I didn't see it coming. I went to bed like I do every night. In fact, K was sleeping longer than normal and soundly. At 12am he woke up and because I thought it'd be easy to get him back to sleep (I have a few regular things I do), I was just gonna go in and 1,2,3 him back to sleep. But he didn't go back to sleep. So I gave him a bottle (it was already prepared, so I could just offer it and he'd roll over when done and go back to sleep with little crying). Then he kept crying. Louder and louder. And I went to give him another bottle because I didn't really know what else to do. He finished that and kept crying! And honestly, there's something in that wail that when it gets into my brain, I lose all hope, perspective, and skills for problem solving.
And I lost it. Like crazy lost it. Like only a few times in therapy have I ever lost it like that. But once it started I couldn't stop it.
It wasn't even about K after a while. It was about everything. All the stuff that I had been letting me get stressed out. It was all waiting for an opening and a few tears into it, it all came tumbling out. And furiously fast. I didn't recognize myself. I couldn't bring myself back. I was making the third bottle (the only barely sane activity I could do at the time) when the papa came down (it was his night to get sleep) to catch me before I fell all the way apart. Thank goodness for the papa.
I was shuttled off to bed to breathe and try to calm down while papa calmed K. And then he came back to calm me. I couldn't even sleep for the next hour because I was so consumed with shame, anger, frustration, sleeplessness, overwhelm, hopelessness, etc.
No one told me about this. Hell, I couldn't even have told myself about this. I've never been to this place before...in fact, I didn't know this place existed. I've endured some dark stuff. Nothing too crazy, but damn, this wasn't like that at all. At least, not that I remember. Maybe a few summers after my dad died I felt like I was being pushed underwater by an unknown force, but this felt like I tied on cement blocks...
And then after some time to calm down, some loves from papa, and my mind being able to run its crazy course, I slept. It wasn't a magical sleep, but in that sleep I found some light. And that light brought me back to the morning. And I was able to talk about the night like it happened to someone else...and I wanted to help that "someone else" and get her some professional help.
I wanted to put it in writing that I came back. That I survived. That I got help. It may not help me next time either...I'm prepared for that, but in case it helps someone else, I want it to be here. Even when it feels like no one is around, someone always has your back.