What Does Insanity Look Like?

***Insert picture of me here.

 

• I have been moved to a harder, more time consuming, and sanity leeching job at work.
• I have two girls who are involved in a lot of activities (or at least it seems so when it is the end of the day and I am really tired).
• My family has suffered the sharp knife of a short life recently and I am taking that really hard.
• I have a longer drive to work (which is really hard, even though I used to miss it).
• I have, not exactly voluntarily, stopped going to therapy (and thus have just ran out of meds).
• My oldest has started showing signs of depression, again.
• (And this is kind of ridiculous, but...) even joyous occasions hit me as really really heart wrenching.

 

I know that I have been struggling with a lot lately, but this is ridiculous.

 

Now, I am really losing it!

I will be honest, I am a control freak. No matter how much I try to fight it, I have to be in control.

So, (partly because of my freakiness and partly because it's the only way to make sure my youngest looks decent) I match up her clothes as soon as they come out of the dryer and I even store them in her dresser as "outfits". I didn't even realize it until this morning, but I do this as my contribution to how she presents herself to the world. I do this out of love. I do this for her, not even completely for me (as I thought I had). So, when I find her in an outfit (if you could call it that) that I did not match up (which translates to: I DIDN'T MATCH), I had a hissy fit.

Now, luckily, my children were not home to witness this (as they had already left for school), but I am sure that they will figure it out tonight when they come home to find the mess I left.

I went into my youngest daughter's room to put away more clothes, but I ended up emptying every drawer that did have a nicely folded and stored outfit. Now, we are talking about four drawers of clothes.
 

I emptied all of those drawers into the middle of the floor and left them there.

But, that is not even the insane part. The insane part is my thought process as all of this is happening. (I have only every experienced this once before, which is two times too many, so bear with me as I try to describe it.) It did not feel like me. I was so angry and hurt that I couldn't process it. I just took action, any action, but I was not connected to my body as I did it. Can we say LOONEY BIN?