So I said, in my Mother's Day blog, that I had scheduled a mental breakdown at 4 PM on Saturday, and various bursts of sobs on Mother's Day. But that's not how mental breakdowns work. You can't schedule those. Those just happen.
And mine happened to be yesterday morning. I woke up late, having dismissed the alarm rather than hitting the snooze button, and immediately knew that there was no way in hell that I was going to make it to class in time. And I had to get all three girls ready--Anna-Lee always asks me to help her pick something out when I do for Addison and Arabella, but is never satisfied with the results, so I tried to refrain from doing so. I pulled the little sleeping ones from their beds and put on their clothes while they rubbed their eyes sleepily and protested.
No one wanted to get up. No one wanted to get ready to leave in a timely manner. I had all my shit together, waiting. I'm so late, and this is just too much!
[brief mental breakdown]
I wiped tears from my eyes--at least I hadn't had time to put any mascara on--as I drove the girls to their different schools. By the time I reached my school I was an hour late for class and avoided looking in the mirror before I exited the car--I knew I looked like hell. It showed on my face, it showed on my quickly-grabbed-t-shirt in the form of a previously unnoticed stain. It appeared on my feet, the sandals I had so urgently put on to fetch a pair of shoes out of the garage for Addison.
No, you can't plan those moments when the reality of life comes crashing in around you. All the hurt and pain that you've been hiding under sarcasm and witty remarks blossoms into full grief and leaves you feeling hulled out, the shell of this person you thought you were.
But, in the end, you have to suck it up and put on a smile, because your life isn't over and there are people who depend on you.
It's an endless cycle.
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