I’ll just begin with the honest truth. Pretending to be mentally ok, has made me anything but okay.
It’s been close to 2 years in the making. Life has just seemed hard lately. Being a parent is so challenging, but living through a pandemic while parenting…who’s bright idea was this?
For 2 years, life has been broken promises, broken plans, broken vacations. I was suppose to go to Hawaii in July of 2020, my mind is playing tricks on me…did I really have flights and an Airbnb in Maui? Was all of that just a dream? It absolutely is a dream of mine to go to Maui, but it feels like I dreamt that I actually had a plane ticket to go. What is real life?
My mental exhaustion was disrupting my sleep, it was making me smile less and yell more. I worked so damn hard in 2020 and 2021 to put on an act, to keep all the balls in the air. But by fall of 2021, I was starting to lose it. The balls were starting to fall, but what really was falling was my happiness.
Of course I didn’t admit any of this to anyone. I’m one of the strong ones, at least that’s what they always tell me. I was one of the lucky ones. I had a stable job with great husband, a house and 2 beautiful kids. I worked from home all through COVID, so no disruption in pay when life shut down. Living the dream, they’d say.
Then one day as I was driving home in the new car we had just bought, I got that call. You know the one that you dread. Well maybe for some it would be an in-person meeting. Remember though, life was anything but normal and the office was closed for high COVID cases. My layoff came over the phone before I even got home in my new car.
It’s the first time in my life or career I have ever been laid off. If I was being honest, my gut could see it coming. Work got slow. Clients started disappearing. But my heart didn’t want to believe it. 10 years with the same company, a layoff feels like a break up, like a huge fat rejection. It’s almost something like grief.
There were tears and anger, bitterness…the normal emotions. Feelings like ‘what in the f*#k do I do now?’ Talking to God in the shower like I know I have talked to him before, especially when I had my miscarriage. “Are you serious? This is part of your plan? This is the worst plan.”
It’s been 2 weeks. 2 short weeks or maybe 2 long weeks, I have no idea. But here’s what I have so far.
I have smiled more in 2 weeks than I have in 2 years. I have taken the opportunity to play with my kids, read to them and actually enjoy their company and stay present without thinking of something that I need to get done or falling asleep. I read a book for fun and actually retained the information. I did things that I actually wanted to do instead of things that I felt obligated to do. I don’t have that dreaded pit in my stomach every single time that my phone rings that I will have to go pick up my kids from school and try to work while they talk incessantly to me. I actually talked to people on the phone, meaningful conversations with loved ones.
Of course, I’m still a work in progress. I have absolutely 0 idea what I’m doing in life or when I grow up. But I know one thing…
So here I am, I’m still standing. Most of the balls I was juggling have fallen and are laying broken at my feet. But the most important ones that I have been taking for granted are still with me and I could not feel more grateful.