Yesterday was my first official day of being a stay at home mom. You know what I did?
At 1:00 I drove down the street to my old work (yes, I left a job last year that was just down the street) and I met with a Social Worker about our youngest. I parked my composure at the door and sat in her office and put it all on the line. My worries for J, what I think he and our family needs, the stress our family has been under. It was better, and at the same time, far worse than I ever thought it would be. There was an element of relief in finally giving voice to my mostly silent worries about J and his struggles. I could tell that she really got what I was trying to say. At one point I said to her, this person who used to be a co-worker but whom I really never knew, “It might not look like it. But I am this close . . .” as I held up two fingers barely apart “. . . to having a nervous breakdown. In fact, I might actually be having one. You need to know that – because I am not always acting like myself”. Seriously?? Did I really say that? Sadly – yes I did.
Then I beat a hasty retreat, got in the car and drove to my doctors office. Where, uncharacteristically so, I waited 45 minutes in the waiting room. Tears – from nowhere – streaming down my face. I pulled myself together by the time I got called. As soon as my doctor walked in and I opened my mouth to talk I started to cry – actually, I sobbed. Poor man looked like a deer in headlights. But he sat down on the stool – which he never does – which made me cry harder – and he waited patiently as I tried to paint a picture of what has been happening. I had planned to beg for anxiety meds. He and I have had discussions before about my anxiety and depression – but I always downplayed it and we always agreed that the medications I need for my migraines trumps the antianxiety/antidepressants that cannot be taken in conjunction with the migraine meds. This time I had hoped he would pull some med out of his blackberry that I miraculously could take. In the end, he laid out the options in a very understanding and compassionate way and I walked out with nothing more than a note to be off work and very puffy eyes.
I drove home shaking and exhausted. Relieved in some ways to have the day over . . yet agonizing because in the end . . . although I was exhausted . . . my world was pretty much the same as it was when I left the house hours before.