Why do I go from completely fine to losing it over something tiny?

The morning coffee still tastes bitter on my tongue.

It was a great cup of coffee actually.

The bit I had of it anyway.

Before the tears started.

Before the rage began.

Before I realized how overwhelmed I actually am.

I woke up fine.

Not happy.

Not sad.

Not mad.

Just...neutral? Whatever the ordinary in between all emotions state is, the autopilot state.

Big kids off to school.

Toddlers learning what facial expressions go to what feeling words.

Ironic.

How did I get here again?

I'm resting more.

Reducing my work load.

Giving myself a pass on cleaning and groceries and meal plans and laundry.

Not even guilting myself about it.

A hard feat.

And yet.

Here I am.

Rage crying because the CEU I signed up for, paid for, won't recognize my password.

Password reset.

Password reset.

Password reset.

It doesn't even matter anymore.

My morning has been swallowed whole by feelings that apparently have been lurking under the surface.

Ready to boil up and over at a technical issue.

If there was a better trigger for me...I don't know what it would be.

Technology.

Makes me want to go back to handwriting everything.

But that's not the point.

I know it.

The computer knows it.

But how, in the love of all things, am I this stressed out?

Because I don't feel stressed out.

Until I do.

Until I feel so overloaded that I can't even cope.

Until all I have in me are the tears that are rolling down my face and the confusion and shame that is building as evidence against my very being.

Let me check in.

Maybe I missed something.

Nothing has happened.

Nothing's changed.

There's nothing big or even not big.

So then why am I reacting like this?

To a password issue that isn't even mine.

Or abnormal.

I'm resting.

I'm resting?

Maybe I'm numbing?

I'm responding to what I think my brain needs.

Maybe that's more part of the cycle than a break up of the cycle.

It's a response.

I don't know that I am actually giving myself capacity as much as I am giving myself a release valve.

Then expecting myself to be filled up again.

Ready to go through the day to day.

But the thing is is that, yes, okay, my day to day isn't a walk in the park. There are stressful moments. Work can be stressful at times, kids can be overstimulating, there's always something that needs to be cleaned or ordered or fixed.

But it's not that stressful.

And I guess what I mean by that is that I don't feel stressed out by it.

Individually or collectively.

So what. the fuck. is wrong with me?

Okay okay okay.

I can do this.

Or maybe I can't.

But I guess I'll give it a try.

What am I actually doing that I am counting as restful and afterward, do I feel like I have more capacity, less, or the same?

Outdoor time? Less (okay, did not think that was going to be the case, interesting).

Time with kids? More or the same (also interesting, would not have guessed that).

Talking to a friend? Less or same

Time alone? Less (that's suspicious)

Work? Highly dependent on what I'm actually doing but for the most part same

Yoga? More (I actually did not want that to be true but I guess I'm glad it give me more)

Scrolling? Same

I'm glad I did this exercise actually.

It is revealing.

And confusing.

But also sparks my curiosity.

Because usually alone time, historically anyway, has given me more capacity. Not less.

So, what is actually happening in my alone time?

I'm not resting.

I mean physically I am, don't get me wrong.

If anyone would look in on me in those moments they would see I was resting.

But mentally that's not what's happening.

It's like I'm bracing.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Waiting for the next crisis to happen.

Spinning my thoughts round and round so I am ready.

For what?

That's just it, isn't it?

I've probably known all along.

It's the thing I don't want it to be.

The thing that's emotionally complex.

The thing that doesn't have a ready solution.

The thing I have been trying to avoid.

The thing you aren't technically doing anything about right now.
But somehow you're still waiting for it.
Still thinking about it.
Still preparing for it.

Apparently, avoiding it doesn't mean it isn't costing me anything.

And I hate that.

Because it means the answer isn't another afternoon on the couch.
It means that thing probably needs some attention.

Already I feel my shoulders drop.
Already the tension and pain in my neck is less.

And I hate it.

But I also know, the only way through is through.

-Julia