Last night I lost my shit. Properly freaked out in general and got mad at my oldest.
First, you should know that my 13 year old has been putting the clean dishes away for months now. I have a torn bicep tendon in my left shoulder which makes lifting my arm over my head painful and if done repeatedly will cause severe, non-stop pain.
I have this 8 cup capacity measuring cup/mixing bowl that I always use to make pancakes. I love this dish, I could not find it anywhere last night so I hollered at the oldest to come up and find where he put it because I looked in every cabinet. He could not find it.
My boys could not understand why I was so upset. Here’s the thing, my rational brain was like “it’s just a fucking bowl, chill out and use a different one”. My emotional brain was like “I have had this bowl since I sold Pampered Chef when the oldest was a baby and I was a stay at home mom. BEFORE my health went to shit. Before MS and Meniere’s took away so much.”
I used a different bowl to make the pancakes but I was still bummed out and my 7 year old could tell. He offered to organize the kitchen to see if he could find it. Obviously I told him he didn’t need to do that and I will get over it. The only thing I did tell them about why I was upset was that it was my favorite and I have had it for 14 years.
Yes, I overreacted from the outside world I probably look like a drama queen. In my head, this is the last remaining item from when my brain and body worked like it was supposed to. It stupidly represents a time when my life was easier.
I guess I have the topic for my next therapy appointment.