I reached a point last year where, as a mum, I had flexed so much that it was impossible to bend any further. I had reached breaking point. I had given up my career, given up my hobbies, given up exercise routines, I was having to cancel activities where I would usually get my social/connection fill, it had reached the point where there would be stretches of days and days in a row where I couldn’t leave the house. I was constantly in a state of hypervigilance, devoting all of my time and mental energy to co-regulating, to prioritising my son’s needs over my own.
My cup was empty.
One day I admitted to my husband that what I was doing wasn’t sustainable and we needed to make some changes.
To start with I linked back in with my counsellor.
Then we got creative and found a 20 minute pocket of time at the end of the day between when my husband gets home from work and when the sunsets so that I could go for a walk by myself. The trade-off was letting go of family dinner, but really my kids are so over- tired by the end of the day that a walk was a much better use of my time.
After a couple of months, I added in a weekly tennis class one evening a week. My husband managed the double put down and the kids were in a place where they were stable enough to cope with separating from me.
These new routines were going well, and I started to get ambitious.
Music had always been a bit part of my life and I wanted to get back into going to a singing group that was impossible with the kids. I decided to try leaving the kids with my parents (the only people our PDAer will stay with) while I went to the choir.
Choir day came and I could tell my PDAer was anxious about it, and he was indirectly telling me through his pretend play with his comfort toy. I weighed everything up. I decided that the choir was important for me, and he had been in a stable place, so I made the decision to stretch him and give it a go. I was able to get him comfortable enough to separate and I did get to the choir that day.
Then came the straw that broke the camel’s back.
In the same week, I had to have a minor day surgery procedure so the kids were once again being looked after for a couple of hours. We had talked everything through, and our PDAer understood how important the procedure was. He masked and held it together and I got to the appointment.
However, when I got back home, he seemed really drowsy. He then asked me to sit with him and fell asleep in my lap at 10:30am! This was super unusual, and I knew that he had found the week incredibly draining.
Later when he woke up, he was visibly sad. I tuned in and we eventually figured out that he was scared being apart from mummy and didn’t know when I’d be back. He cried and cried and cried until he fell asleep again. He didn’t eat anything the rest of the day, barely spoke and just wanted to watch mesmerising shows. He fell asleep for the 3rd time in the afternoon and when I woke him to see if he wanted dinner, he just wanted to go to his bed to sleep.
This was him nervous system completely spent and in shut down.
The cumulative stress that had built up across the week had been too much.
The next day we woke early at 3am and chatted and chatted while we snuggled. He had some quality time playing with his dad and was back to his baseline. That weekend we also made sure to have a couple of days at home to rest.
There is power in the recovery and the repair.
Just for now, getting to a weekly choir class is too much. I have had to settle for getting more creative with fitting in time for singing at home. Often, it’s at the end of the day while I’m doing the dishes.
I share this because I want you to know that balancing everyone’s needs is an ongoing juggling act.
It’s OK to have periods where your own needs are a priority.
It’s OK to have missteps.
It’s OK to be constantly recalibrating.
It’s OK to ask for help.
