Some Big Emotions

Control is such an illusion; I cling to it nevertheless. But as a friend's 4 year old daughter is fighting kidney cancer, another mom friend of mine is fighting breast cancer, and then the bombings at the Boston Marathon, I'm overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness; a feeling that pervaded my childhood. I am trying to be a mother to 5 little children AND cope with some hefty baggage. This combination does not a nice mommy make.

I guess I should pat myself on the back for (finally) realizing this. I am usually oblivious to the connections between my adult struggles and the wounds from my past. My hallmark reactions when negative emotions start to surface or I don't take time to deal with my baggage are irritability and control-freakishness. Everything annoys me and my temper is short. I micromanage everything and everyone around me in a futile attempt to restore balance. It's not a pretty sight and I'm not a very nice person in the midst of this. It's incredibly difficult to snap out of it.

Today I failed miserably at stuffing those feelings back behind the wall they're usually behind. I kept trying to ignore the rising wave of sadness that needed to break and instead ended up yelling at my boys and not being able to enjoy any of my babies. That makes me angry and frustrated with myself. So here I am at the end of the day with all these spectacularly powerful emotions swirling around and I have to figure out what to deal with first.

Helplessness: I watched my mother struggle through cancer and the poisonous chemotherapy rounds that made her sick. I watched one of my brothers conquer a serious drug and alcohol addiction. I fought my own battle with depression. All of this 'bad' in addition to other circumstances has solidified my fight or flight response as always be prepared for the worst. I constantly grapple with the false sense of control I get when I feel prepared. Prepared for a child's meltdown, prepared for a flat tire, prepared for an earthquake - anything. My husband can attest to the fact that I almost always have an extra of (fill-in-the-blank) for 'just in case.'

It's times like these, when so much inexplicable struggle and loss pile up that a part of each of us feels the sting of a memory where a piece of our childhood innocence evaporated. The weight of being an adult, especially a parent, in a world that sometimes seems like it's falling to pieces is crushing. I personally have to find a way to let my feelings quickly crest and then ebb so they don't brew and corrupt my life.

Tonight I crept into each of my baby's rooms and watched them sleep for a few moments. It's amazing to me that their actions can sometimes send me through the roof but they themselves are so grounding. I always say I am their rock, their constant. But the truth is they are my little rocks, my anchors to reality and keep me sane. I owe it to them to be the best I can be, every day. I am human and certainly not perfect, but my choice not to let my own brand of crazy tarnish our relationship is a promise I have to keep.