I didn’t take many photos of these, but here are the lovely end results!

When I bought the house, these three walls were stucco. Here’s their transformation!

Even though there are “only three” steps shown here, the kitchen was a beast: I thought re-painting those cabinets was going to be the death of me!

For some reason, my parents were particularly obsessed with getting my laundry room PERFECT. But I’m tremendously grateful: they generously bought me a new washer and dryer! Check out the process:

Had a good session with my beloved therapist tonight, and she encouraged me to go home and journal about what stood out to me.

I said, “I’ll write a blog post … since I apparently like to publicize my breakdowns.” 🙂

Had a couple this holiday weekend. Talked with my editor last Wednesday and Thursday and was overwhelmed by that. My editor is amazing, brilliant, compassionate, and full of great instincts– but I maintain that critique is hard no matter what! I had given myself 2-3 weeks after the original feedback to prepare myself for revisions, but those weeks were up and now I didn’t have the luxury of letting everything marinate awhile.

So I started revisions on Thursday night.

It did not go well.

I sent my editor a spastic email.

The next day did not go well either.

I sent another spastic email– well, actually two.

Each time my editor responded (yes, even on the Fourth of July; she’s a gem) to calm me down.

I still was freaking out.

Then I crashed. TOTAL CRASH. To a dark, hopeless place where I couldn’t generate any excitement or energy. This part is often way scarier to me than the manic alive-ness of panic … the dull, quiet deadness of depression.

Time in scripture and in prayer pulled me back out of it– in a major, visible, crazy way. It was almost like a hand reached down and pulled me out of the sinkhole and set me on solid ground.

Tonight, in recounting those four days to my therapist, she reminded me that the body can only function in such intense high-alert panicky for so long before it needs to go into survival mode– which, in this case, is to essentially shut down. It’s doldrums as a rescue method (my words, not hers), and it makes a lot of sense to me.

Next time I have a high-alert buzzing go-go-go huge anxiety panic mode and then an immediate crash, I will recognize it (I think) for what it is and give myself some intense self-care.

TL;DR: body can only function in high-alert panic mode for so long before it has to crash to take care of itself. Next time I’ll be ready.