I recognize that the family time had over the 4th of July weekend will never happen again in the same way. Kids will grow. Relationship dynamics will change.
I also recognize that it was stressful for both me and my kiddo. Hard doesn’t come close to describing it. I am not great at naming the things that hurt my soul quite yet. I am glad I went. I am glad I am home.
And now at home, I recognize that there are things that need to be done, things to put away, straightening to do, organizing that needs to happen. I also recognize that I need to be still and heal. I need a reset to my normal. First and foremost, emotionally, but just to throw in a little creativity for my higher power to sort out, I hurt my shoulder yeeting children, and I am still, maybe forever dealing with pain management from the neuralgia.
I will say that I learned from my last mistake and do not have to contend with a sunburn. We were out in the sun for a full two plus days. I have no idea how that compares to last time, but I knocked those corrective measures out of the park. I brought enough sunscreen to coat the entire town AND my canopy to shade a 10’ x 10’ space of my folks deck that is not normally shaded. Boom!
There were so many emotions over the weekend, that I’m not sure I could name them all. For curiosity’s sake, I am going to try and just see where this leads me. Grief, anxiety, fear, contempt, disregard, apathy, pride, joy, accomplishment, curiosity, expectation, disappointment, anticipation, release, commitment, peace, security, comfort, pain, defensiveness, defiance, belligerence, willingness, anger, vulnerability, uncertainty, *worry, avoidance, excitement, admiration, resentment, discouragement, resignation, frustration, awe, wonder, confusion, interest, surprise, nostalgia, sarcasticm, empathy, connection, disconnection, insecurity, invisibility, love, heartbreak, trust, hurt, gratitude, tranquility, humility.
The first 26 were mine just sitting here skimming through my weekend tying emotions to events. After the asterisk, the last 29 were from the table of contents of Atlas of the Heart, Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience by Brene Brown. 55 named emotions in thinking about a three and a half day trip. I grabbed Brene’s book because I thought I was doing myself an injustice after starting the list. I was right and I am a big fan of reference material.
I needed to start naming some of this chaos in my head. It’s affecting me a lot. My thinking, my perceptions, the way I am receiving words, my internal dialog. It affected the end of my weekend with my kiddo, my wife’s return from a 10 day work trip, my home space with my wife, and if I am not careful, it will seep into work. But if I name it, face it and sit with it, I can release the unneeded energy back into the universe. My natural state for the last three years has been beyond amazing. Beyond. I don’t have to go out of my way anymore to do the work to maintain my amazing life. The work is built in. And this little emotional bout, should we call it, is different. It makes the depression dips seem practiced and manageable.
No, this is anger. Destructiveness. Chaos. All the emotions listed above. And it’s not about drinking. It hasn’t been about drinking for a long time. It’s about emotional balance. That’s what caused the drinking for so long.
Arriving Saturday, I could have packed up my kid and left. It was a brief and fleeting thought. It was a rough start to a long weekend. One of my hellos was laced with disapproval, ignorance, fear, and an invalidation of my family, my wife, and my child. Belly and I had a wonderful time in the pool together Saturday afternoon, as no one else was poolside yet. Belly was excited to be with her cousins but she put up with me for a day, just us.
Brothers two and three arrived Sunday with their broods. It was a lot of fun. It got a lot louder and chaotic. We have a decent hierarchy set up where it’s Grammie and Papa’s house, so it’s their rules, and then if kids have further questions, they are sent to their own parents. Within that system are about a million variations and tangents that can be very overwhelming. See list of emotions above.
Monday was a repeat of Sunday with increasingly tired children that wanted to be out in the sun all day. Monday night when the fam was shooting fireworks, I witnessed my kiddo have a panic attack for the first time. And the second time. It was so heartbreaking. I could have done some serious damage to any relationship that night because I was already wearing thin. I did my best to take care of my kiddo and pretty much ignored everyone else. There was a lot going on. There were about 15 of us out on the driveway including five excited firework lighting children, and five Rankers from my family of origin. We are big, loud, and bossy. Too many cooks kind of thing.
According to the Moon, something happened last 4th of July with her other family that now caused her to be extremely startled when firecrackers went off. So with about 10 different people taking turns lighting, we attempted to ask the family if they would let us know if they were doing anything that went boom or crackle; or crackle boom. That’s a pretty tough request, especially if you aren’t sure what a firework might do. And simply, I think something went off when she had her back turned searching out our next thing to light. For my part, I think I was so set on having her light stuff and be out there having fun, that I didn’t assess her fear or trama response well. She said firecrackers scared her. I had been told previously, by her other mother, that she has had panic attacks. I wasn’t sure if that was true or what they looked like. I didn’t put any of that whole equation together. I didn’t ask her, for instance, if she would just like to sit and watch others light. I assumed she would want to be out there lighting. I remember her saying something like any firework that made noise or changed color scared her. I chuckled and said, honey, you just described every firework that ever existed. I also remember brushing it off and grabbing her to go see what she wanted to light next.
