Wound Too Tight

Last night I had tea with a really good friend,  Natasha, who I have not seen in a year due to our busy schedules. We had a wonderful time catching up.  Later when I got home and after putting the kids down to bed, something that came up in my conversation with Natasha kept running through my mind.  I had shared with Natasha my concerns about my daughter, Maria,  who is 10 years old and how concerned I am about how much she stresses about school and life in general. I told her how Maria strives so hard to do everything well.  Natasha's was quiet for a moment and then responded,  "Just like her mama, huh?".  She went on to say how she has never really seen me chill and just kick back.  

Oh my GOD.  Sometimes we need someone outside of ourselves to point out the obvious.   I know I work hard,  just like everyone else. I know that I push myself,  but doesn't everybody do that? Okay, maybe I do overcompensate.  But it occurred to me.  Is my behavior consistent with a person who is wound too tight?  And maybe, just maybe, that explains why my daughter is the way she is.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree does it?

Maria, bless her heart, has a hard time holding back her tears when she doesn't understand her school work and sometimes loses it when she is overwhelmed.  The only difference for me is that I don't show my frustration in public.  Maria hasn't mastered that skill, yet.  For me, my emotions, when they do manifest, are usually directed at my husband, God Bless him, who in most instances, has no clue what in the hell is going on with me.  How he puts up with me, is beyond me.  Must be love.

I decided to really look at myself honestly and came up with some examples of snapping moments.  Allow me to share.

I recalled one instance when I had just finished mopping the kitchen and had asked the family to PLEASE stay out of the kitchen until the floor had time to dry. (This happened about a month ago.) My husband was walking towards the kitchen as I made this request and yet there he was standing smack dab in the middle of the kitchen! What happened next still scares me.  I let out this deep gurgling, loud, "UGGGGGHHH" and shoved him in the chest trying to push him out.  Of course this was to no avail as he is much stronger than I.  He looked at me like I had lost my mind.  I had.  I was so embarrassed.  I ran to our bedroom and felt like a total idiot. "It's just a floor!" I thought to myself.

A more recent incident happened just yesterday.  I was on a frustrating phone call putting out a 'fire'.  As I returned back to a meeting, my husband, who was standing outside of my office, apparently had heard the conversation, reached out to me to give me a hug.  I pushed his hands away and gave him a look of disdain and snapped at him.  I don't even remember what I said to him.  What in God's name is wrong with me? 

A couple of hours after this happened I had cooled down, and I decided to ask my husband if he thought I was wound too tight.  And there it was.  That awkward silence.  Then the lifted eyebrow and a ,"Well..." that tapered off into silence again.  He was being nice.  Or maybe he was afraid to answer the question after my most recent episode.

So this is to all of you out there, men and women alike who are dealing with stress and who sometimes lose it.  Life is stressful.  It's time for me to dig deep into my meditation practice. It's time for me to let down my chongo (english translation: bun or ponytail).  I do this not just for my own sake but for my husband,  my daughter and  my 11 year old son.  Who knows what effect I have had on him.  Kids have enough stress of their own.  No need for me to add to it.