Spiraling out of Control

Spiraling out of control is something I work to avoid. I have a lot of yoga techniques that I can apply to help myself with this. I still struggle, though, because knowing and doing are two different things.  Last night, I thought I was settling into a nice relaxing evening. I took a prescribed sleep aid at 8:30 to help me get into the habit of falling asleep at the right time, without anxiety, and I was settled on the couch, unwinding with a book.

Then, my son said, "Oh, no! Something terrible has happened!" The door had been left open when our puppies were brought inside for their night time routine of snuggles on the couch with the kids, and our cats had gone outside in the dark. We have indoor cats because they live a military life, too, where we move too often for them to become accustomed to the outside.

The reason we discovered that the door was wide open is because one of the puppies pee'd on the couch. The spiraling out of control for my emotions is really wanting to happen here. Pointless disconnected and distracted behavior has caused this chain of reactions. I've taken my sleep aid and am looking forward to a nice night of sleep, after having a conversation with my family several days ago that they had to leave me alone at night and let me find my relaxation and sleep alone. If they wanted snuggles, it had to happen in the daylight. The darkness belongs to me. They have another parent who doesn't really struggle with sleeplessness and sudden anxiety attacks who they can cuddle at that time of day. One of my littles was a crying mess, because my very logical little, clearly identified the culprit in who left the door open and who was not holding the puppy on the lap so that it didn't pee on the couch. At the same time I'm mad at that child, and the situation, I'm disappointed in myself and my husband, because I feel like ultimately anything that goes cattywampus in our household is our fault, because we are the adults.

But, damn it, I'm tired of always being the responsible version of myself. The less mature side of me wants to spiral out of control completely. It's so much easier than staying present in the moment. I start to, as well. I'm mad at the dogs, and not acting kindly, either, which breaks my heart to know that I have a deep well of anger within me, still. I work to be a well-spring of joy, and a lot of the time I am. Not at that point. I'm irritated at the tears, at the dark, at the open door, at our decision to allow our children to have puppies, at the cats who just want to be outside as their nature beckons to them, at my use of sleep aids to develop good sleeping habits, at my husband (because why not just let my frustration keep boiling over?), at how difficult it is to try and be a better version of myself.

The thing saving me from going into a full blown panic attack, laying pathetically on the floor, is my knowledge that these emotions will pass. I can sit with the emotions and feel them without becoming helpless, and once the effects of the sleep aid wear off, and the morning comes, I can practice some asanas to get the lingering effects of the emotions out of my body. I could have just thrown myself into an asana practice at that moment, but I'm still at the point in my life where I don't want to rise above it all.

I didn't rise above it all, but I knew I could. That knowledge kept me in check from spiraling out of control. An F1 tornado of emotions popped up, but, in my head, I kept it from developing into something much worse. I wanted to scream and yell at everyone in our house. I wanted to say, "Shame on you!" to my little. I did say it was shamefull behaviour that shouldn't have happened, though. I hate the sentence, "shame on you" because shame doesn't help anyone. I think I wanted to check-out into a full blown panic attack, but instead, after I had done everything I could to handle the situation, including making sure to hug my little and say, "I love you," before sending that little ball of emotions to bed, I curled onto the couch and sat with my emotions. I wished they would go away and that I could just be the better version of myself. I worked on just accepting that I wasn't and creating as much emotional balance as I could by shutting down the thoughts that told me I wasn't good enough for my family. The sleep aid took effect and I went to bed. it was not a restful sleep, though, because our one cat that was inside was agitated because our other cat was still outside. We could not find him in the dark, and he was out living his best life.

By 11 o'clock, I was aware and awake enough to get out of bed and put the puppies outside, again, to use the restroom. I just knew with the excitement of the open door disturbing their night time routine, they were not able to empty their bladders or settle into restfulness, and could use the potty break. Again, that immature side of me didn't even want to deal with them. My thinking was that if they pottied in their kennel, then it served them right to have to deal with it and my husband could just clean the kennel in the morning when he let the puppies out to use the restroom. I'm always trying to be a better version of myself, so I knew that wasn't a kind thing to do to either the puppies or my husand. I heard the puppies moving around in their kennel, and I calming brought them outside. Both of them did relieve themselves. I was happy that I didn't let the angry and overwhelmed side of myself win over the compassionate and responsible side of myself. If only the rest of my family wasn't asleep and could see me representing a cool, calm, and collected adult. So often that's the case--peace doesn't draw as much attention as chaos.

I tucked the puppies into their kennel, again, and went outside to see if my cat, had finished his night on the town and was ready to come back inside. He was not. With my delicate mental state still leaning toward breaking down, I took a lavender and chamomile calm aid and settled onto the couch to read again, in the hopes of hearing our sweet cat meow to come inside. By the time I went to bed, he still had not returned. By 5:30 in the morning, he came to the door, just as happy as could be.

Thankfully dogs, children, and God are forgiving. Thankfully, I'm self aware enough to ask God to live through me in those moments where I'm about to spiral out of control. Thankfully, after 16 years of marriage, I've figured out how to communicate well enough for my husband to know to give me distance, and for him to trust that I'm going to work through the emotions and make it back to kindness and able to take on responsibility. Thankfully, I've learned how to apply yoga techniques to release the pent up tension in my shoulders and face, and to release the ball of energy that still sits in my solar plexus and throat chakras.