Mental Bandwidth and How I Just Don't Have Enough

You know, I used to be a really difficult person. I was never happy. I was irritable and cranky and I yelled a lot.

Then I got a divorce.

I know how that sounds, but it's true. After the divorce, I felt like a new person. I felt free and happy. I slept well; I laughed; I got along with the world at large. I lowered my volume and raised my intensity and I was happy.

Until this week.

I can't go into a lot of the details, because even I have learned some lessons from Dooce. But it has been a rough week. It started on Friday, actually and it's been going downhill ever since. Every day it feels a little worse, a little thinner, a little more crazy around here. And I am nigh on miserable about it.

I'd say I'm not sleeping, but that wouldn't be true. I didn't sleep for about three days, then I got stung by a yellow jacket. In an attempt to help my hand regain it's normal size, I've been taking Benadryl at night and it's a little like being really drunk, except not fun.

I've been eating crazy. I realized yesterday that I hadn't had a meal since the previous day's lunch. I had however, had about 72 Twizzlers if my trash was any indication.

But worst of all, I have had zero patience. I've been yelly and miserable. Which means my kids have been miserable because you know, when mama ain't happy...

Then, this morning I read this article about how dieting makes you dumber. It's really not about dieting or dumbness, actually. It's about how dieting and poverty and making do with less steals your mental bandwidth.

It makes sense, really. We shouldn't have needed Harvard researchers to tell us that there is only so much room in your thought processes and you are most certainly wasting some of it if you are worried about something.

For me, right now, it's not dieting. It's not even my shaky financial situation. It's my job. It's the stress of staying in my job. It's the feeling like no matter what they say, it may not be here tomorrow. It's the understanding that even if I have a place to hang up my purse and get to work, that work may change. The atmosphere most definitely is changing. And I don't think I like those changes.

Two months ago, I dyed my hair pink. I've wanted to do this forever and ever. I did it, finally, because I could. I wanted to, there was no reason not to and I deserved it. But foremost in my mind was the idea that I had a certain amount of job security. A job that would not be affected by my pink hair. Now, I find myself wondering what this means for my pink hair.

And I'm being metaphorical. The thing with pink hair is that you can always make it black again.

But my whole sense of self lately has had a lot to do with the peace and security I had with a job I liked, a boss I loved, a house that I could fix up, kids that I adore and a life that made me happy. I have already lost one of those items and I am not taking it well.

My virtual memory is running low. I am running out of bandwidth.

What happens next? I don't know. And that is primarily what is making me crazy. Hopefully, I learn to turn off the worry when I walk out the door for the day. Hopefully, everything evens out and the world starts to make sense again.

It's not like I can upgrade my connection.