Does your brain ever feel like it’s on a carousel?
‘Cause mine sure does. Every. Damn. Day. Spinning in circles, everything lost in an up-down blur. You crane your neck to try to keep your eyes on that one something, but inevitably it always escapes your line of vision, because that carousel just keeps on spinnin’ even if you wish it would slow down, even if you want off, want the nausea to subside, want to focus on a single thing for more than a single moment. The up is moments of laughter, even relaxation; the down is that anxiety and depression creeping back in. You might feel it all in a day, maybe even an hour, and when you pass by the mirror in the hall you catch yourself and think “what the hell is wrong with me?”
Friday night it’s almost bedtime and your children are launching themselves off the furniture, demanding last-minute snacks and blasting another episode of Peppa Pig and you turn to your husband, your shoulders relaxed, and laugh because you’re just so grateful for their health and happiness and this house full of all of this amazing love.
Saturday night it’s almost bedtime and your children are launching themselves off the furniture, demanding last-minute snacks and blasting another episode of Peppa Pig and you turn to your husband, hand him the baby, scream threats of things taken away, scream about having no time to yourself, scream about the shitty state of the world and how tired you are. You scream until someone is crying, usually you, sometimes one or both of your children.
You leave the room, catch your breath, come back and issue apologies, hope they’ll forget, hope you’re not completely damaging the best things that have ever happened to you, that make you whole, that you couldn’t go on without, but then you beg everyone to go the hell to bed before you go for round two. And an hour later when it’s completely silent you sit in front of the television watching a mindless reality show and asking yourself if it was worth it to get to this point. Are you good enough?
Sunday night it’s almost bedtime and your children are being children – happy, healthy, filled to the brim with pure energy – and you turn to your husband, shoulders relaxed, and laugh.
It’s a wild ride; hang on tight.