Because I was absorbed in lighting my own fireworks, I did not even see her get startled. Ang came over with Bella and quietly said, hey, I think she needs to go somewhere. When I looked down at her, she was doing these little short heavy breaths. Her shoulders were rising and falling with each breath, kind of gasping for air I guess. I don’t panic in emergency situations, so I just grabbed her hand and walked away from the driveway toward the front of the house. The front of the house is around the corner from the driveway, so it was probably about a half block walk. We went and sat on the porch swing for only a few minutes because she had calmed down quite a bit with just the walk. I asked what happened and she said someone lit a firecracker or a mortar shell or something. I asked her if she wanted to keep shooting fireworks and she said yes. I rubbed her back and we sat there for just another minute and then she was ready to go. Jumped off the swing and was three steps in front of me before I could even get up.
And again, I thought we were good to go. She was back out there with her cousins doing the stuff. The second panic attack came after she had just been out in the street and was returning to the driveway. There is a pretty good sized dip where the driveway hits the street. Someone in the street lit something, it scared her, kids don’t walk, and she bit it running. I didn’t even see her fall. This time, I think my sister-in-law called me over and Bella was sitting in a chair holding a skinned knee and doing the breathing thing again. I scooped her up and took her to my chair. I didn’t know how hurt she was and I wanted to be a bit away from all the other things going on. Between gasps, she listed her injuries and said she was fine. It was the noise that had caused the most damage. Oh my heart.
My nieces and nephews were so wonderful. Since we didn’t walk away this time, and we were just sitting in the chair, me clutching and rocking her and her gasping for air, the kids kinda came over one at a time and checked on her. Their little faces! Is she okay? What happened? And when I said I thought she was okay but just needed a little space, they nodded and zoomed off like there were on some kind of secret mission. Children are the absolute best.
I have no idea how long we sat there, but I was so focused on her that I didn’t realize the fam was wrapping things up. In the past, like for forever, since we were kids, we would do all the little stuff while mixing the cool big stuff in, but we always saved a couple two three things to do as a finale. So this packing up and winding down thing was strange too. I don’t know if they all decided they were done or if they were worried about Bella, tired kids, out of fireworks… No clue. Bella was ready to be done tho and still breathing short and gaspy. I left all my fireworks and my table and my chair and we went inside downstairs to continue working on the panic attack. Angela super wife was always right by my side.
We sat in the cool basement and breathed. I held this eight year old infant in my arms. We talked about what startled her, where and how she fell, what she wanted to do next, stay down here with us or sleep upstairs with the cousins again. I think I had three Ranker men ask me if I was coming back outside to put away my stuff. “Okay, Dad said to ask so he can close up the garage.” I’ll handle it, I said again, and again. Sheesh! And then, when Bells was ready, she changed into her pajamas and bounded upstairs to join the other kiddos. Done.
Ang and I went outside to put things away and talk. I was so sad and confused and heartbroken for my little baby. She probably recovered much quicker than I did. I think I handled the situation just fine, but reflecting in the driveway, I felt so unprepared, maybe like I didn’t know my own kiddo. Just kind of out of touch, out of the loop. I can know that it is a direct result of the disease of alcoholism and it’s affects, own my part, and know that I am here now, doing my best, but the fear, anxiety, confusion, frustration, and discouragement were all there riding shotgun.
Tuesday was the worst emotional hangover I maybe ever had in my life, anger still at the boiling point. One hundred forms of fear. Worry. Pain. Helplessness. I had been with my family too long at that point. Relationships were in jeopardy. I was defensive and short. My old behaviors were creeping in. Everyone was pretty worn out. Well, not the kids. They were ready to go again. I don’t even remember what we did Tuesday except pack things up, swim a little, eat lunch I think, but we didn’t leave till 2pm, so we must have done something. Oh, I think I went back to sleep! Ang took the puppers for a walk and he came back covered in poo, so she bathed him when she got back, which he doesn’t like and I was curt with her in my lack of assistance. She came over to me later and requested, in so many words, that I chill. I hadn’t even realized I was being a grump. I wish that had snapped me out of it. I didn’t know it then, but I was actually several days from the snap.
To bring it all back around and sum it up short, and sweet: this is exactly what I used to drink over. My own emotions. My own expectations. My own disappointment. Today, after years of hard work, that is replaced with self-love, reflection, self-forgiveness, humility, support, connection, and willingness. Gotta go, time to grow.
The Isms of the Ic 