A Quick Soak in the Frenzy Chemical Bath

Pride goeth before a fall, they say. I've felt proud of myself lately. We've had two weeks of teacher workdays to get ready for school starting tomorrow, and I've seen a lot of teachers in a mental frenzy, not sure how they're going to get everything done. Yet, I've been calm -- relatively calm, at least, for me. I'm one to only feel secure and confident when I've overplanned, especially in a new situation, so I expected to be in  a frenzy myself this week.

But I haven't been. Still relatively calm. Until about 7:30 last night when I realized that none of the laptop chargers in the house were working on my computer -- that the problem was in my computer, not the chargers. My brain quickly flashed through the last time this happened to my laptop: it was too expensive to fix . . . we sent the laptop back to the manufacturer to be replaced because it was still under warranty . . . took a few weeks . . . is this one still under warranty? . . . and then the warning icon flashed on the low battery icon and it hit me.

I have only a few minutes left to access all my school files, and then I have no idea when I'll see them again.

That's when the panic set in.

Even while I felt the Frenzy Chemicals starting to flood my brain, I had the presence of mind to scramble to transfer as many crucial school documents as possible to my google drive, where I'd have access to them from a different computer. I didn't get them all there before the screen went black. But when I tried to pull them up on my daughters' computer, they weren't there. It didn't synch.

And at that point, my brain was in a helpless, panicked fog, and I was on the verge of tears for about an hour.

For over a year after my youngest's birth and my mother's sudden death, I suffered from some serious depression. One of the symptoms I saw in myself that forced me to get myself to the doctor was my inability to make decisions or to prioritize. I would start unloading the dishwasher, then see clothes in the laundry room that needed to be folded. So, I'd go fold, and then see books lying on a table that needed to be put away. I'd get those books into the next room, and I'd set them down when I saw a loose thread on an afghan that needed trimming. I'd go to get the scissors and just get the drawer open, then I'd notice . . . something else. And it would go on and on. At one point, I stood and looked around and saw at least a dozen tasks I had started and left dangling uncompleted. Everything seemed urgent. I couldn't filter and think. (I've thought about that a lot when people describe how people with autism can't filter out background sounds . . . that would be unlivable.)

That's kind of how my brain felt for an hour last night. I couldn't think what to do next. Somehow the logistics of finding a computer repair place and getting the work done quickly without breaking the bank and still being ready for school Thursday and still getting to my dentist appointment today and getting the kids to Schlitterbahn like I promised and getting the youngest back in time for her evening rehearsal . . . I simply couldn't put it together in my head.

My eldest's boyfriend is in town, and he got online and found a repair place that was still open at 8:45pm, so I called. Talking to this man calmed me. He may be a disreputable, fly-by-night huckster that will take advantage of me, but the boyfriend said he had good reviews, he sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and more importantly, he soothed and pacified me. The Frenzy Chemical bath my brain was soaking in began to evaporate. I needed to be soothed and pacified.

You know, the Bible talks about walking in the Spirit vs. walking by the sinful nature -- but the real translation of that is walking in the flesh. I sometimes think that's a more accurate term than we realize.