This is a tale of two minds. The grief laden, no confidence and foggy decision making state of mind…and the instinctual, wise authentic self who makes solid decisions based on heart, head and gut…and lots of research.
It’s also a tale of blind faith – the confidence in knowing that the answers that don’t exist today will come.
The tale starts with my robotic life.
Left, right, up; forward, side, back. Left, right, up; forward, side, back.
Work, home, kids, sleep, work, home, kids, sleep…
That’s me, leading my robotic life. Moving with my emotions; dodging them in some cases.
After many enlightening moments during camp (Camp Widow, that is), and some daunting a-ha moments post camp, I crashed. It happens. Camp is a weekend focused completely on yourself and your emotions, and then you re-enter reality? Ouch.
I re-entered during a time when my life was so unbalanced, the robot malfunctioned. A tune -up regularly would help. I had distracted myself enough to ignore the ‘flashing red engine light’ but then the crack in my armour spilt and…poof! My robotic life blew a circuit.
Here’s the thing…I get in these brief mental tangents whereby I go, go, go, run off adrenaline and then crash, only to find myself mopping up the mess the following week.
Here is my list of downfalls and subsequent realizations…completely unsustainable, subhuman at times. These are not to be tried at home, or tested by the bereaved at heart.
- The failing relationship – the jury’s still out, but I’m pretty sure this has been a loooong distraction from dealing with some painful grief bursts. Are my emotions being misdirected? What do ‘I’ really want?
- The ‘mommy helper’ – I can’t come to terms with the fact that I actually need help. Hiring help is not a concept a ‘Type A, nit-picky, perfectionist, stubborn, can’t let go full-time working mom and only parent’ can get her head around! I don’t want anyone else to pick up my kids, make dinner, clean up, pack lunches, do laundry, run errands yada, yada, yada. I can do it all! Ya, not really.
- The ‘fur-daddy’ – the dog my kids are hounding me to adopt may just be another void filler I’ve now inappropriately named ‘fur-daddy.’ As much as I try to be mommy and daddy, I’m not. Am I entertaining the canine because it’s another living, breathing thing in the house? And do I want the company too?
The caffeine fuelled momma – whether it was a circuit or my Tassimo that blew, the rush of the day keeps me running on the hamster wheel from about 1 a.m. till 5 a.m. Then, when I’m fully and completed stripped of all energy, I fall endlessly into a coma only to be touched on my cheek by a little hand reminding me how important my one life is. And the mommy guilt sets in.
Now that I’ve thoroughly and flawlessly beat the crap out of myself, exposed all my insecurities and raw emotions, I tell myself something has to change. One more mental tangent would lead me to implode, to be the failure to which I fear.
Blessings to my Naturopathic doctor who helps to release the fog and re-direct my emotions and energy, and who would have me in her office as a human pin cushion if she read this post.
So, while it took me a while to come to some of these realizations, it took me even longer to make some decisions about them, but that’s the tale of blind faith.
- I parked the relationship – the focus is on what I need/want.
- I recruited some help – and dropped the stubbornness and perfectionism; it’s a double-edged sword. Now, I have more quality time with the kids and myself!
- I caved on the puppy – emotional kids and dogs can be the purest form of love; it’ll be good for them, and force us to exist in the moment…literally, I’m sure 😉
- I cut the caffeine – which actually gave me more energy as I could rest more easily and feel less wired.
My robotic life may not become fully human again for a while, but I have faith in the steps it takes, and the decisions that somehow get made, in order to get back to a life of balance and normalcy. Oh how I crave a normal, boring life.
My next challenge? Dump ALL of the remaining Halloween candy in the garbage.