The walk helped but only momentarily. As soon as I sat foot on the school grounds my bad mood returned, with a vengeance. My oldest and his younger brother had been in a fight and they were screaming and yelling and their stories just didn’t add upp. So there I was, already fuming surrounded by these short people crying and blaming each other. Ah, the joys of parenting. Managed to get that sorted and we went to pick up the rest. Then the usual chaos and mayhem started when we came in the door. Ipads, homework, baths, snacks, singing to loud, lost crayons, chestnuts, bags, clothes and shoes all over the floor and me trying to help everyone while cooking a nutritious meal. THIS is my witching hour. When I try to help everyone and cook at the same time. It’s just so incredibly boring. It’s like I’m not even a human being anymore, just a robot that has been put on this earth to serve them and I desperately want an excuse to not listen to their every word (not when they talk to me – when they talk to each other. I still haven’t figured out how to shut my ears so I hear every good damn thing they utter. And believe me, that’s a lot of words in a day.) to stop listening and worrying and feeling the need to cut in and correct them, to be MYSELF. ME! again, not just the servant who cooks and cleans and tells them how to behave. So there I was and all of a sudden I had moved the chair and jumped up to have a look in the wine cabinet. It happened so fast, I almost wasn’t aware of it until I was already up there. Thankfully it was empty and I felt a bit shaken actually. I climbed down and went to the fridge and then more or less inhaled four sausages. Just chewing, not really tasting them, just gnawing away. Like I literally ate my feelings and pushed them back down. I’ve never claimed to be original but this was just so … Yeah. Expected in a way. I just couldn’t cope with the unpleasantness of feeling so angry. I couldn’t manage it, handle it. So I did what I’ve done for as long as I can remember, I tried to numb the feelings. And sadly it worked. I felt better and could go on with my evening.
Then I got so upset and disappointed in myself for doing that. Disappointed, like I failed in coping with the anger. So I did what I have done for as long I can remember, I beat myself up, had the inner voice tell me how crap I am, a failure, a stupid incompetent person and so on and so forth – the usual. I e-mailed a friend from my phone and told her how embarrassingly bad I had handled having an uncomfortable emotion for so long, sent it and then all of a sudden my mind cleared. I called my husband and told him to buy some food on his drive home (Burger King, because I’m classy like that), I sat down in the sofa with my Kindle and the kids spread round me and I read while they watched their favourite show. And in that actual self-care moment, I realised I hadn’t failed at all because my main goal right now is to not drink. And I didn’t drink. I definitely ate more sausages than I would have liked but who cares in the long rung? I’m very, very sober and actually a wee bit impressed that I didn’t force myself to cook something (be the perfect mother you know, the one that hates doing it so much that she gets snappy with everyone and eventually becomes a drunk just to cope with being such a good mother) and stay isolated in that kitchen but did something that was better for me: reading and sitting next to my babies.
So. Unpleasant feelings vs Me 1-0, but Alcohol vs Me 0-1!
Now I will probably fall asleep, I feel exhausted and it’s 8 pm. This is really happening, this is really … a thing. Soberizing. Good night, m’dears.