Today I woke up crying & I haven’t stopped.
Doubts, Fears, Worries, then some more Doubts, Fears and Worries, and so on.
I think the enormity of the past year but particularly the past few days have come crushing down on me.
Doubts, fears, worries swallowing me up. I can’t seem to get control of them.
I am the rock of this family. I never crumble. Yet here I’am crying insanely.
Selling our house to buy a bus to turn into a home to travel Australia on a mission to transform children’s health, one lunchbox at a time.
An experience of a lifetime for our children. The chance to make a difference to the lives of our children’s generation. A time for Israel and I to be together under the stars in our vast land.
Today, it all feels way too much.
On Friday, I make the final arrangements for our move from our home of 9 years to temporary accommodation until our bus is ready (that’s a whole other story about it being almost 3 months late!). We are going to finish packing today, do a big trailer load Saturday & our last one Monday. Cleaner coming Wed, hand over keys Thurs – sorted!
Later on Friday, I was diagnosed with low grade adrenal fatigue. I’m a health coach. I’ve seen it coming – not enough sleep for too many months, feeding us real food but not feeding my soul. Not finding time to exercise. Putting everyone and everything before my health. The very things I coach people, particularly Mums about. The doctor told me I need to let my family know that I need to rest. I can’t do it all. She said it’s the first thing I have to do tonight.
On Friday whilst in my doctors appt, I get an emergency call from my husband. He’s had an accident and ruptured his patellar tendon. His kneecap is sitting 4 cm above where it should be. We sit in emergency with 2 impatient kids. Late evening we find he needs surgery – of course we knew this but hearing it was different. I call a removalist company and think screw the money, I will get someone else to move us. Sorted.
That night as Israel lays in hospital waiting for an op the next day, I lay in our bed, my head starts to reel. I have my first ever panic attack! It scares me. My kids being in the next room gives me the strength to pull through. I’m the rock, I have to be strong for them.
Our family rally around us on Saturday and take the kids off my hands so I can finish packing the house whilst Israel is in hospital waiting for surgery. I felt some relief. I tell no-one of my panic attack. I am the rock after all.
But instead surgery didn’t happen. Too many other emergencies. I bring hubby home and get him comfortable. Packing really didn’t start until about 3pm and fortunately my brother was here and was amazing. At 9.30pm, we have nothing left in our tank and go to bed. Exhausted!
This morning I woke at 6.30am and my first thought was of my beautiful Mums and Dads who are in week 1 of my lunchbox eCourse. I jumped onto Facebook and gave them a quick pep talk for this morning. Then proceeded to go out to the kitchen. This and the office are the last rooms being dismantled. This is my undoing. As I stand amongst all my Tupperware, pulling the last few remaining plates we own out of the cupboards, the world crashes in on me. The rock starts to crumble. In fact, it’s obliterated. I cry like never before. I simply can’t stop.
I start to think I just want our old life back. The safe one. The one where I am just a mum and health coach helping individuals and families one at a time.
The mum who packs her kids healthy lunches, drops them to school, does her work, picks them up, ferries them to activities, cooks dinner, goes to bed to get up and do it all again the next day.
Not the mum on a mission, not the mum who sold their bricks and mortar to buy a bus and uproot the family, to take the mission around Australia to help other kids. Not the mum with a husband who needs surgery. Not the…
The list goes on…
It’s all gotten too big, too real today. I feel the weight of it all. I am seriously writing through my tears with a gentle rock back and forward happening.
And I am missing my kids. The thought of not seeing them for 4 days is tugging at my heart.
When will it end.
I am the rock. I don’t do this. I am not handling this state well at all either and that is making me cry more.
The doubts, fears and worries are enveloping me.
What if I don’t finish all this packing?
What if the bus doesn’t get finished by end of Feb? What does this mean to our trip?
What about Israel’s op? This is BIG. Will he come out of the surgery ok? How will I get him to our temp accommodation a day after his op without him being in pain? Then there’s rehab time – physio. How long will he need this? It means I will be driving the bus most of the time for a while. It means I had better do a course to learn how to pull a big a** trailer behind that bus. How long will it be before we can hit the road?
What about Indrani starting Distance Ed? Is it the right choice for her?
What about Rilien? I need to get some pre-school activities sorted for him?
I need to find time to be there for my eCourse participants for the next 3 weeks. How can I best serve them with all this happening?
What If I can’t get people to support our mission and schools don’t aren’t interested in booking The Mad Food Science Program™?
Are my babies going to be OK? I miss them so much and they aren’t used to being away from us for 4 days. I know that sounds odd but that’s the way our little tight knit family rolls.
And right now, I am thinking “What the bleep am I going to make my hubby and brother for breakfast?” We don’t have any real food in the house anymore – we’re meant to be leaving today.
Doubts, fears, worries have smashed this rock to smithereens this morning. I am grateful my cherubs aren’t here to see just how far I have fallen. I will tell them I’ve been upset – they will see it. I am already 40mins late for our promised FaceTime call.
This post has been therapeutic. I am finally starting to feel I can control myself. Somehow writing it all down has made me realise the doubts, fears, worries really aren’t as big as I have let my mind race off with.
I think this rock needed to crumble.
Thank you for reading this. I sent it to Israel this morning, just to share where I was at. I just couldn’t explain it to him amongst all my tears. He told me I should share it. I couldn’t – it was so raw.
My mum, brother and my beautiful BFF Kellie have been here helping today. And although I have cried on all of their shoulders, it’s now 9pm and I have a spring in my step after reading all the amazing achievements my beautiful Mums and Dads doing my lunchbox eCourse are having. They are all making a stand for their children’s health, and have been preparing for a weeks worth of healthy school lunchboxes. I have finally stopped crying. I feel I am in control. In control enough to know that sharing this post is not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength. A sign to let other Mums and Dads know that we can’t always be Superman or Superwoman, no matter how much we want to be.
Much Love and Wellness,
Bel xo