Are you ok?

 

I have to admit that this is a rather confusing question for me. For a long time the answer was always "fine". This was not a lie - I honestly figured if I was not dead than I must be ok. I started to struggle with the actual question in the summer of 2020, when I realized that I really had no idea how to answer the question. I also realized I had no idea what kind of music I liked. And I also realized that I spiritually and emotionally starved. And the more I realized, the more came crashing down. 

Over a year later I am still trying to understand this. I have a tendency to "be ok" until a catastrophic crash happens, and then I'm not even sure where it comes from. As much as I try to pay attention, I still struggle to identify when things are wrong, and whether they are physical or mental. Last August I made a huge mistake in misdiagnosing myself as excessively anxious, when I actually had a bad case of strep throat. I was interpreting all of the strep symptoms as anxiety and depression, and pushing myself to get through them when what I needed was sleep and antibiotics. I ended up taking a relatively new medication and having a catastrophic reaction that almost ended one of my most important relationships. It was terrifying, and I haven't forgotten it. He hasn't either. I feel shame and heartbreak when I think how it almost turned out. 

Today I was not ok. I'm not sure why I was not ok. Was I overwhelmed? Am I sick? I have no idea how to tell the symptoms apart. I have no idea why today would be more difficult than any other day. I was in a brain fog from the minute I woke up. I remember the tail end of a dream where I pulled up what I thought was a dead houseplant only to realize that it was still alive. I was filled with regret and the thought that I had pulled it up too early. I became distraught at the idea that this symbolized what I was going to do to a relationship. First I thought of P., then B & D. I was filled with sadness, but as I woke up I could feel an intense sense of warmth and love, and could almost see P. beside me. I was comforted and grateful. 

It is not a surprise that I'd be having intense dreams, since A. and I both had counseling sessions yesterday which involved a complex situation with B&D that has become borderline toxic for both her and I. I am struggling, a lot, to determine whether I should step way back from the friendships or try to help. It is one of those situations where I am putting a lot of mental energy into every micro decision I make in my interactions with them, trying to determine whether my behaviors are codependent or healthy. Whether I am running away from unfounded fears, or whether I am preserving my boundaries. What is my business, what is my problem, what truly affects me and what doesn't. Whether I am supporting my daughter or enabling her. I feel like I am navigating this situation blind, and I keep asking myself what a healthy person would do. I have no idea. 

In addition to that situation, I put the house on the market 2 days ago and we had a showing already, even though it was not in the condition it should be in for a showing. I feel the way I used to feel when I would paint. I would create something intensely personal and would be horrified if anyone saw it before I was satisfied that it was done. The thing is, the paintings were never done. The minute a teacher pulled them out of my hands I would see every flaw and every struggle I had while creating it. I would feel incredibly exposed and terrified. I think this is fairly normal, but I really didn't show my paintings to many people. Showing my house, when I have not been able to put in the effort that I feel I should, is painful, and of course it is awful for A., who has always been extremely protective of her space. 

Today I slogged through work the best that I could. I had to fight with my mind to complete each and every task. I had to talk to myself, get up and walk around and then come back, smack my hand against the desk, and pull every trick I could to keep my attention on one task for more than a few minutes. I would go into the kitchen to get a drink of water and forget why I went there, then find myself with my head leaning on the refrigerator, momentarily catatonic, and wonder how I could have forgotten such a simple task. This happened over and over again, and it was exhausting just to keep bringing myself back around. I got a covid test, just in case, but I don't think that is what it is. 

While this is going on I am behind at both my jobs. I have a staff that I am leaving behind at one job and a million things I wish I could have done to make the change easier on them. I have a staff at the second job who is fractioned and anxious, and not getting enough from me. I suspect one may be  taking advantage of the situation to sew doubt in the other staff members. I need to be ahead of the curve in both cases, and I am behind. 

I try to remind myself that everything that is happening feels overwhelming and dark, but it is all in the state of moving forward. The house is listed, I am in the process of moving, I only have 2 more weeks with my first job and then I can be full time with the second, and the move will naturally put distance between me and the increasingly toxic childcare situation. The distance will either be good for those relationships or it won't - but the vast majority of that outcome is not up to me. I will let it be what it is. Even though all of these things are true, they do not change the way I feel. I try to let it go. Don't try to solve these things today. They're not going anywhere, they will be here for you when you feel better. This helps, but I'm still in the same burnt-out state. 

I got a text from an employee who was angry, I had forgotten to change his bank account to a new one, and his money had gone into the old account. He had incurred bank fees as a result of this. It was 100% my forgetfulness that had caused this. I apologized, got the correct information, changed his account, and wrote him a letter explaining the situation that he could take to the bank to get the fees reversed. I feel like shit. Then I got a call from A.'s sitter saying that she had had an exceptionally bad day, was defiant, and was scared of the tiniest bug. I apologized, promised to talk with her, and let the sitter know that she may have been on edge that day due to the counseling session and the move, but that I would still talk with her about listening. The problem is, I feel like they really don't get her. I feel like she is picking up on the toxicity there and dealing with it in the only way she knows how. I feel terrible for her, but I cannot express that because everyone else is dealing with bigger problems. Shit. 

