So I had a moment of complete insanity (on my part) at skating practice this week. Seriously -- I kicked a wall. So not me...
I'm trying to decide if I'm just tired and hormonal or if there is something deeper going on with my psyche -- like delayed postpartum depression. I AM tired, yes. And I AM hormonal (still nursing Violet plus my cycle hasn't started back up yet). And I am dreading the next month with Scott being gone for, well over half of the month. But my frustration and lack of motivation seem primarily to be tied to the skating, which is why I'm not yet sure if this is a medical issue or not. Plus, I've now come down with a whopper of a cold, so I don't know how that was affecting me on Wednesday night.
I do know that I felt sort of claustrophobic on the ice -- and that my every thought was one of negativity and annoyance. I lacked focus as I mostly thought about playing with the kids. And then we hit a point in practice where we were trying stuff and I was failing time and time again... that's the moment when I kicked the wall. The delicious pain in my toe was endlessly more comforting than the anger I was feeling. I was mad at myself and trying not to cry and somehow, kicking the wall made sense in that moment. But it didn't seem to work too well as mere minutes later I had spilled over and was stammering a confession to my shocked team: I don't really want to skate anymore. I'm tired of practicing and practicing and not getting things, of watching other skater's skills pass me by... of feeling desolate on that thin sheet of ice... deserted...
Most of my stunned teammates rallied around me, something which has actually embarrassed me. I don't do things to seek kudos from people; I dislike superficial back-patting. I started skating as a personal journey and have gotten sick of the ride, quite honestly. And no amount of "we need you" or "you are a very valuable and iportant member of the team" or "we'd be lost without you" is going to help me enjoy the scenery right now -- I didn't have that little meltdown to gain praise, it was something that slipped through before I could contain it. I know that without me, the team is down to the bare minimum required for competition, so if I leave and any other team member has a life change, we're (they're) not able to compete. And I'd be forever guilty of ending that because I truly love my teammates.
Practically, my mind knows that I could likely get the same amount of non-work/non-mom time if I took an hour long Pilates class at the local gym. I wouldn't have to worry about driving late at night in bad weather or, likely, hiring a sitter as often for when Scott is at rehearsal. I would get entire evenings back -- it's a three-hour round trip every time I go to the rink: drive 35 minutes there, skate, drive 35 minutes back. I'm sick of the drive -- most days. Some early spring mornings I am struck by the pastoral beauty of our state. But most evenings, I'm either driving into the sun or watching for deer in the dusk.
As always, Scott is supportive. He doesn't seem to think that I am stuggling in other aspects of life, but I feel my base laziness has been eroding some productivity -- mostly at work, though some of that involves me waiting on other people, so that may not be me, either.
It's just that I believe that I am one of the most patient people I know -- just apparently not with myself. I don't like causing drama, but that's what happened on the ice, in front of my teammates. I'm a workhorse, though, and refuse to leave the team mid-season, and know that the team is only as strong as it's weakest skater, so I strive to never be the weakest. I just wish that I had the physical capability to be one of the strongest. Or maybe the mental toughness to weather the storm in the mean time.
Maybe the wall I'm kicking isn't just at the side of the rink.