At 7:42 this morning, I reversed hurriedly down the driveway, two gorgeous crazy making girls in the back, one who almost forgot to bring her shoes, AGAIN. It is the exact latest possible time we can leave home to get to school with a chance of making it to the turning circle before they close the gate to anyone who is not staff, at 8am, on the dot. If we miss it, I have to idle at road level and the girls walk into the school grounds and up to their various areas alone. I have no problem with them doing this, and it’s no hardship, but they prefer the turning circle and I try to help make it happen for them. I should probably care less about this. I know.
“I’m sorry girls. I’m really cranky this morning.” I can’t bring myself to smile, but at least I can verbalise my feelings for them.
“It’s okay mummy,” (thank you Phemie) “we all have our moments.”
Yes we do darling girl. Is she really only about to turn 9? Is she not actually 13?
“Ooh look duckies!” That’s Reina, definitely my six year old who sees magic everywhere, and seems to filter out a lot of negativity, including my apology about my mood. I could use a dose of her joyfulness, but it’s not forthcoming.
17 and a half minutes later, a rather unpleasant and officious staff member at the school begins to place one witches hat at the school entry as I am indicating to turn in. I gesture to her if I may go in. Wearing sunnies and a poker face, barely acknowledging me she somehow still manages to convey the answer is a wordless “No, fuck off.”
I swear, next time that happens, I am going around her and dropping them off at the turning circle. Obviously this is not actually a big deal. But today it feels so unnecessarily mean spirited, and now that the anger is passing, I feel unfathomable tears welling in my eyes.
I am so fucking irritated right now, and I’ve no justifiable reason. I’m not just being hard on myself, although there’s always a touch of that involved. I actually have no reason to be irritated, and so many reasons to be grateful. This morning’s drop off incident of contained turning circle rage is absolutely nothing. My overreaction is a symptom of whatever is really going on. I could make a list of things bothering me at the moment but none of those are the problem.
For example, here’s a few that spring to mind:
–> I’m pissed off the weight is not moving despite making big efforts to lose it and be healthier.
–>I’m concerned about the CT scan of my back following chronic back pain for the past year that revealed disc protrusions in the lower lumbar region and cartilage degeneration. “You’re only 38,” my GP said, with an appropriately empathic tilt of the head. I’m feeling angry that I have this pain, and that I’m not getting my shit together to do the exercises prescribed by my physio. I’m angry that in order to remove a large, congenital, most inconveniently placed tailgut cyst (benign growth between my sacrum and rectum), the surgeon convinced me the best and only acceptable way was to saw off my coccyx and the lower 2 vertebrae of my sacrum. The recovery was brutal, although he told me beforehand that it was a “fairly easy recovery” and with regards to my coccyx, that I “wouldn’t miss it”.
–> I’m saddened by my singing teacher’s impression after seeing me for the first time in well over 10 years that while my voice and diaphragm is in pretty good nick, my confidence has taken a hit. Among other things raised, she suspects I may not have processed the trauma of the operation described above- it was in July 2017. I think she may be right, and some serious processing is clearly overdue.
–>I’m anxious about getting everything organised in time for Phemie to have an awesome birthday sleepover this weekend that makes her happy. She’s been counting down for 3 months.
–>I’m worried that I am not enforcing proper teeth brushing twice a day and that we have no sunscreen routine. Seriously, I am just beating myself up at every turn.
–>There is a huge fly that has been buzzing around the house for over 24 hours and I don’t have the patience to track it down and flatten it, but it’s annoying the crap out of me.
Honestly. I’m losing the plot. You know those days where it’s hard to smile? I’ve had a few of those lately. My dad’s response is invariably to recommend anxiolytics to relieve my anxiety. Mum’s response is to listen as I ramble when I get half a chance. Hubby’s response is to show me with his body language that he’s noticed I’m struggling and not become antsy and defensive himself. He knows it’s not about him and he knows patience and warmth invariably melt my frostiness. I am so grateful for all of them.
My response today is to stew.
And go to Melbourne Cup festivities with my parents and family friends.
Then I’ll write a list of everything I’m trying not to forget, and work through it.
Tonight, I’ll probably have a little cry and write some more.
Hopefully this funk will start to pass and I too will be waving with Reina at the duckies and wishing them a lovely, quacky day.