I'm going to say the kind of thing that makes it really easy to roll your eyes (or my eyes, because I totally would) because it's so dramatic. But seriously,  I truly, truly felt like the the past couple of weeks have me on the tippy-top edge of a breakdown.

Go ahead, roll 'em. I don't take me seriously either.

Are breakdowns real? What happens? I don't know, but I fucking yelled at my baby to leave me alone  after a bad day at work and then immediately felt that thing in my throat that you get when you're about to start crying but don't really want to.

And feel free to judge me, because I judge me too.

Man. I cuddled him so hard and kissed his little face so much that night, but it doesn't matter because the words never go back in once they've come out and even if he won't remember them, I will. And I'm pretty sure that there are more bad days in the future, because duh and maybe I'll make the same mistake when he's seven and more cognizant of the shitty things I say when I'm upset.

There's a lot of things that led to that and as the feelings started bubbling over in the days prior, it's sure not the first crappy thing I've said under pressure. I just hate that I got here and that this is how I handle stress. I guess knowing is the first step to changing, and maybe this isn't the last time I'll feel like a sub-par mom, but today I'm just wallowing.

***

In resolution-ary news, I took a couple of emergency days off and called them mental health days. Yesterday, Ryan took the baby to work with him while I napped, and before we met up for lunch, I took a shower by myself, had plenty of time to blow dry my hair, and listened to really loud music in my car. It's crazy how much a little alone time can sew up a busted sanity.