On Meltdowns

So... I had this huge post half-way written about how when change happens, it's uncomfortable, even if it's good change; how we should accept change, roll with it, and give ourselves permission to be uncomfortable even while we lovingly nurture our souls through these tough times.

And then I woke up this morning, and it was like someone had ripped out my calm center and fried my brain. Change be darned. I freaked out, totally and completely.

There was at least one meltdown, where I started giggling at something, which turned into hysterical laughter, which very, very quickly slid straight into full-blown hysterical sobbing, tears running down my face and unable to catch my breath. At one point, I wanted to lie down in my (now mostly) empty (except for a few cobwebs and my last few unmoved belongings) and cry. And then, maybe sleep for, oh, say fifteen minutes and twelve hours. Because if I couldn't deal with the stress, at least I wanted to be able to hide from it.

There was too much stuff to do (the last of the moving; laundry - because between fighting migraines earlier this week and then frantically getting moved, I hadn't done any all week; grocery shopping - because the only "food" I had in my place was coffee, artisan ginger ale, and a leftover diet coke; cleaning - cuz I never did get a chance to clean properly after the remodeling; take a load of stuff to the thrift store; etc, etc, etc...) and way, way too little time to do it.

I never had gotten the time to finish my closet conversion, which meant that even if I got all my clothes moved out to the trailer, I had no place to put them. There was stuff everywhere. I was out of shampoo.

And I had to go to rehearsal, which takes at least four hours (almost two hours of driving time and two hours rehearsal time) and I wanted to cry, because I just didn't have the time.

All I could think about was how I was never going to get it done, and instead of going on a birthday date including the Cheesecake Factory, Clark Kent, and shopping, I was going to have to do the responsible-adult thing and stay home to finish it.

I was coming apart. At the seams.

And then... then some coffee appeared in my hand. I realized I was starving (and hadn't eaten yet today - golly, betcha that didn't contribute at all to my meltdown!) so Maggie and I got food. My belly was full, my brain was started to work again as the caffeine flooded my system. My dad told me he'd keep my family-heirloom custom-made cedar chest for me so that I wouldn't have to give it away (okay, actually that caused some more crying, but it was a different sort). Life started to look slightly less hopeless.

A friend gave me an early birthday present. And coupons for coffee. And a hug (gosh, how I needed that hug).

I went home, and it turns out I'd gotten way more done that morning that I though I had. There really wasn't that much left.

My dad took the measurements for my closet and had a closet bar installed in no time flat.

It occurred to me that my trailer looked pretty similar to how my room usually looked - a lot bit messy. And that was okay. Eventually, everything will settle.

I got my Internet up and running.

Remembered I had a sound system, and listened to arias float through the air as I hung up my clothes, marvelling at how they fit. With room to spare.

By the end of the night - which wasn't even all that late - it was done. My trailer was full. My room was empty. So was my brain. So was my heart.

There will be a lot of "rolling with it" over the next few days, as I find the holes in my housekeeping (realized today that my plan to have my family over for breakfast on Sunday and serve muffins was hampered by the fact that I do not, in fact, own a muffin tin), and some soul-nurturing as I muddle through this new phase in my life.

For now?

It's enough that at the end of a long, long day, there's sleep, and at the end of a long, long night, there's morning. :)