Coffee Cold Turkey + Car Crashes + Commotion

So, yesterday was an "interesting" day.

I gave up coffee on Tuesday, trying to detox a bit, trying to align what I put in my body with how I'd ideally like to look and feel.  In short, just trying to climb out of "struggling" and morph into a zen-like creature, swanning around with beautiful skin and a serene look in my face, whilst wearing activewear... carrying a bottle of healthy green juice and smiling lovingly at my children as I wave them off for school... perhaps off to a yoga class?

(These sorts of women actually exist you know)

Anyways... I digress.

So I have this crazy headache.  I go to bed with it, and wake up with it.  It's one of those headaches where if you move suddenly it makes it much worse. I was, yeah, pretty grumpy.

So I am racing to pick up Leon and Louis closely followed by Amelie, after picking up Eliza on what I fondly refer to as the 'magical' 100 mile school run (picking up on the sarcasm, much?) - I am pulled up at the lights, and Eliza is crazy yelling at me.  The journey to school is nice, I listen to a podcast (sometimes loud hip hop if I feel inclined) but the way back?  To say I have listened to the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack a billion times sounds like an exaggeration, but in my soul it really doesn't :( 

So Eliza is screaming bloody murder at me to put her soundtrack on, and I am kinda yelling back at her, and I look down to find my phone, look up... lights are green and then 'THUNK' whack into the lovely Ford Mustang convertible in front of me, and they tap into the car in front.  

Now, I was doing about 2 miles an hour, but my car is a beast so I pranged that sporty little number fairly well. The driver is about, 12 (ok, ok, 17...) and is on the phone to his (I assume rich) father to break the bad news.

I was so shocked, I rang babe straight away in a panic - 'what do I do? save me, save me...' and he tells me where all the paperwork is, he of course is as calm as a swaddled child in a moses basket.

We pull over somewhere safe, and wait for the police. I don't know what happens... but I start crying.  I do the usual tipping my head my head back to collect the droplets, the 'I'm in labor' puffing to get my breath back but none of the usual avoid-awkward-crying techniques are working.

By this point, I am getting fairly hysterical.  And I'm not a beautiful crier either.  I'm not one of those girls that sheds a glistening tear, with the lips pouting alluringly - I'm seriously a crazy ugly crier.  Ugly expression, big ol' red puffy face, snot - the works.

The 12 year old is looking at me rather alarmed, and comes over - as I roll my window down reluctantly.  He pats my arm awkwardly and says it's ok.  His Dad turns up and brings us water (super sweet) and I would love to tell you I was all done by the time Officer Jeff showed up.

Nope.

When Officer Phil arrived 10 minutes later?

Nope.

(Officer Jeff and Officer Phil were literally just like American officers in the movies: avuncular, kind, authoritative without being scary.  They called me 'Miss' and told me kindly that I had no need to cry because very little damage had been done, and everyone was fine... they even said 'you drive safe now' as they finished up.  Just. Like. The. Movies.)

Soooooo... All the time I am crying (a grand total of 2 hours, picking Leon and Louis up an hour late, and then Amelie - by the time we got home at 5pm I was pretty much done, save a few indulgent moments), I am talking to myself in words I would never say aloud let alone to another person.  My thoughts oddly go to punishing myself in some way (I thought: not eating anything maybe for the rest of the day?) and I berate myself over, and over, and over.  Idiot. Clumsy. Reckless. Inattentive. Bad mother. Bad driver. Just an all-round bad person.

This isn't normal for me, not to that extent anyhoo, but in that moment - that highly charged, highly emotive moment - my mind just went to town on me, totally unrestrained.

It really made me think today... What's my crisis / panic mode like?  And the truth is, not good at all.  I totally LOSE perspective - I just lose it.  

You know, the strange thing is I listened to my podcast on the drive up to Eliza's school and Miles Adcox was being interviewed about a strategy to use when emotions run high, how to step away and emotionally scan yourself when the going gets tough and recalibrate.

Coincidence?  I think not!

True, I still lost it, about 1 hour after listening :) but I had it right there, ready at just the right moment: a foundation to think from and work from - and change. It just struck me that this really is a work in progress, life. You think you have it all figured out some days, and others... well, somedays it feels like nothing makes sense at all. But that doesn't mean giving up or giving in - it just means some things you have to fight harder for, and some fights take a looooooooong time.

This morning, that sniping voice started again as soon as I looked at the bent fender, and as 'Service Park Assist' blinked on the dash when I turned on the ignition.  But, at least it was quieter.

I sat in the car, and said "SHUT UP" out loud just to make it stop (which Eliza then chirped in her sing-song voice repeatedly as we drove down the street) but hey... it's a start.

And it may well all have been a divine intervention to never, ever give up coffee cold turkey 😂