Perfect is Boring

My mom asked me if I could tell her when I knew it was time to get help, or how I knew it was time to seek help.

Let me be quite honest, I didn’t know. For years I’ve always thought there was something wrong with me, but I normally would blow it off and/or blame it on PMS.

Becoming a mom has been one of the greatest blessings of my life, but with this greatest blessing came a lot of anxiety. Unexplained anxiety. I used to love being the center of attention, but not anymore. I actually hate it. Everyone (remember, in my mind) is judging every move and wrong decision I make. I don’t enjoy going out to eat any longer, because I feel like everyone in the restaurant is watching us and probably saying the things 20 year old Mandy used to say… “Shut that kid up!”

I’ve never had to deal with anxiety before, and I had no idea how to do so. I get very overwhelmed, very easily. So let me go back to the week that it all fell into place, or more like fell apart.

It was a Sunday evening and MJ’s fever spiked higher than the previous three days of low grade. She was unbearable. Nothing we did could make her happy. I knew she was sick and would most likely need to go to the doctor. She hates the doctor. She throws an absolute fit every single time we go. Jake has to go along just to hold her down, because once her adrenaline gets going, I cannot control her. She’s a strong little thing!! I dreeeaaad taking her to the doctor. I would rather her just wait it out and let her body fight it off than have to go see the doctor. My anxiety cannot take it. Everyone in that office is sure to judge me as a parent. It’s as though they think I can’t control my own child. You’re damn right I can’t control her! I’ve contemplated calling a priest for an exorcism she resembles Satan so much at the doctor’s office! But… she went. It was awful. Jake wasn’t able to get off work, so his mom who was watching MJ, drove her up to me and stayed for the appointment and my dad who works in the neighboring town drove over on his lunch to help contain her. I’m not joking, it literally took all three of us. Well, let’s be honest, it took those two because I was too busy sitting in the corner crying.

The appointment finally ended and she was diagnosed with Hand/Foot/Mouth. We went home and I tried to sleep, as we had been up the entire night before. No such luck. She didn’t sleep that night either and I don’t do well without sleep. I realize lots of people say they need their sleep, but you don’t understand, I physically get ill without enough sleep.

A few days later when MJ went back to the babysitter’s, she fell on the piano and busted her face. I wasn’t sure if she’d need stitches, but I was so exhausted I really didn’t want to deal with it. I called Jake and told him to go assess the situation and decide what needed to be done, because I couldn’t function any longer. I already had to use my dwindling TOP hours at work to take her to the doctor, I couldn’t take off work anymore to deal with this.

I felt hopeless and defeated. Once again- lack of sleep makes me be irrational. Something else happened shortly after that, financially, and it sent me into a downward spiral of emotions and uncontrolled crying. I had hit rock bottom. Exhaustion,  stress, and overthinking everything sent me over the edge.

This is the point where I should have known I needed to seek help, but I still didn’t. It actually took an outsider looking in to suggest I talk to someone. If I couldn’t handle something as small as a sick child with a viral infection, how on earth could I handle anything in life?

I laughed off the suggestion of using our Employee Assistance Program; I didn’t need to talk to anyone. I’m just fine and being a hormonal girl. I’ll get my shit together.

Except I couldn’t get my shit together. Every time someone spoke to me I cried. I asked if I could leave work early and go home to sleep. Surely after I’d get some sleep my shit would be put back together. But it wasn’t.

After being reassured by a friend that all I had to do was call and make an appointment to talk to someone I would feel better, I thought… I can only go up from here. I called, made the appointment, and haven’t regretted it since.

At first I tried telling my dude (I don’t like to title him anything that implies I’m crazy- even if I am) I just had a bad week and I’d get it back together– a friend was making me come talk to him. I was still in denial. The more we talked, the more things came to light. We dove into my past much quicker than I thought we would, but the light started shining through that much faster. Before I knew it, my hour was up and I didn’t want to leave. I actually enjoyed the appointment I never wanted to go to. I said things I never dreamed of saying. I communicated thoughts that no one in this world would ever know. I mean, why not? This dude doesn’t know me and he can’t tell anyone… so I was 1000% honest. About everything. It was amazing.

Why did I wait so long to talk to someone? Why did I make someone else decide for me? If I had only known how much it would help. I wish I would’ve done this years ago, instead of carrying around all my guilt and hate. I feel like a huge weight has just been lifted off my shoulders and I can better cope with my world.

It will never be perfect, but I’m learning that’s acceptable. My dude asked me why I want to be perfect so badly… perfect is boring. There is nowhere to go once you’re perfect.

Touché dude, touché!