It got to the point where I was sending Eric a long apology text every day, trying to make up a reason for my behavior the previous day.
It didn't feel like out of control hormones, this was different. Usually if I am hormonal I just get sad and mopey (at least I think so. Eric might tell you a different story all together). I was feeling consumed by something I couldn't put my finger on. Everything just felt harder to deal with. I have dealt with a cranky teething child before and come out looking much less ugly than this last week. The last few days, Hendric has been especially difficult for me but an angel for Eric when he comes home. Usually I would blame that on me working and that I am a horrible mom to leave my child. This time I tried to reverse it and told Eric that I must be so crazy lately because Hendric was having such a hard time.
Eric tried delicately to tell me he felt that wasn't so:
"Um, I think that maybe...it's possible your crazy time started before Hendric had his bad days this week."
Ouch. Take that one down your gullet.
And he was totally right. What the hannah was wrong with me?
I tried to rack my brain. I had gotten into a funk that I couldn't shake...a little depressed, a lot crazy!
As we started to talk it out last night (or as I word-vomited everything that was in my head and Eric graciously listened), I said something that I really didn't think had anything to do with anything, "I am really really scared about Sunday."
So for some prior knowledge for all ya'll, Sunday is my first week on the vocal team at church. Now I have sung hundreds of Sundays on stage...so why the freak out?
I should have known there was something wrong in my head when we had the following conversation shortly after receiving the email for our July vocal schedule about a week and a half ago:
Me: ERIC! (of course yelling) Why isn't Matt (our worship leader) leading at all in July?!
Eric: I have no idea.
Me: What do you mean you have no idea? Why don't you know anything that goes on at church! You work there! (first of about 1000 overreacting statements that I made in the next 10 days)
Eric: Yes, honey, whom I love dearly. I do work there. But I don't know the in's and out's of everyone's personal schedule.
Me: Well I don't think I can do this if Matt's not leading.
Eric: What?! That's crazy. (If he only knew how crazy it was about to get all up in here). Why would Matt leading have anything to do with you being able to sing?
Me: He's the only one who's heard me sing and not suck so bad. No one else has. What if I suck on Sunday and then everyone thinks I always suck?
Eric: (using his famous male logic) But you don't suck.
Me: But I might. And I pretty much suck at everything so I might as well suck at this. And then everyone at church is going to know I suck and they are going to feel bad for you that you have such a sucky wife.
Yes, this conversation should have been my first clue at my crazy level. But it wasn't. And I got thrown right into Crazyland, USA.
Fast-forward a week and amongst the yelling, crying, and whining (all on my part) I have listened to the songs we are supposed to do this week about 105 times and have convinced myself that I...you guessed it...suck. I couldn't find harmonies that didn't sound like pigs dying. I couldn't remember more than 7 lyrics in a row. I suck.
Fast-forward again to last night during my crazy-filled rant to my husband. Now I have said it before, and I will say it again: I LOOOOVE my husband. God gave me exactly the right man for me. He balances out my woman-crazy with his man-logic. He calls me out when I am just being mean. Or stupid. Or petty. Or D) All of the above. I don't know how anyone could sit and listen to me when I am at my crazy threat-level 58 and not go insane themselves. But he does. And somehow he still loves me.
Anyway, we talked a lot about how Satan knows what gets me. And if you know me at all, you will know it's worry. And the Enemy was taking something that will bring glory to God and joy to me and was skewing it like crazy.
And when I look at it at face-value, I realize that's exactly what was happening. I wasn't even allowing myself to worship or have fun while I was singing these songs. And when that rejoicing is gone, I might as well kill the pigs myself. Nothing good is going to come from that. I was allowing Satan to turn me into a worry-machine on the inside and that manifested itself as a crazy-train on the outside.
So basically, Eric told me I couldn't quit without trying (I would have been too afraid to show my face around the church office after that anyway) and there wasn't really any way I was getting out of it. Dang. I hate when God uses my husband to stretch me.
So if you see me on Sunday with a bucket next to me, don't stare. Just be grateful I am spewing in that instead of on your head :)
And to my husband, sorry. Really sorry. As Darryl (from The Office--really what else would I quote!?) says, "I need you to access your un-crazy side". I'm trying :)
On a positive note, I became an aunt on Monday at 9:36pm. Taylor Marie Fleming was born to my rockstar brother Zach and gorgeous (and if that wasn't enough, she is REALLY REALLY nice and I LOOOVE her) sister-in-law Christina weighing in at 6lbs 13oz and 20". Here is the beautiful new addition and her amazing momma.
Love you sis!