When a Break Isn’t a Break

I crumbled to the floor and started to cry.

‘Why?! Why did you do this?!’

Didn’t they realize? Couldn’t they see what this was doing to me?

As I descended the stairs that morning, my first thought (before I’d even had my first cup of coffee) was how the day’s potential had in that moment been decided, and it would consist of  righting things that I had just righted yesterday. Not moving on to fun activities. Or, even to the next things on my list.

Oh yes. With me, there is always a List.

Now let me just say, in hindsight, another person might get annoyed, make the kids clean it up, and recognize that the day, in fact, had NOT been ruined, but had only been sidetracked. But that is not what happened.

We were heading to a hotel immediately after the show and leaving our doggies home with a sitter for the weekend, so making sure things were ‘up and out of the way’ took on a new importance. For many anxiety-challenged people, like myself, having the house clean and neat when you leave for a trip is a must. Unlike other people who may feel energized or renewed by spending time with people, or going on outings, I can only take so much before I need a break… from everyone and everything. And I know that when I return home, I’m going to just want to relax. But if I open the door to the house and there are dishes to do, trash that hasn’t been taken out, and a pile of laundry to tend to, in addition to the unpacking and kid wrangling…watch out. Its not going to be pretty.

To be fair, it isn’t ever really the house, the chores, or the kids at all. It’s the lack of control.

I need order. I become overwhelmed easily, and because of that I try make sure my schedule is not going to be too much for me to handle. I’ve always needed this delicate balance. Look at Little Miss Goodie Two Shoes right there…

In HighSchool, I distinctly remember how I carefully crafted my schedule so that I did not have too many extra curricular activities. For these exact…same…reasons. What I have learned about me, is that I can deal with even the most intense situations. Temporarily. But if it starts to be too much, and I become overwhelmed, I will fall apart. In a big way.

Long ago, I came to the realization that my need for a clean house, and order in general, is tied to my need for control. So while I might have felt as though my family was pushing me to the edge, just 4 days into our 3 week break, I recognized that there was something else going on here.

Enter the Guilt.

As I try to frantically organize things to ease the building panic, the messes from my family, who are now at home, not at school or work like usual, chase me until I surrender to the certainty that it is hopeless, there is no one who understands my feelings, and most likely everyone is just quietly irritated that I’m freaking out… Again.

This is not new for me.

It took me a minute to get my bearings after moving from NY back to California about 4 1/2 years ago. I decided that the way out of my funk was to focus on the things that were important to me. Eventually, I was able to find a new normal, volunteering at my children’s school and joining the PTA. Last year, I went through the training program to become a volunteer at the local Animal Shelter. But the biggest impact in my perspective shift was starting my blog.

I asked some friends for advice on how to begin, and then turned to that handiest of sources, YouTube, to figure out how to create a website. It took months, but I finally got what I call ‘The Machine’ up and running. It was a place that was completely me. I chose the layout, the colors, the subjects. I had a place to explore my interest in food, I could contemplate life’s issues, and I could write essays on topics that moved me. My blog has been a place where I could say whatever I wanted, exactly the way I wanted to.

About 3 months ago I was called upon to take over as our school’s PTA President during a rather tumultuous time. Believing that each experience is an opportunity, I took it on. I knew going in, that this transition was going to take all of my efforts. But I thought the load would even out.

Now my days are filled with PTA stuff. My ‘To-Do’ list revolves around tending to the multitude of issues that arise from every direction. And all those things I brought into my life to bring me back to balance…the things that I love, that move me, that fill me, that inspire me…have turned into chores that get a time slot on my daily schedule, and are raced to and from, in between the other daily tasks.

As I sit here writing, its Christmas Eve and I’m having my second breakdown about the messes. Ok. Message received: I’m feeling out of control.

Cue the guilt again. The guilt that I’m ruining the day, Christmas Eve no less! The guilt that the mess issues are really only just mine…and are irrational! I’m not saying they were completely invalid… Just maybe inflated.

But then the anger and resentment sneak in. Being a stay-at-home Mom revolves around arranging things so that everyone gets what they want and need. I do the grocery shopping, gardening, laundry and cooking. I set up the playdates and the extra-curricular classes and activities, drive everyone to and from said activities, make sure they have the right equipment for the activity. Prepare the fun outfit, hairdo or item for the special day at school, make sure they have the materials they need for the next project, and work to ensure that their childhood days have the right balance of love, learning, and personal growth.

But I need order to function. Doesn’t what I need mean something? I know that complete order in a house with 2 kids, 2 dogs, and 2 fish is impossible, but aren’t efforts that are solely in service of ‘helping mom feel better’, worthy?  I tell myself that I’m going to start looking out for me more and stop thinking about everyone else so much. ‘Maybe its my bad for doing so much in the first place.’ I also think that people see the energy I project, and read it as ‘everything is fine’. But really, I just feel a responsibility not to spread my gloom into other people’s lives. So, how is anyone supposed to know I’m struggling? Isn’t that the question.

I have to say, while I am definitely looking forward to the routine of the school day returning (maybe not so much the waking up part…) I do feel like this ‘break’, was in some ways renewing. In other ways, it triggered all of my ‘Only-Child’ particularities, which require me to have LOTS of  alone time. And unfortunately,  alone time does not happen on a holiday break at home with the kids.

But… it did allow me to just stop… at least some of the stuff… and its felt good. It gave me some time to think about things. Maybe, I need to stop getting disappointed that people aren’t seeing my cracks, and instead provide opportunities for them to rise to the occasion. I’m pretty sure I am not the only person that can do a job well.

I still think that everything happens for a reason, so I believe that this journey, even the falling apart stuff, happened for a reason.  I also know that the things in my life that made me happy before, aren’t gone, they are just covered up. And it is within my control to uncover them again.