I’ll put myself in timeout

In my defense, we had an infestation of mice. Y’all they built a NEST in one of my kitchen cabinets. And neither one of the people in the house who can form complete sentences noticed anything until they started leaving evidence of their shenanigans on our kitchen fucking counters. I damn near burnt the house down.

However, cooler heads prevailed. I put on the longest gloves I’ve ever seen, covered every square inch of skin in clothing and a mask and went to battle, armed only with clorox, paper towels, and sheer determination. Once we knew for sure those fuckers weren’t coming back I power blasted this house from top to bottom, and along the way discovered just how much living in this house is getting to me mentally.

The biggest fight was with myself, not the mice. I was having daily panic attacks while we were getting rid of the mice, and it took me several days after we knew they were gone to finally muster up the strength to clean the kitchen. It was honestly one of the lowest lows I’ve had in a very long time. It is so scary to think of how quickly I got to where I was, just a couple of weeks.

And then baby bear started going through several very “tough” kid things and he was just a mess of crying and not wanting to be more than three feet away from me unless he was completely passed out. Papa bear stepped up and really helped out in this area, but I’m a SAHM so the bulk of baby bear’s care still falls to me. We obviously couldn’t cook in our kitchen so we were eating really crappy food too, which definitely has an impact on how I feel about myself overall. I’m not healthy by any means, but the near constant fast food was just too much.

So when I have way too much going on and hit a low like this, I withdraw from everything. It’s physically exhausting to just exist when it happens, so I stop doing things that bring me joy. It’s a vicious cycle, one I’m doing my best to break. Before you ask, no, I was never suicidal, I just wasn’t in a great head space. If you’ve never had a mental illness the closest description I can give is think of it like a bad mood that lasts for weeks or even months/years/decades, but so much worse. It infects every aspect of your life and makes you think you’re weak for struggling. Thankfully papa bear and I have been together long enough he knows when it’s happening and we have a system in place for him to help me if I need it.

So I took some more time for myself and focused on getting better before I returned to writing. I’m sorry I disappeared, I know that wasn’t very fair of me. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I will endeavor to honor my commitment to blogging once a day.

This got longer than I intended, but apparently I needed to get this out into the universe. I had planned to do a weight loss Wednesday post, but that will have to wait for next week I’m afraid. Tune in tomorrow to hear all about mama and papa bear’s wedding shenanigans!

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