Mental Defrag

FINALLY.
After three weeks of having my kid glued to me or being at the shop…I get a day to defrag my mind and get my operating system and disk space cleaned up.
Much needed.
And I have been super productive, not just lazing. Sweeping, mopping, folded laundry (seven baskets, how can anyone so poor have so many fucking clothes!!!), even cleaned the bathroom and swept down some corner cobwebs.
I know, right? Am I sick?

Just taxed out mostly. Three weeks of holidays and people and stress and anxiety. Hell, even going out and “having fun” kicked my ass.
For an introvert, especially someone with anxiety, having people around constantly is hard on the nerves.
When I say my kid is glued to me 24-7, I am not being dramatic at all. Even when I am sitting, she is stuck by my elbow. I can’t take two steps without tripping over her.
She climbs in my bed at night.
I literally get no space unless I sneak a shower during the two hours at night she will stay asleep. Even in my bed, she wakes up two three times a night. “I wanna watch tv.” “I want your warmth.” “I want snuggle buggle.” “Let’s play the puke game.” (don’t ask.) “Rub my belly and sing warm kitty. “Rub my back.” “Give me a tushy rub.” (again, don’t ask.)
I love my daughter, god how i love her, but she is a helicopter child, on me like static cling. And it takes a toll when what you need most is breathing room. I’m not talking in another room, silent and ignored. I just want to be able to move an inch without thinking first lest I elbow her or step on her toe.
I have had the calm conversation trying to explain personal space. Over and over. She doesn’t get it.
I give her leeway, because yeah, one parent literally abandoned her, it makes sense she might fear the other one will.
But at which point am I being empathetic and at which point am I enabling her to crowd me?

Couldn’t sleep last night. I was literally so excited about having a day to myself to regroup, I could not get to sleep. Then when I did, she woke up and climbed in my bed, making demands like an emotional terrorist. (Oops, there I go into some Homeland security database for keywords and watch lists.)
I can’t handle sleeping pills. Just can’t take them, even Melatonin. So I suffer or I buy a mangorita. (whiskey, vodka, cake vodka,hard lemonade- as long as it tastes good and calms the cyclone brain down.) But I’ve been good the last two nights. I overdid it Friday night but I figured I was due. Though I paid more for the mexican food than I did the booze.

Today I feel decent. Mood is level, anxiety is manageable. I really needed this “me time” even if it makes me feel selfish and like a crappy mom.
The counselor tried to instill in me that even moms are entitled to some alone time without needing to feel guilty.
I still do, a little.
But I realized yesterday…I’m a good mom. Not great. But good. My worst sins as a parent are being impatient and too lenient. I have a happy healthy kid who adores me. Leave mom of the year awards to those who give a damn about popularity.

It still baffles me how a night out drained me so thoroughly.Am I allergic to having a good time? What is wrong with me?
But it’s always been that way.
Call it an introvert thing, I suppose.
I am happiest at home doing my own thing and it’s always been that way, too.
I seek out company when it suits me. Most of the time, it’s just not necessary.
Does that make me sound bitchy?

Meh.

Today’s been a win thus far.
Then again, I thought that Friday until everything went to hell in a handbasket.
One hour at a time.

Defrag complete.

Odd how the human brain really is a lot like a computer.

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