I've pinpointed my stress.

I mean, I know exactly where it is coming from.

I feel like I had a therapeutitical revelation yesterday and I diagnosed myself or should I say, Self Actualized.

That's after I diagnosed myself: Crazy.

And that was after I actually went crazy. On poor Zach.....

It was via text message, so I feel like that's not as bad because he couldn't hear the craziness in my voice and couldn't see the craziness in my eyes or hair.

But he knows me well enough to figure it out I suppose.

And really, he probably caught a glimpse of the crazy sometime at the beginning of the week, or in the middle of the week, or really, any moment leading up to my mental breakthrough.

It's been rough to say the least.

So rough that I had turned into a really, really ugly version of myself.

I was cranky, snappy, irritable, loud, intolerant, naggy, whiny(That one is kind of the worst, well right after naggy) and an emotional roller coaster of crying to sobbing to bursting into uncontrollable sobs and back to just the sniffles.

Oh. My. Word.

I kind of hated myself this week and at the end of it, reflecting back, it's a good thing Zach and I are legally binded together....

I've said it before, I don't handle stress well.

Or at all.

I used to think that it was because I was so laid back that things never really stressed me out. And when they did, they always snuck up on me and so I was unprepared.

That is wrong.

Sure, I'm laid back, but everybody deals with stress. Everybody.

And I've done fine before, why the sudden change now? Especially now that I'm an adult.

In college we had all of these classes trying to discover who we are and what kind of personality we had.

Part of one of the classes, or maybe two of the classes each year, was taking a stress test. Not like the ones at the doctors office where you squeeze a ball and walk on a treadmill. But the one where you filled out a questionnaire of all of the significant happenings in your life and the test decided how high the level of stress you were feeling. Because, apparently, it was unclear to us until we had taken the test. I think actually, they were just making sure we were all mentally stable. Like, no pending suicide attempts.

During my freshman year, when I took the test, I had moved to the dorms, my grandmother had just died, my dad had major, life threatening cancer, I had just broken up with my boyfriend(poor Zach....) and I was playing a college sport. Um, my stress level was just a little high that year.

The next year was ok. There were a few things, my uncle had cancer, I was on disciplinary probation at school(You'll never guess for why. I'll just tell you. For being late to curfew too many times the year before. That's right, the last write-up I received was the last day you could actually get one during finals week the year before. My RA really liked me, can't you tell? Plus aren't you shocked I got in trouble for being late? I know, I'm never late.). Except maybe I was a little crazy after everything that had happened that year. Oh also, the Dean of Women told me that being late was a sin. She really made an impression, didn't she? But all in all, that year was a bit more relaxed.

My junior year, I had to take a similar class for my major. At that time, I had just returned from living over seas, my little brother had cancer, I learned my older brother was gay, I switched majors, and my dad was in recovery. So my stress level was again high.

Senior year, was ok, the worst. I got married, I had to learn how to live with a boy, then my dad died, I was the poorest I had ever been in my entire life and at the end of the year I found out I was pregnant.

Yikes.

But I totally did fine during those years. (Probably because that song, "What's the dealio dealio, whats the d d d d deal. DEAL!" was super popular though. That's probably what got me through....) What's my problem today?

I'm a stay at home mom, with two really well behaved children. What on earth am I complaining about?

Maybe I'm that person that will always find something to complain about. Like, I'll always want to bitch about everything. I don't know.

But right now, it seems, there are some major life decisions facing me. Decisions, changes, improvements in my life that need to be seriously taken care of. I have a check list that is like three pages long and nothing is getting ticked off of the list. And that is where my stress lies.

I'm a huge checklist person. I need to write lists and I need to check everything off of my lists. And I'm not checking anything off of my lists these days. All of these huge issues are just sitting there, gathering dust or being rewritten dozens of times in different ways hoping to be forcefully scratched out with my favorite blue pen. But nothing is happening. And I am going bananas.

I like to be in control, completely in charge of every situation facing me. Even if I am struggling to make a decision, if that is all we're waiting on, then I'm totally and 100% fine with it. No stress. Or if it's something like Cancer, where nobody has control but God, then again, I'm totally fine following His will, His plan. Whatever will be, will be. Que Sirrah Sirrah.

When, I'm not ok, which is the case right now, is when I have to wait on other people. And with all 30 items on the Check List only one of the items is in my control right now. And I don't even have to worry about that one until July(Although I do have to start the decision making process this early, otherwise it will be a step and repeat in July).

So these other, major issues, nagging at my nerves and pulling at my patience, are completely out of my control for the moment. And until I figured that out yesterday, I was seriously afraid of a nervous breakdown.

And all of this self-realization only took a total freak out at the love of my life. I actually caught not only him, but myself totally off guard. Snapped. Let it all out. And do you know how he responded to me?

"Um, I'm really confused right now."

Isn't he perfect? I would have been pissed. But here he is, assessing my level of crazy, and simply asks me to explain.

And then, when I was forced to explain, I was able to figure out why I had snapped to begin with.

And voila. I'm like a thousand times better. You can say that everything will work out, that everything will be fine and all of that. But when it comes right down to it, there has to be a moment of truth when you actually realize there is absolutely nothing else you can do.

So even if I'm frustrated still, at least I'm not crazy. Or blaming myself. Or even lashing out uncontrollably at all of those around me. It's out of my control and up to those other Yahoos and for some reason that is a totally freeing feeling.

Plus tomorrow, I get a day without kids or responsibility. Hallelujah.

I'm joining my mom and her friend Katie, and then my dear friend Melinda on a trip to Fremont for a Beth Moore simulcast.

I don't love Beth Moore. She's not my favorite. Ok, and I should be fair, it doesn't have anything to do with her. It has everything to do with meeting her daughter in Switzerland and a tiny little girl named Katie who thought people got married on Thursdays. But that my friends, is a different story for a different time.

Anyways, I love conferences though and learning and sitting and taking notes and I will love the solitude and quiet of the simulcast. It won't be quiet and I won't be alone you say? Well, there will only be one person talking at a time and there will only be one thing for me to do, which is sit and take notes and listen, so in my head yes, I will be alone to my own quiet, barely interrupted thoughts.