So, I am pretty sure this was never a top choice for a title for my blog, but hear me out. I straight had a complete breakdown. So the ‘f’ can stand for fudge ‘cause stuff really hit the fan for me.
I have struggled with keeping my house together since the children and I were here on lockdown day and night. I would clean during the week periodically and definitely on the weekends. I felt like this was all I did besides work. It was crazy! Here and there things would kinda sorta come together and I would be ok. However, not long after everything was a total wreck. I blamed myself and my kids, especially the smallest of the small ones for not doing enough or not doing it right or not being consistent with picking up. I decided to give it a rest till I had some time off to really get into it and get it done, children included.
I finally arrived to the week of a break and started my journey to clean. Unfortunately after about five minutes into it I had a complete breakdown. Screams of horror and rage could probably be heard three blocks away as I cried in the kitchen from just being overwhelmed. Everywhere I turned there was something to do. Keep in mind, I have PTSD, which I really believe is C-PTSD, and I just lost my you know what! I cried for about an hour and went to my room. My kids didn’t exactly know what to do or say. I just knew I needed a moment to just stop everything. No phone calls, or anything just some time to deal with my emotions and what was actually going on.
I realized once again I had not realized how stressed I really was. I once again pushed on and on and on. I didn’t take time to cry or get my emotions out so they all came crashing over me all at one time. I sat feeling like WTF, like for real you are too old for this type of behavior! I honestly needed to just let it out and be ok with it. I realized it wasn’t just the house not being clean all of the time but the everyday stresses too. Gettin up, going to work, getting the kids together, feeding them, making sure we had things we needed, so forth and so on. I never asked for help, feeling like my body was able and my children were too, I would dive head first into whatever had to be done.
Hours had gone by and my mother, being the caring and relentless soul she is, started calling people to see if anyone had heard from me. Call after call after call came in and I ignored them all. I thought since I had texted my mother that I was ok, I just needed some time to myself, she would understand. The calls stopped and then there were knocks at the door. I never moved from my room, paralyzed with frustration I didn’t have the motivation to answer. My oldest child went to the door and let in my best friend who came straight to my room and met me where I was broken. She and my other best friend came in and gave me the words I needed to hear. They told me it’s ok to cry and have moments and to ask for help. The last part was the hardest part for me. Ask for help….I realized when I was married, my husband wasn’t much help, so I learned to carry all the loads. I learned to be strong. I learned to do it all. What I should have learned, is that it’s ok to be weak sometimes. That hurt. Nobody wants to be weak, but you have to be in order to receive the help you need.
I feel like we all have been conditioned to only rely on ourselves. That if you want or need things done, you best handle it yourself. That’s not ok. I had to understand that and not be mad at myself or embarrassed that I needed help.
I asked for help and my friends and family were there for me. They didn’t judge me. They just wanted to help me and love me out of my grief. It was so much easier when I let go.
I said all this to say, have your WTF moments! Cry, scream journal….and then ask for help. It’s out there. People care what you are going through and want to see you happy. It’s ok to cry and ask for help. Whatever that help may be, get it….it’s ok!