It’s Monday night and I can’t sleep. I had a migraine for most of the day and the only “cure” that works for me is sleeping in a dark, cold room. Sleeping all day leads to not sleeping at night.
This headache was a doozy. It began yesterday as a tension headache brought on by lack of sleep and an abundance of stress, and this morning at 4 a.m., I was jolted out of bed by massive pain. I truly believed I was having a stroke. Then I realized I’ve inherited my mother’s hypochondria. Next, I’m certain I’ll think every ailment is a sign of cancer.
I shouldn’t joke like this. Cancer sucks, and strokes aren’t funny.
My stress levels are crazy high because I’m still dealing with all…of…the…things. Even though I know I’m making progress in healing from my emotional trauma, I still have moments of anger and grief. If I’m not pissed about some past offense I’m crying because I don’t understand how my family can treat me so poorly and think it’s okay. Then I remember who the hell I’m dealing with and get mad again.
This weekend I spent a lot of time with my boys. It helps to distract myself. I love my kids and I love being with them, but the last two days were tough. Having a teenager, a preteen and younger child is challenging. I’m a parent of three kids in three different developmental stages all at once. Some days they have attitude. Other days they don’t listen unless I turn into a raving lunatic. And then there are the days when they don’t like each other and participating in family fun just might kill us all.
It’s madness!
But sometimes there are moments, fleeting moments, where everyone is smiling and happy and loving. Can I please have more of those days? The happy ones?
I know no one is happy all the time. That’s unrealistic. And I’d worry that my children had turned into pods if they were agreeable every minute of the day. I guess I’m just wishing things were less chaotic. Or maybe I need to stop worrying about the bad days and focus on the good ones.
I think I’m finally tired. Here’s to sweet dreams of happy days ahead.
Hey Dana Jane 