That Last Straw

Have you ever just had a terrible day when one thing after the next just went wrong?  Maybe it was more than a day.  I've been dealing with some bad news and stressful things happening and they culminated into a moment that, unfortunately, resulted in a mini nervous breakdown, because of that last straw that broke Benia's back. 

Singly, my stressful things weren't that unbearable.  They're no fun, but I can handle them alone.  It's when they all decide to happen together and overlap into an overwhelming mess of crap that I have trouble. 

For example, work-related stress over deadlines, earnings, etc. are also typical of most employed people.  My surprisingly high blood pressure is one more diagnosis for me to deal with.  Major household appliances expiring and requiring immediate action for replacement happen.  Then a loved one's health problems creeping in with a flare-up of unknown severity.  My car's check engine light decided to get in on the action.  Then a health insurance change with serious financial implications was suddenly forced upon us with little time to plan and research.  My asthma was feeling the stress and making sure I noticed it, no matter how much I fought it. 

Then I got a phone message from my parents - people who love me and miss me but have no idea how much strength I muster on any given day, just to get by and pretend I'm normal.  There is also a language barrier, as they are immigrants and I am American-born.  Our conversations are limited to what we can successfully express in the others' comfortable language.  I called back and just mention my having a bad day and before I know it, I'm getting lectured on how I can't possibly have anything to stress over because I have no kids.  THAT was the last straw. 

I could not handle one more thing and yet there it was.  I broke.  It was extremely unfortunate that I broke down while on that call, because without being able to explain that life just took a shit on me recently, I ended up not making any sense at all and ended up seeming secretive.  Who wants to list all their problems to people who immediately judge and compare them to their own standards?  I am not secretive or dishonest.  I just did not have a good way to convey my bad day and explain my emotional fragility.

THEN, THAT phone call added yet another unnecessary straw to my load.  Since then, I've been accused of keeping secrets and lying to cover up some problem that would be catastrophic.  My own parents had two days to speculate the very worst since my breakdown.  Today they made an excuse to come see me so they could find out more.  UGH, I did this so wrong!  They came and we talked.  Their accusations were not helping me.  I did my best to explain that I just had a bad string of luck but that I'm okay.  Nobody is getting a divorce or fighting or dying or whatever other awful things they imagined.  I also told them that I know that they are trying to help and that I appreciate it, but I just cannot take it right now.  They mean well, but the advice I get from them is just SO unhelpful!  If they only realized how much they are just making things worse with their loving help.  Knowing that they cannot understand and that they meant well is all that kept me from losing my mind all over again. 

I need a break, I tried to explain.  I think they got it, but they are far too generous with their advice about every last thing they think I need help with.  They cannot help me.  They make assumptions that I cannot seem to debunk for them.  There are details about my life that I am unwilling to have to share just to get them to stop helping.  Eat this.  Take that supplement.  It works for them.  OMG, just stop.  Thank you, Mom and Dad, seriously, for caring, but I just don't need this advice.

This is how I'm doing.  I will have better days, but not for a while, I think. :P