I picked her up and there was D.'s ex-husband, rummaging around in the bushes as B. stood outside with her arms folded, glaring. He is 3 days late in getting his divorce settlement papers in and D. is freaking out, trying to figure out if she will have a place to live. She needs the money from the settlement in order to get an affordable place. Yet here he was, walking around with impunity. A. got in the car as he walked out in full view. I said something like "what the heck, is that J. farting around in the bushes again?" A. sighed and said "mom, can you just run him over?" I sat there a minute doing my very best not to run him over. Or just nudge him with the car. Just a little bit, just to scare him. Or maybe scream at him "where the hell are D.'s papers!" None of those would help the situation any, though. I told A. not to talk about killing people. "We don't run people over. That's not how we solve problems." 

This is K.'s weekend, but he got home from work late so we didn't start off to meet him in Globe until after 6:00. It was already dark. I was having a bit of trouble with the driving and the brightness of the other car lights since the eye surgery. I had to talk with A. about her listening and attitude issues that day. She tried to explain her perspective. I listened and acknowledged, then brought it back to the fact that she still has to listen when she is given directions, and why that is important. She cried and opened up about her fears and concerns, the strangeness that she was feeling from everyone, how alone and rejected she felt, and her sense of not being truly liked by some of the members of the family. I tried to be supportive while also not letting her derail the conversation and avoid accountability. I listened and then brought the conversation back around. She has always been lonely. She has me, but not as much of me as she would like. Her dad, until recently, gave her the sense that she was not loved or accepted. Her family was never enough. Now that she has found something that finally feels like a family, she is suddenly frozen out and she doesn't understand it. Yes, she should be listening, but so should they. But they are too tired, and they don't have time for the insignificant problems of a child they see as spoiled rotten. I sense some resentment on the part of the adults. 

After she was done crying she started talking quickly and nervously about anime. I was trying to listen, I really was. I passed a speed limit sign that read 45, and as I was starting to slow down I saw red and blue lights behind me. I pulled over right away, embarrassed and angry with myself. I tried to turn it into a teaching moment by showing Amelia the proper protocol for dealing with a police officer. Turn the music off. Get out your license and registration. Put your hands on the wheel and keep them where the officer can see them. No, you are not allowed to get out of the car. The officer came to the window and informed me that not only was I speeding, but I had a headlight out (I was intending to fix that the next day), my registration was out of date, and I was apparently crossing over the white line while driving. He asked if I had heard the grates when I crossed it. I said I did not. I was shocked. I wished I could have said yes, I had heard them. But I did not. What was wrong with me? He checked my eyes and asked if I was drunk or on drugs. I said no sir, just coffee. He didn't laugh. He said he would let me off with a warning, but I would need to get the light and the registration fixed. I said of course. He said "and you have to drive between the yellow and white lines." I was embarrassed as I said yes, I will be sure to do that. He let me go. I did not have the heart or the energy for another teachable moment about white privilege, although we were living a clear example, and how we need to be aware of it in order to avoid perpetuating it ourselves. There will be other times for that conversation. She is dealing with enough for an 11 year old who borders on OCD and his having her world shaken. I feel like a bad parent if I don't have the conversation. I feel like a bad parent if I do have the conversation. I'm tired, and I have no right to be tired. Other people don't get to be tired. Do I acknowledge that I am tired? Do I kick myself in the teeth and tell myself to suck it up? I don't know what the right answer is. 

I drove her the rest of the way to meet her dad. Before she left the car I looked her in the eyes and said "I want to be sure that you know that this is not your fault." She smiled and said "of course", then got out of the car. K. seemed annoyed at the delay and the fact that I had gotten pulled over, but he let me borrow his air pressure gauge to test my tires. 

I drove off, being careful to follow the speed limit to a t, aware that I may not be aware of warning signs such as the sound a vehicle makes when it crosses the white line, jumping at every car that got too close. I was grateful for the peace and silence of the ride home. I was thinking about the next day, and that I had promised to drive to Clifton to be available to anyone who showed up for an event that had been canceled. I thought about Clifton. I thought about how I wish A. could be with me to make that day into an adventure. I thought about visiting the river on my own. Then I thought about the last Father's day, when we went to the river and I wrenched K out of the beach chair and forced a complaining A and K into a rubber boat that popped after going about 70 meters down the river. After that we found a swimming hole and for a little while had fun together, like a whole, complete family would. I thought about visiting this spot to say good bye, and for some reason, bringing some of my father's ashes. I started crying uncontrollably. The strange thing was that I did not even notice I was crying at first. I sort of awakened to the realization when I noticed that my vision was obstructed. I pulled over at a gas station in San Carlos and cried, not even really knowing what to make of the situation. I wondered how many other people pulled over here to cry after dropping their kids off with their ex in Globe. 

The Gila River burns at least 5-6 times per year, it seems. It was scary at first. Now it's just another river fire - sad but not out of the ordinary. We sigh, feel sick for a moment, and then move on. It keeps wearing us down, but we notice it less and less. Even though the feelings fade out of view, they still appear in our dreams.