And most days I do. Have it together, that is.
Most days, I can be patient.
Most days, I can be nurturing.
Most days, I can breathe.
Today was not one of those days.
This morning, as the chaos of our morning routine swirled around me, I had one of those mom-moments where I thought I would scream if I had to repeat myself one. more. time. Or if I had to settle one more argument, or yell at the dog ever again. Kids talking. Dog barking. Phone ringing. It's the kind of craziness that I usually relish because it is my home and family that make it.
But I suddenly found that I couldn't catch my breath. The more I struggled to take a deep breath, the harder it became, and the more stressed-out I got. It felt like I had tight bands around my chest, preventing me from fully inhaling. I stopped what I was doing, left the room, and tried to pull myself together, only to turn around and find that the craziness had followed me from the kitchen. And they were still fighting. And barking. And ringing.
I had reached my limit and the bands around my chest began to squeeze in earnest.
I've dealt with mild anxiety before during stressful periods of my life, and I've always been able to control it with exercise, prayerful meditation, and simple breathing and relaxation techniques. But it has been a long time since anxiety has reared its ugly head, and I was not prepared for it, although I should have been.