Lately I have been standing center stage with the spotlight blinding me at my own pity party. There are only two people on the invite list, myself and my husband. And my husband wishes he could just ignore the invite all together. It is embarrassing to say, but it is true.
I am not sure what is up. I just think that sometimes the stars align just right. They align in perfect order so that I can look at them and find everything wrong with the world. Just in line to turn a normally positive and optimistic girl into a pessimistic stranger.
That is me. The unrecognizable girl, laying in her husband’s lap in the closet, bawling for no real apparent reason, unable to pick herself up off the floor.
The stress of a bad business decision, unknown finances, an excess 10lbs that wasn’t there last year, the undeniable stress of work and parenthood. Stacking on top of each other all at once and, WHAM! The once strong and happy woman of yesterday is the dark cloud of today.
I know that regardless of my list of excuses, sitting in the closet checking off all that is wrong is ridiculous. In my moments of clarity I know that. I know that I am quite capable of getting up off of the floor, dusting the carpet lint of my clothes and wiping the mascara smudges off my face. In the heat of the moment though, I need to be reminded.
In comes husband, who provides his clothes as a snot rag, his lap as a pillow and his hands to move the hair out of my face. Soothing and listening. Reminding me that I am better than this.
When I said, “I don’t know what to do.” He replied, “Just start with what you do know.” That simple statement stuck. Start with what I know.
What did I know? I knew I needed to get up off the floor. I knew I needed a little time to myself and I knew I needed to move my body some so that I could start to feel good again. That is all I knew, but it was enough.
I am still short-tempered and falling into tears easier than usual, but everyday is a new day. I set new exercise goals, ones simple enough to do with minimal effort. I cut some pages out of a magazine for inspiration and posted them on my closet wall where I can see them everyday. I asked my husband to take over with children a couple of nights a week, so I can have some peace to think, I started writing in my daily accountability journal again. Little steps that move me in the right direction.
Through all of this, there is one thing that I found easy gratitude for. My marriage. I am so grateful that husband and I have spent so much energy strengthening our marriage. What would happen if our marriage was rocky on top of all of the stress that my meltdown has put on us? It could be disastrous.
But, all of the work we have done has helped prepare us for times like these. It has given us a real foundation that keeps us balanced when it feels everything else is going to crumble. That foundation boosts me. It gives me hope. It reminds me that I have done something right. . . . . A strong, loving, supportive, forgiving marriage. That definitely has to count for something right?
Today’s lesson in improving my marriage: Keep up the hard work. It will pay off in ways you can’t imagine