Saturday, December 5, 2009

I'll be fine & dandy ~ Lord, it's like a hard candy Christmas

Yesterday morning at 7:34am my son turned 11.  My son had planned to have a few friends sleep over and he gave a list of things he thought would make is party a success.  On the list were his favorite foods, a new WII game, some balloons and soda, and don't forget the ice cream cake! 

What was not on his list was: mother having mental breakdown in the middle of the party.  Or, if it was on the list, it was written in invisible ink that only the 5 year old could read and check off.  Around 8:00 it was a struggle to keep the tears at bay and my daughter turned to me and asked, "Mommy, why are you about to cry?"  I told her I wasn't about to cry and she told me my eyes were watering.  Oh, it must have been the light because see now, Mommy is fine. 

But by 9:00pm I could no longer hold it together and spent an hour on the bathroom floor, curled up in fear, and bawling like a baby.  That was when I called the therapist.  I knew she couldn't talk then since she was at the hospital, but I was desperate - it was my son's birthday for God's sake and I could not pull it together!  So I left her a voicemail to please call me back.  She did call me back on her way home.  I had stopped crying by then and was really just numb, void of feelings and emotions.  I really appreciated her calling me back after she left the hospital. Even though the immediate crisis had passed, I was able to sleep after talking to her.  I still have not SId (over 2 months)...I think about it, and it's so hard to fight the voice telling me I need to do it, I will feel better, at least at first.  But last night, I made a different choice.  I called the therapist instead.  On most nights, I would have said that was actually the weaker move but for some reason it didn't feel like that last night. 

I'd be kicking my own ass if my son had noticed my mentalness last night, but thankfully, he and his friends were in the basement playing games until well after 2am and he had no idea what was going on outside of his little world.  I try so hard to keep it together in front of DS & DD...and at times it is such a challenge.  I don't want them to see me as I saw the host body.  I used to look at her and think about how weak and pathetic she was - a stupid lazy drunk!  I have many moments when I think I'm pathetic and weak - but I never want my children to see me that in me. 

Now I just have to make it through the the hus's Christmas party...4 hours till the Sleigh Bells begin to ring...and I think it will take that long to figure out how to hide the dark circles under my eyes...but I suppose that's better than hiding a self-inflicted wound. 

The holidays are just hard...But I woke up today - just like yesterday, another chance to bounce back...


  1. My son turned eight seven months after I was sexually assaulted in October of 2007 and I was still going through repeated panic attacks for five hours a day. No sooner would one stop than another would start. I took him to the Children's Museum and spent the whole time wishing I could enjoy watching him have his birthday fun with his friends instead of trying to hide the fact that I felt like I couldn't breathe. This was one of the worst years I have ever endured. It's a horrible thing to have to hide this kind of terror and pain. I feel for what you are going through.

  2. I know what a big load of very hard work it is to keep it together for the kids when the situation inside is so dire. This is probably one of the hardest parts for me, simply because it is so important.