This picture is one from the highlight reel. The woman you see in it is coming off of an amazing vacation. She's happy and rested and full of great new memories and sun-kissed skin. She's part of a big happy family. That's all real.
What you don't see is the "real" after the picture. This was taken the morning we left Punta Cana after spending a week doing our favorite things with my parents in a gorgeous setting with equally as beautiful weather. We got to focus on our biggest decisions being pool or beach, buffet or sit down dinner, dancing or an early bedtime. On the day we left, I was weepy all morning, and it was easy to justify. Of course I would be sad to leave paradise and my parents. I brushed off the nagging feeling in the back of my head that while I was always blue to leave vacation, this felt a little different. I was happy, and I was fine. Maybe just a bit tired.
We coasted into home that Saturday evening and crashed hard. I got up Sunday morning and fell back into our home routine right away- get ready for church, throw in a few loads of laundry, start the grocery list. I pulled out the calendar to look at our schedule in order to meal plan for the week, and that's when that nagging feeling became a storm. The wind came first. It knocked the breath out of me, and I couldn't get it back. Then, the rain started. It trickled down my cheeks in drips first but quickly picked up and turned to a torrential downpour that I couldn't stop. I tucked myself away and fought the storm for almost an hour before it finally subsided and left me beaten down in its wake.
It took me a long time to process this. It should be blue skies over here. How could this happen, how could it come out of nowhere? I have the four most precious kids in the world who fill my heart and give me so much life. I have an incredible support system in my family and at work. I love my job. I have a deep faith to lean on that has gotten me through times much tougher than these. I love my life. I really do. It overflows with blessings.
But none of this could hold off the storm. It came anyway.
The only other panic attacks I've had are related to driving and were much more predictable. If you don't know the story of my high school car accident where a seatbelt saved my life, that's a story I'll have to tell you another day. The more I thought about this storm and dissected it, the more I realized that these fronts had been moving closer for a long time, and I couldn't stop them from meeting just by ignoring the weather report. Had I paid any attention to the forecast, I wouldn't have been so caught off guard.
All the blessings in my life bring me unbelievable joy. Each of these roles that are so important to me- mom, wife, daughter, friend, teacher-also bring with them stress, anxiety, pressure, and the fear of letting down the incredible people who have spent my whole life building me up. I'm not sure if it's possible to care too much abut too many things, but, well, I care way too much about way too many things. The things I truly enjoy are also the things I obsess over to the level of exhaustion because all I want is to get each of them right. So, I put on a smile and remind myself that each of these things is something I dreamed of and prayed for and worked my butt off to bring into existence. In doing this, I lose sight of taking care of one other important person. You know her.
I had perfect attendance first semester, and that was the least perfect choice I've made all year. Instead of being a badge of honor to wear, I have come to realize that sometimes I need to worry less about showing up at my best for work every single day and more about showing up for myself. The kids will survive a day or two with a sub. In fact, some of them will be quite delighted with a break from me for a day. Sometimes, it's okay to not show up for every single thing my own kids do. They'll survive that, too. Part of letting them try every sport and activity their hearts desire has to be letting go of the idea that I can be there cheering and documenting every second of it all. At the end of the day, I can only survive the storms myself if I make my way to the basement when too many fronts start to meet. I'm no good to anyone if I let the wind and rain sweep me away.
I think it's important to say at this point that I am okay. I know what I need to do to stay okay, and I just need those constant reminders to keep myself on that unending "to do" list. I also know that I don't make it easy for those around me to share their umbrellas. Even those most well-versed in how my brain works may miss my biggest "tell" because it is deceiving. My biggest instinct when I'm falling apart is to find others who are, too, and to do everything I can to help them keep it together. Obsessive generosity is one of my biggest coping mechanisms and also a shield I like to hide behind. No one will notice I'm struggling if I'm pouring into others in their struggle, right? In some ways, it is deeply helpful. Making others happy fuels my own happiness and tucks me under a protective overhang. In other ways, it adds to the exhaustion. There's just so much to care about. And love is an action word.
I gave myself a gift this week. I went to Lizzo on a school night and drank and danced and sang and had the best time. Lizzo was incredible. I had high expectations, and she exceeded them all. She also inspired me with her love and care for everyone in the audience, and it was clear that this started with her deep love for herself. When I bought the tickets months ago, I scheduled my first personal day of the year for the day after the concert (today) so that I could enjoy myself to the fullest, and I thanked myself for that profusely last night when I turned off my alarm before crashing wayyyyy after my bedtime. I spent today basking in the post-Lizzo glow, taking a long walk with my dog and a meaningful podcast, exercising, cooking, making something special for someone special, having lunch with a dear friend I don't get to see enough, playing and reading books with my kids, and going to the bathroom whenever I wanted. It's the little things. I also got all the laundry done because that just has a way of bookending every story, doesn't it?
Nothing that I'm sharing here is particularly original or revolutionary, but it is still important. It's important to keep it real that I have bad days, and my kids fight, and I fall apart and cry and lose myself sometimes. It's important when God has called me to a profession where I work hard to be a role model and a leader to let those who choose to follow know that it's okay not to be okay sometimes. It's important to acknowledge the storms because I have learned and am still learning and have fought and will keep fighting to survive every single one of them. When you look at that picture, know that there is so much more to that girl than what you see. It's all part of the reel and my real.
And after the rain... that's when God does his most beautiful work in full color.
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