4 Days of Chaos (and why I had to walk away)

It was a normal long weekend.

On paper, it looks like nice family time.

Everyone is home,

the kids have time off.

But for my brain,

it was a constant sensory attack.

There is mess everywhere.

The moment I clean up a corner,

it gets messy again.

There is a knife covered in chocolate on the counter,

leaving sticky marks.

There are extra friends over,

because staying inside is boring.

There is loud laughing, shifting into slamming doors and silbings fighting.

My battery is empty

I try all my tools.

I repeat my mantra:

It is okay that the house is messy.

It is normal that kids make noise. 

I put in earplugs to block the sharpest sounds.

I go to a quiet room.

I do breathing exercises.

I go for short walks.

But it drains all my energy.

I can literally feel the last bit of energy leaving my body.

My stomach feels tight.

My body shivers.

And I realize:

I cannot carry this.

Not for four days straight.

The explosion

I can feel a meltdown coming.

In the past, this was the moment I would explode and get angry.

Not because I was truly mad, but because my brain was simply too full.

But now, I see it coming.

I don't want to scream.

I want to be a loving mother.

So, there is only one option:

I have to leave.

I walk out the front door.

I walk a few metres away from the house, and I just start crying.

To my children (if you ever read this)

This is the part where the guilt and shame kick in.

It feels so sad that I cannot just "be there" for four days.

I look at my husband.

He doesn’t like the mess and the noise either, but he can stay in the room.

He can carry it.

I can't.

But I want to say something very clearly to my children:

This is not your fault. You are not "too much." 

You are doing exactly what normal, happy kids are supposed to do.

You are allowed to make noise,

to leave chocolate on the counter,

and to get bored.

The problem is not your behavior.

The problem is that my brain processes sound, light, and mess at maximum volume.

My battery is just smaller.

Looking for a name

I am trying to be kind to myself.

My brain works differently.

Things that are easy for others are very hard for me.

I don't have an official diagnosis yet.

I am thinking about starting a diagnostic pathway for neurodivergence soon.

But it makes me feel nervous, unsure, and honestly, a bit ashamed.

But I know I am not the only mother who feels this way.

Sometimes, the most loving thing I can do for my family is to leave the room, stand in the quiet, and just cry.