 

I just need perspective -  a way to level wobbly Mt. Obligation to make that helpless melt down feeling a little less likely.   A new way to look at not just my to-do list, but the season.

Nothing gives you more perspective than dangling from the edge of your sanity.  For the to do list -  my game plan is prioritizing the obligations in to what I MUST do, what I SHOULD do and, finally, what I MIGHT do, making that mountain into a series of rolling hills that are far less likely to drop me into a crazed oblivion.

Managing the season will be a little tougher.  I’ve never been a winter girl. I’d much rather trade the sleds and snowmobiles for blankets and books – but after a few days of not being out of the house, hibernation in your cozy home cave can start feeling a bit like being trapped in a cage.  I think my fix is to float some life rafts on to my calendar – a night out here, an activity there, an event or two to look forward too. 

 It’s bound to be harder than it sounds, but the result will be more of the me I want to be.  And… it’ll probably save me a bunch of money on TP and eyeliner.