Last weekend was so incredibly awesome. It was beautiful, sunshiny weather. Friday after work a couple of girlfriends stopped by for a couple of beers. Saturday Steve and I took the kids to White Rock to the beach to show Ruby the ocean because she had been asking questions about it. I took some absolutely gorgeous pictures. We ate fish and chips outside on a patio and Steve and I enjoyed a beer together. We stopped for ice cream cones before heading home where everyone had a nice long nap. Sunday my parents asked to have the kids overnight and I had a day to recharge and get a bunch done in my house and then a quiet evening on the couch with Steve on Sunday night - we never do that!
Monday was a holiday and I felt really calm and refreshed heading into work on Tuesday.
I was at work for about an hour on Tuesday when I felt all that happy, zen draining from me. All week I kept meaning to write a post about how great my long weekend was and how I felt like I had turned a corner after all the stress of the previous weeks, and I was proud of myself for how I handled things. However as the week progressed, each day I felt less and less well (and less and less interested in writing a post). I'm not sure if my body wasn't quite as recovered from the hit of stress as I thought it was but I got totally sucker punched by "the reason". (Which was four days late - talk about a complete mind fuck). My mental and physical health went for a total shit and it spiralled from there.
My rotten feelings and moodiness stretched into this weekend despite my (weak) attempts to conquer it. I was uncomfortable - in actual physical discomfort (sore back, stomach ache and a terribly achey body) and my mental health was fucked. Friday night I woke in the middle night after having a vivid dream that I was extremely ill. All weekend I was tired and sketched out, anxious and miserable. I would have crawled right out of my skin if I could have somehow done that.
Parenting was a complete struggle. I couldn't click with my kids all weekend. Not sure if they sensed I wasn't right and cranked up the bullshit or if I just sucked really bad at being a mom. Either way, there is no mother of the year award heading my way based on my performance over the past few days.
I won't get into how my relationship with my husband was all weekend (mostly because I'm not allowed.)
On Sunday the damn broke at least 3 times before noon and each time I was a sobbing, snotty faced, emotional mess.
I really did not see all of this coming and I'm still not 100% sure why it happened but I'm sure ready to move out of it. I need to get through it, it's been awful.
I'm going to turn to my usual sources of healing - getting outside, getting the house in order, exercise, writing, time with the kids (when we're not all yelling and crying), early to bed (hopefully). And I will hope and pray that tomorrow is the start of a fresh, healthy, happy new week.