Aw, I feel brokedy and strange. Today while I was tending my boys, I suddenly realized that I couldn't quite see the right side of Gibson's face.
Not the dreaded migraine-related visual disturbance.
Soon the jagged zigzag color, bright neon was there and oh, it was not wise to be alone with those children even though what I always do is just have the visuals and then feel a bit weak and over-boiled and what if this is a stroke? What if, what if, what if?
I called Lily at work and confessed my malady, my fears and continued to cook the boys' lunch, Owen's favorite- seashell noodles with cheese and butter- and cut up watermelon and had a minor panic attack and contemplated calling my neighbor just to come and be here in case...what? I was dying? Not for me but for the boys. I thought about how they would feel, their Mer Mer passed out on the floor, their fear, their terror. The noodles boiled over and burnt.
Lily came and by the time she got here, the boys had stuffed themselves with noodles and the zig-zags had retreated but I was so tired, so weak. I crawled in the bed and thought about how I wished the rain would come again to make me feel less inappropriate to this lying down and the thunder began to rumble and then the rain did come and I slept. I slept and woke up to the rain pouring off the roof, the yard half underwater and I was so hungry and got up and ate bread and butter and then slept again.
Let's face it- I'm fried. Neurons and nerve endings, gone, sizzling, neon blue zigzags, pick up the baby, take deep breaths, even he knows something is off and Owen says, "I thought Daddy was picking me up," and I feel a failure.
I feel a failure for not being able to finish a Mer Mer shift. I feel a failure as a wife, as a woman, as a human being with the capability and opportunity for anything. Anything at all. I feel as if I should have planned more for this part of my life when things change at the pace of puberty, only backwards, but... come on. I never thought I'd live long enough to make a dream for, much less a plan for, the Rest Of My Life.
Here comes your nineteenth nervous breakdown.
We don't have nervous breakdowns any more. We just have depression or anxiety or hormonal imbalances.
Fuck that. Sometimes we do actually and indeed have nervous breakdowns.
This is the way it is. Tomorrow will be different. If there's one thing age has taught me it is that- to know that tomorrow will be different.
I think I should get back to the water and perhaps that is why I am loving all of this rain. I don't know.
I'm pinning my hopes on tomorrow. I am pinning my hopes on sleep.
I'm pining for the blue water and sky and wishing I were more prepared for this part of my life.