Walls are NOT good for stress relief

I punched a wall. Hard. I did that after I tore down the shower rod and curtain. The stripping of the tub came hard on the heels of me destroying my toothbrush. It was not a good morning. Fortunately, I did not damage the wall. The rod and curtain were also in good shape and promptly returned to their appropriate positions. The toothbrush needed to be replaced anyway, which I took care of this evening. In fact the only physical harm came to my hand. I wisely threw the punch with my left hand, allowing me to continue writing with my right (my bizarre ambidexterity involves right handed writing and left handed athleticism). Thankfully, I broke nothing. My knuckles have some good swelling, and the pain is more than annoying. My wife suggested icing it, but I feel like suffering a bit more as a reminder of my stupidity.

Interestingly enough, I associate my foolishness not with the temper tantrum this morning, but my inability to discuss my mental and physical states honestly. I continue to try to "push" when I am well beyond my breaking point. That is simply not wise. Last week drained me completely. I dragged myself out of bed on Saturday and did get to my ultimate Frisbee practice. While I missed the run and the first drill to do my own stretching, I did participate in the rest of practice. A couple of the drills brought me close to last week's dizziness, but I felt okay after a small break. I even played decently in the scrimmage, although I was frighteningly aware that I hadn't played in a game since September. I threw away a few ridiculously horrible passes. Still, I enjoyed practice and was glad I went.

I got home and mustered the energy to do some more weeding of the lawn. Then, I mowed. I was proud of myself for all of that. By the time I sat down to eat lunch, I had done a decent amount of work. I had also spent every ounce of energy I possessed. The rest of the day consisted of my sitting on our snuggler staring at yet another crossword. Every time I got up, my head would spin for 30-60 seconds. It was such a lovely feeling. My wife, my daughter and I did watch a wonderful movie together (The Last Mimsy), but I was not at all present for them. I also knew that my wife was stressed about her own lack of energy all day. I was tense and terse as the evening progressed. I also felt my anxiety rising as I pondered all of the tasks not yet done. As we went to bed, my wife raised the possibility of 8:15 AM Mass. My stomach turned at the thought, but I didn't say anything about not wanting to go then. She said we could figure out in the morning if I would join them.

I actually slept as well as I have in a week. But as soon as I was up, I knew I had nothing. In all honesty I should have simply gone back to bed. Unfortunately, doing things like that only makes my narcolepsy hit me worse. Thus, I started on the sudoku and the crossword, ate my breakfast, and tried to relax. As my wife and daughter started to stir and then to fade back into sleep, I tried to convince myself that they wouldn't want to go to 8:15 Mass. They did, though! We finally started to get ready at 7:30, and they both showered before me. At some point I knew I wouldn't make it, but I still couldn't admit that. Finally, I snapped. Screaming at my wife, myself, my narcolepsy and the world, I destroyed a toothbrush, deflowered my shower and smashed my hand.

Beyond the idiocy of this is the lesson that I have to be honest - with others and with myself. The huge problem this morning is that I worried that telling my wife I could not go to Mass would lead to a huge fight or me doing something stupid (like punching a wall - oops). I am getting better at accepting my limits. I beat myself up less for irrational and unachievable expectations. Sadly, though, I still rip myself to shreds when I think (or know) that I am letting down my wife and daughter. My wife has had such a hard week. Her job and stress are inconceivable to me. I need to do more around our house so she can stop worrying about it. I also know we need more time together as a family. Mass was a perfect way to do that today, except that I couldn't do it. My limitations don't just steal from my job or my fun. Narcolepsy also impacts my home life - every day. I stuff those incredibly personal emotions and disappointments until they explode out of me - in ugly and painful (really painful if you are my left hand) ways. My genuine fear that a fight would ensue with my wife if I bailed on Mass is a much better route than a torturous rage that could have resulted in a hospital trip and did cause a fight anyway. I must learn to trust my heart, my wife and my honesty.

Gratefully, my hand is not even that swollen. My wife and daughter have forgiven me. I think I have even forgiven myself - mostly. Days like today serve to remind me that this journey is only beginning. I have so much to learn - about my condition, about myself, about true joy, about balance. I am lucky to have a loving family that supports me on good days and bad. They even let me go to great movies, like Prince Caspian, after throwing tantrums and missing Mass. Gotta love that!