So much for

So much for peace.

I had a mini breakdown. I didn’t get the full onslaught of breakdown. Just a sprinkling? A trickle? Okay, a waterfall of breakdown. I didn’t go fetal or hide in a dark closet, but I cried. I cried hard. I cried the kind of cry where you can’t speak, and when you do, the person that you’re speaking to can’t understand you. And when you finally get out the words you hit on a particularly emotional word that sends you into a fresh crying jag.

I mentioned in a previous post how we have a fair amount of stress going on around here. I believe those are the exact words I used. Without getting into too much detail I will say that it is financial stress that is making me cry and giving me a speech impediment.

We have our health. People always say that. “You have your health.” Yes, but if I’m living on the street and suffering from scurvy (because of my lack of fruit and vegetables) because I have no money then I no longer have my health. It’s a vicious cycle.

It is a time of barely making it, sometimes not making it, and then, fingers crossed, we will make it. It is the back and forth of it all that is sending me to the edge.

A few days ago I was talking to Scott on the phone about our money troubles. He is in this zen place right now. I would even venture to say optimistic. He is optimistic about our future in finances. He was away in LA on a business trip (when I say business trip it makes me feel very old and far away) where sunnyness and optimism are what you do. Maybe that’s what sparked this.

Scott: It’s like the movie, Field of Dreams. They are about to lose their house. They’re down to their last penny and then there’s the long line of cars.

Me: I hate that stupid, effin movie!!

The day after that conversation was when I had my mini breakdown. I was doing so well. So peaceful. So la la la. Well, maybe I wasn’t quite la la la, but I had a handle on things. Exercising my coping skills. Free from headaches. Not crying so hard that my 3 year old son says, “Mommy, do you have a bleeding nose?” Ummm… Mommy is just crying. This is when other mommies insert their oh so cute he loves me so much story about how her child just curled up onto her lap, wrapped their pudgy dimpled arms around her neck and said, “hang in there Mum” or something equally as sweet. (That was the made-up story Hugh Grant used in ‘About a Boy’ right?) No cute story here. My kid just shrugged his shoulders and walked away. We really value compassion in our family.

There is nothing wrong with crying. I appreciate a good cleansing cry. I haven’t fallen apart or gone postal yet. I did become completely frantic looking for something all over my house nearly weeping with the effort of it only to find said thing in an obvious in front of me place. I hate that.

Mini breakdown. It’s the new mini break.

Swept Up

In Fieldstone Artisan Breads
This place is the kind of place I want to go to every day except that it’s more than a half hour away and it would be to the detriment of me. I would become huge. Bread, pies, éclairs, Florentine squares, baked goods with lemon in them, and then the scones……raspberry white chocolate, cranberry orange, and to commemorate the fall season….the pumpkin scone which is my favourite kind of scone are all here in this divine place. It is a little bit of Heaven put here on this earth for me. If you haven’t gone and you live near here, go now. Now!

5 thoughts on “So much for

  1. curious girl (lisa)

    mmm…pumpkin scones.

    I hope you picked up a few for fortification through the blues. they are good for the soul.

    the upside to breakdowns is that they tend to be the end of that weird anxiety stage and the beginning of the “ok, let’s get down to business” cycle. I hope things look up soon.

  2. Heidi

    curious girl (lisa), hello! I did get a few pumpkin scones. I live for this time of year – the season of all things pumpkin!

    So true about the upside of the breakdown….thanks for the kind words.

  3. Suz @ Alive in Wonderland

    Hope you are feeling better today. Sometimes a good old cry-a-thon is the only way to get it out. I’m a crier. I need the tears to clear out of my head so I can think straight.
    One time I was crying so my daughter answered the ringing phone. Luckily it was my husband, “She can’t talk to you now, Daddy. She’s crying, again.” Compassion is a thing with wings for a kid.

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