Was it really ever gonna be anything but this?

Curious as to how my day is progressing?

Let me tell you: having woken up late, breakfast was late, which means I was late taking my medicine. Choo-choo’s naptime was late because I wanted us to have time to play and have fun.

Then the neighbors chose that very moment to start work on tearing off and fixing their roof. This meant saws, hammers, and whatnot were busy filling the air with noise. And the men talking, of course. Their voices traveled the short distance through our walls and windows into Choo-choo’s room.

And the horn. I can’t forget the horn. Someone decided honking their car horn over and over for an hour was a great idea.

Of course, Choo-choo wouldn’t sleep in all this. He called me back to his room three times. The fourth time he called, I lost it. Instead of heading in there and probably yelling at him, I stood over the stove eating a giant chocolate chip cookie while crying. I cried some more while I shoved my face full of crackers.

All I had wanted was some quiet. A little silence. So,e peace of mind and body so my body would stop trembling and my chest would stop hurting. I wanted to take a shower and relax.

Then Diesel came home from work. He put a few groceries away, as he’d stopped at the store first. I asked him how he was. He answered, blew me a kiss, and was gone, outside yet again, this time to help the neighbor with the aforementioned roof. No questions of how I was or how my day gas been. No question of if I felt better or not. Nothing.

And I lost it again. I sobbed. Loudly. This caused Choo-choo, who was of course still awake, to sob as well. Then came the repeated cries of, “Mommy Bear, I want a tissue!”

When I say repeated, I mean over and over and over. Answering him does not making him stop asking, which only makes me cry more.

So much for my peace and quiet. So much for my shower as well.

If you find my sanity wandering around somewhere, I’d appreciate it if you would return it to me, as I can’t ever seem to hold on to it anymore.



Author: stepbackandbreathe33

I am a writer, mother, wife, and fighter in the battle against depression, anxiety, OCD, and PTSD.

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