Arrogance

This post is embarrassing. Humiliating, really. But, I've promised honesty--not that I'd be admirable or make the right choices the whole way through. So, here we go. This is honest. And I made a very, very bad decision.

The first thing that went wrong was the fact that neither George nor I have slept much in the past week because of William's incoming molar, so I was already operating from that "short-fuse" place. I could be in a great mood, as my last post evidenced, but it just wasn't going to take much to send me over the edge. I knew this. I knew this all along, and really? I was dragging my feet on counseling? Really? I knew it would take one missed nap, one temper tantrum, one bit of bad news, or whatever you can think of, to plunge me headfirst into crisis once again, and still. I hesitated.

William cried through his afternoon nap. Two hours of wailing, writhing around like he couldn't take the pain in his mouth, and I'd already given him Motrin, Tylenol, Orajel...the works. Compassion got me through the first hour and a half. After that, I was through the roof. Didn't know what to do. Called George home from work because I was worried about our poor baby, but also because I absolutely could not take it anymore.

I slept for three hours when he got home.

Later, since he missed his nap, he fell asleep in his dinner (literally...pretty entertaining, actually) and slept for an hour or so. He woke up again at 7:40 pm, right before George had to leave for a program on campus, and he didn't go back to bed until 8:40. I know that could have been much worse, because it has been before, but I came back downstairs completely on edge. You know that feeling, when you put your baby in his/her crib, and you're like, pleasestayasleep, pleasestayasleep, pleasestayasleep...yeah, I know that's normal. But I was feeling the whole day at that point. I felt like such an idiot that I had such a short fuse, that I had to call my husband home from work because the baby was crying. How in the world is he supposed to hold his job if I kept it up like this?

And then, the spiral. Here goes my mind: I'm going to ruin his life. He's going to resent me. The kids are going to resent me. I'm going to ruin all of them, this can't turn out well, there are no good options, I want to die. And there it was. In one day, I went all the way from "what a great morning!" to suicidal.

And this is why I have been an arrogant fool. I knew. I knew how delicate I was, and yet I thought I was smart or healthy or who-knows-what enough to drag my feet on finding the perfect therapist. I was sure I already knew what they'd say, or thought I'd be strong enough to treat therapy as an option, or a formality, or just something I promised my husband I'd do. Foolish. Absolutely foolish. Because now, although George came home last night and we had a very, very good, mind-saving conversation, and although I feel fine right now, I still need to find a counselor. If I had one already programmed into my phone, one I'd already seen a few times, I could be at an emergency session today. Or, this never would have happened.

So, today's goal: find a therapist who is in town, taking new patients, and covered by our insurance, make appointment asap. Now I don't have time to find someone specialized, or even someone good. Any of you who may share in my struggle to any degree, I want you to learn from this. Do not let this happen to you, even if you feel perfect today. Get yourself in therapy. Now.

For those of you who are close friends, and, um...Mom, you don't have to call me, panicked, thinking I'm standing on the ledge right now. I'm not. I want you to know, even though you have no reason to trust me with my mental health and general well-being, that I've been shaken enough to do something today, and take it all the way. I'm not talking about leaving someone a message. If I can get an appointment for, like, ten minutes from now, I'm on it. Unshowered and everything. I'll bring the kids in the room if I have to. I know I need this more than anything right now.

And to everyone, especially my family, please know that I am deeply sorry for taking you so lightly and for being so careless and arrogant. I'm not letting that happen again. I will get myself repaired.

No matter what it takes.