Mama Needs a Refill

Even more than the coffee, I got my "fix" yesterday writing with a friend. The words, the silence, the sharing, the pen on the blank page....aahh, refilled cup for me.

We often want a quick fix. I haven’t taken time for me, I’m totally spent, kids are pushing my envelope, fill me up quick, help me now.

A couple weeks ago my son was feeling overwhelmed, the number of things AI asked him to do were crowding his brain and suffocating his big heart.

Mom, your ice is thin right now, he told me gritting his teeth.

My coffee snorted out of my nose. Of course like all poignant sayings that spill from his mouth this one came in a paraphrased version of my past words to him, You are walkin’ on thin ice buddy.

In moments of instability, high stress, mounting anxiety, chaos, we want a quick fix. When we feel empty we often reach for a quick filler: cup of coffee, glass of wine, handful of chocolate or chips. We react fast, seeking comfort in salt, sweets, alcohol, caffeine.

We KNOW these things won’t make the stress go away but they provide temporary comfort.

My son’s quick fix is a hug. Mama I can’t calm down until you hug me.

Mine is food-don’t touch me, give me something salty.

Even when we take care of our needs and create time every day for ourselves we can still have moments of needing a quick fix.

I am working on being more aware of my quick fix needs and discovering new alternatives.  (Crack-meth to obvious, the flask in the fleece inside pocket too heavy.)

Breathing works. Not the futile Lamaze breathing, but the one, long slow breath.

I am no longer slipping on ice, but standing on solid ground, my mouth not craving salt, my quick fix residing right in my soul. Waiting for me at the center of my being.

Perhaps not as fun as food or drugs at first. But after practice it’s “a piece of cake.”