I talk a lot on here about the progress I've made, and the good days I've had. Because I am relieved that they keep coming. And I'm optimistic that they are becoming the norm, instead of the exception. But sometimes, I still have a bad day.
Yesterday was a bad day. Our weekend was way busier than I had intended, and Miles' schedule got thrown entirely out of whack. So, when Monday rolled around and it was time for work, Miles was not his normal cheerful self about it.
In fact, he screamed most of the day. It was miserable.
Many attempts were made to cheer the child up. Each was met with more and more screaming. Eventually, I talked a young man who works there to take Miles for a walk around Faire Site so I could think. As soon as they left the office, I put my face in my hands, and had a quiet little panic attack. How the hell am I going to handle him all summer long if he has trouble with a couple of days a week? How am I going to get anything accomplished with a screaming toddler demanding my attention? If he and I can't handle a low-key Monday, how are we ever going to manage the stress-storm that is the final Friday before we open?
If I hadn't been at work, I would have cried.*
Instead, I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I breathed. I tugged on my hair, willing myself to think about something - anything - other than the panic rising in my chest. I sat on the cold (nasty) bathroom floor with my knees pulled up to my chest, using the calm, quiet, safe place to calm down.
And then I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and exited as though nothing was wrong. Even now, when everyone knows about my PPA, I still can't admit to people when I'm actually having an attack. I don't know why. I just . . . can't.
Hours later, as I sat at the computer at home, in the quiet of the evening, while Patrick and Miles took a walk, I still felt that edge of panic. All of my triggers, all reasons for panic were gone, and yet, the panic remained, steely and sickening in my chest.
So, when I sat down to write today's post, I wanted to be positive. I wanted to be the optimistic person you have all seen recently. But, it's just not in me to lie right now. I had a bad day. And that's okay. As hard as I try, I can never make every day a good one.
Today, I will try again.
*I have this weird thing that I cannot cry in front of people I work with. I don't know why. I just physically cannot make myself cry at work. I wish I could. It would have been a nice release.