After texting “I want to run away from my life” to two close friends while sitting on a hospital bench a few weeks ago, I had a poignant breakthrough moment.
My daughter had been admitted for an infection. On that particular day, she was supposed to go home. Her IV was out, her toddler-size mini-mouse hospital gown was off, and we were all packed up. Then she threw up on me — a few times.
This isn’t unusual for our little girl. She’s had a sensitive tummy in her first 19 months of life. But in this situation, even slight dehydration could have become a big problem. So, without a fuss, I took a deep breath, wiped myself down, unpacked and settled in again.
Meanwhile, my 3-week-old baby boy was at home with Grandma.
I think it’s important to be able to rise to whatever challenges life presents. Resisting difficult situations only makes them worse. I try to focus on everything that’s good instead of dwelling on what’s not. But sometimes I fail. This was one of those times.
I was wet, smelly, totally drained and anger was starting to seep out of my pores. The breaking point came when we couldn’t find my daughter’s highly specialized eye drops. My husband and I tore the 150-square-foot hospital dorm room apart, and that stupid little vial was nowhere to be found.
Insert breakdown here.
Not finding the drops wasn’t actually a big deal, but I was done. I lashed out at my husband, threw my arms up, loudly announced “I’m out,” and stormed off down the hall … with nowhere to go.
As I debated between Ubering to a bar, drowning myself in tacos, or just going straight home and crawling into bed, I came across a bench in the middle of the hallway. I sat down, put my head in my hands and contemplated how to jump ship.
Is this what my life is now? Sleepless nights, screaming babies, vomit-stained shirts, way too much time in the hospital (my daughter has had her share of bumps along the way), tension with my husband and no time for me? I felt sorry for myself, which then morphed into guilt and shame as my thoughts grew darker and darker.
I thought about a male friend who was left to raise two kids on his own because his wife couldn’t take the pressure, so she up and left. Could I do that? I love my family, but this stinks!
That’s when I messaged my friends. Neither of them responded right away, so I had a full-blown conversation with myself. “You guys, I want to run away from my life.” “I hate everything right now.” “I’m obviously not actually going anywhere.” “But I just keep thinking, how can I get out of this …”
It took nine messages for me to get it all out. Then I sat in silence; and the real Marci slowly started coming back.
By the time my husband came around the corner a few minutes later, I was able to utter a sheepish, “I’m sorry.” We hugged, and I realized something critical: Sometimes you need to leave in order to be able to stay.
I’m never going to leave my family. But for me to stick around and be a net positive to the crew, sometimes I’m going to have to remove myself. I’m a time bomb if I don’t.
This applies for all kinds of situations. Anytime self-control erodes, recognizing that and stepping out until it returns is probably the wisest — and even the most loving — move for everyone involved.
I aspire to stay level-headed at all times. In the meantime, instead of crucifying myself for weak moments, negative thoughts and general struggles as a human, I’ll try to be self-aware enough to know when I’m a liability so that I’m able to briefly bow out. Mindfully stepping out before snapping may be the ironic key to powerfully staying — and not getting kicked out, too.