I find myself in a situation tonight that I’m not sure how to interpret. And I guess it’s more than “finding myself in a situation” because I am the one who actually created the situation. So it’s really my choices that I am questioning. And it’s embarrassing. But it’s also the truth, and because of that, I will share it.
I live in the middle of farm land. My house is surrounded on multiple sides by corn fields. And with corn fields, sometimes come mice. Ordinarily, they come over the course of one week sometime in the fall. My cat will catch one in the kitchen here and there over the course of the week, and then it’s over. It’s horrible and traumatic, and I dread that week every year, but it’s always very contained. My safe haven is always my upstairs. I tell myself I can stay in my house as long as I have my bedroom to retreat to.
And then yesterday came. I woke up and was nursing Baby Mae in my lazy boy and out of the blue, a mouse ran from what I believe was my husband’s closet, halfway across the floor. I don’t remember if I screamed right away or if it just sensed me, but it immediately turned around and ran right back to where it came from. Hopefully it was TJ’s closet, but if not, it was a bad of all of little Mae’s new clothes.
Honestly, I had no idea what to do. I started shaking really bad, and I started talking out loud to myself (something I do only in incredibly intense emotional experiences.) I knew that I had to pass right by where the mouse had been to get out of my room, and I knew I needed to keep Mae safe and get the girls out of their room, and I knew I needed to take some clothes with me. And I needed to do all of this while trying to maintain some semblance of calm so the bigger girls wouldn’t sense anything was wrong.
Somehow I did all of this. I think perhaps the only thing that got me out that door was the knowledge that if I didn’t leave, I might see it again, and so I decided to take the run. I made it into the girl’s room, and I started frantically calling TJ. It took me a couple of tries before he heard his phone, but when I did, even I was shocked by the sound of my voice. I could barely get words out. I was trembling like I’ve only had happen after giving birth. I kept willing myself to think clearly and yet there were just alarms sounding in my head.
See, I don’t just “not like” mice. I don’t just think they are gross. They don’t just startle me. I have a full fledged, major phobia of them. I am worlds better than I was six years ago when we moved into our house, but my mental coping mechanisms only go so far, and when the mouse entered the one room I found sacred and the place I retreat to in order to calm down my head at the end of the day, well I don’t handle that all that well.
I guess it wasn’t until this experience that I realized just how much of what little peace I have comes from that time at the end of the day to decompress. I need those 20 minutes to nurse Mae and then I need to be able to lay in bed and read my book until I fall asleep — I need those things in order to put together the chaos that I always feels circles around me. It’s where and when I find what little center I have.
And so then I was left with what to do. I desperately wanted to be the person who stood up to the mouse and refused to make my life smaller by allowing it to take over a part of my home. I desperately wanted to feel some sort of control over my life, and I clearly saw that since mice aren’t going to be wiped off the planet anytime soon, the only way to get that is to refuse to give a mouse that control over me. I needed to overcome my fear.
And I would say that over and over, and I would think of the words of others who helped me learn this lesson. I would fortify myself. And then I would blink, and I would see that mouse in my mind’s eye very clearly, and the panic would come back as strong as ever.
That’s one thing I’ve learned about panic over the last six months or so. I can work really hard to mentally get on top of it. I can expend great amounts of energy and use every ounce of mental reserve I have, but the panic is much quicker and much stronger, and it can undo all of that clear thinking in the amount of time it takes to blink.
And so I left. I actually spent a rather pleasant day out of the house. And then, this is the part I am ashamed of, we got a hotel. And we are still here tonight.
Logically, the hotel made sense. Mae sleeps in that room with me. Magoo often chooses to sleep on the floor rather than in her bed. We needed to get rid of the mouse upstairs, and the only way to do it was really quickly was to saturate the place with snap traps. And strong and brave or not, there is no way I can sleep in a room waiting for one of 15 snap traps to snap and hear the squeal of the dying rodent.
So yea, it makes sense.
But I just wanted to be more than that.
I sit here in the hotel room filled with my little girls, and I think how they will learn from me how to face their fears. Who knows what they will be afraid of (I pray they don’t have a phobia like this) but what will they do with it? Will they think the normal thing to do is hide, or will they think the normal thing to do is stand up and fight back? As I’ve said before, I’ve always had great role models, and I know the right thing to do is stand up and fight. But this time…
And I could make excuses. I remind myself that I’m less than three weeks postpartum. That I’m sleep deprived. That I still haven’t found my center after all of these life changes that have happened. That I’m adjusting to a new station in life and that requires a place of peace.
I could and can and do say all of these things. But deep down, I know that I still could have fought back.
As long as the traps stay clear tonight, we will go back home tomorrow. If there are more caught, we might stay another night — we’ve already made the decision, we might as well see it to conclusion.
And I am relieved. I am relieved that I was able to bring the family here and find some peace at the end of the day. I’m relieved I was given the opportunity to sleep soundly. (I didn’t sleep soundly because I dreamt about the mouse the whole night, and even when awake, every time I would blink, I would see it again.) I feel blessed that Terry understood enough to know that while staying and fighting is ideal, there are times when that doesn’t work. There are times when more complex psychological change needs to occur before someone can just “buck up.” There are times staying and fighting is just mean.
And I do know how very blessed I am for him. He has given up a lot over the last two days — buying out every mousetrap in the tri-city area and setting them all, running home before work each morning to check the traps and let the dog out, sleeping in a bed that is not his own — all for me and my peace of mind. And he doesn’t see it as a sacrifice so much. He sees it as doing what needs to be done so I can take care of our girls in the manner in which they and we deserve. and for all of that, I am truly blessed.
But yea. Despite all of those feelings of relief and blessing, my biggest emotion is disappointment in myself. But I guess this just buys me some time to work on some of those desensitization techniques so next time it won’t be quite as traumatic. But as anyone who has ever had a true phobia knows, those desensitization techniques are terrifying.
So today I was not the woman I want to be for my daughters. And I can’t undo that. So I guess all I can do is offer myself grace and mercy, and at least show them by example how to forgive themselves when they fail to live up to their expectations. I’m not perfect.
**I apologize for not proofing this. I am loathe to see how many typos I must have. But this mama is seeing cross eyed and needs to get to sleep. I trust you all will forgive me 🙂