The Timeline of a Nervous Breakdown (Day 105)

Today, I found out that a nervous breakdown, while not a medical diagnosis, is definitely a thing that can happen on a Thursday. Remember in the 1990s when people would talk about nervous breakdowns? Like it was a real thing? Well, now Mayo Clinic refers to it as a "so-called" nervous breakdown (as if imaginary!) 

Well, I think the nervous breakdown is alive and well in 2021 along with several new and mysterious variants of COVID-19! 

According to several very official medical websites, they now have more official names for nervous breakdowns. I researched those things and I definitely don't have those. 

But, I did have a very, very, very nervous breakdown like day, today. It all started early. 

2 a.m. One child wakes up screaming about their locker combination and has to be carried from their bed to avoid waking up sibling. 

2:45 a.m. I am back asleep. One child kicks me in the ribs 3 times and then takes my blanket. 

4:30 a.m. I am up with the moon for Crew. Rowing child has nervous stomach ache. I immediately believe this is a shunt malfunction, while quietly panicking

4:45 a.m. As I perform my amateur neuro check, I am relieved to realize that my child has a nervous stomach. But, the panicky feeling won't leave. 

5:00 a.m. I planned to begin working; but after the 2 a.m. locker combination/bed removal situation I am tired and sore from lifting 90 lb child.  I go back to bed and have nightmares about my own locker combination. Does anyone know if it starts with a 36 or a 39? I'LL NEVER KNOW AND I AM GOING TO BE LATE TO CHEMISTRY. 

7:00 a.m. My third week-up call of the day. I consider showering, but I realize I cannot do it. I only leave my bed because all three children need to go to school. So, I change out of my flannel pajamas into leggings. 

7:15 a.m. Nervous stomach refuses to go to school, citing ongoing nerves. The 2 a.m. child is still complaining about her locker combination. The rib kicker is already dressed and getting in a quick round of Fortnite. I sleep at dining room table for 15 minutes. 

7:30 a.m. I write a letter to school explaining nervous stomach, shunt fears and make it clear no one has COVID. 

7:45 a.m. I find flip flops and shake out hair and use a napkin to wipe eyes. I mouthwash with coffee. 

8:00 a.m. I leave with two children. One forgets lunch. The other forgets iPad. 

8:05 a.m. I leave again with same two children. Both promise they have forgotten items. One is lying. 

8:10 a.m. I observe parents at the Middle School dropping off their children in the one spot directly by door. I drop my child off far away and ask her to walk while reciting her locker combination. 

8:14 a.m. The liar is revealed and there is no lunch box. 

8:35 a.m. Have first call of day with a delightful colleague. We get a lot done. I feel like maybe I am not having a nervous breakdown!

9:20 a.m. Receive two emails from school recommending a COVID test for nervous stomach. I delete them and I will deny receiving them. Of course, I just wrote my intentions here. (may this is a test to see who reads my blog!) 

9:35 a.m. Receive mysterious call from mother who is at the credit union and needs to know how much she paid in state taxes in 2017. I explain I do not have those figures at my fingertips. She explains this is a business question and I need to be more professional. I begin yelling things that make no sense. Panic builds again. 

9:45 a.m. Decide mother has dementia and the universe is out to get me. Cry at dining room table, while realizing dining room table has basically become my bedroom. Cry more that I sleep at a table. 

10:00 a.m. Pull myself together for second call of day and behave professionally! Keep wanting to share all my problems with my colleagues, but realize this is not the school drop-off line and I need to save my problems for the dining room table. 

11:00 a.m. Hang up from very productive call. Send some emails. Drink more coffee. Realize there is glass lodged in my foot. Google: "How long can you live with glass in your foot?" The results scare me and I begin Googling "Foot Amputation." Decide to cry more at the table. 

11:30 a.m. Realize I have napped at my table bed, again. Remember need to bring lunch to the lunch box liar. Order Wawa curbside, because lunch is missing. 

11:45 a.m. Deliver lunch. Fall while tripping over thin air next to my car. Quickly do an inventory of injuries from the day: sore back from locker panic; glass in foot from walking; sore legs from thin air tripping. Wonder: "Will I make through the day?" 

11:55 a.m. Arrive home after driving very quickly to get to my table bed. 

12:00pm. Old friend calls. Day is saved. 

12:30 p.m. Arrive to middle school for pick up. There is a concert like vibe to the pick up line. Wait in line 20 minutes. Finally retrieve child on street corner. Child remembered locker combination!

1 p.m.-3 p.m. I don't remember this time period. I think I did some work? I certainly thought about it. 

3:15p.m. Return home from school up. Notice very few infractions at elementary school! Briefly feel like a hero. 

3:30pm Chat on phone with other friend, who has a grill moving emergency. Decide must quit current jobs and focus on gardening. Then decide I do not want to quit jobs; think about becoming a garden writer. Decide I am not a garden writer. End call confused. 

4:30p.m. Shower! Feel like nervous breakdown is making its way out of house.  . 

4:30p.m. until now: do all the evening things. Google Nervous breakdown, while growing very agitated that a nervous breakdown is not considered a real thing! After all, there was nothing so called about today. Think about what blog to write and land on this blog, which might concern some people. 

Decide to remove glass from foot and to embrace life with two feet! Decide I am a bad ass if I can survive this day and decide not to quit anything; just to maybe sleep with ear plugs. . . .