Have you ever felt like your life is so intense that you never have time to process anything that happens?
Crazy things go on here all day, every day. I’ll find myself thinking, okay … my child just got bleach in his mouth. I need to process that. But before I have a chance to work through it, someone is digging around in the can of garbage containing raw chicken, and then someone is standing precariously on a tall surface, and then someone else is eerily quiet. Which is never a good sign.
My marriage and my kids and my career and my extended family and MYSELF. That’s a lot to juggle without having adequate time to process things. It feels like I have been hurtling through life for the past few years. Maybe this is what they mean when they say “it goes so fast.”
It does go fast.
I want to tell my kids to stop for just one day — just ONE! — to let me collect my thoughts. I’ve had a lot of weird things, both good and bad, happen recently and am struggling to gain my footing. But they can’t stop, because they’re children and their job is to spend their days learning how to dismantle kitchen appliances to see what’s inside, and my job as their mother often gets in the way of me dealing with my shit.
I can’t deal with my shit when I’m cleaning up literal shit.
Mothers have a deeper need for emotional and physical space than anyone else, and yet we are the ones who are least likely to manage to make that happen for ourselves.
Personally, I like to process things. I enjoy actively working through the stages of elation and grief and change and emotion because I want to feel every step. To me, that’s LIVING — because life, with all of its heartache and anger and happiness and love, is rich. I relish it.
My current processing methods are ineffective and outdated. I can no longer spend hours on a running trail walking and thinking. I can’t be alone anytime I wish. I’m a mom now. Sometimes I have to put my own needs on hold in order to deal with someone else.
Life is happening faster than I expected. Faster than I have time to process. And it doesn’t stop, not even when I say “WAIT!” I don’t know if there is a solution for that, but I do know that the Good Lord gave us wine.
And I am going to drink it.