Ideally I could write about my mental health struggles as they occur but usually it’s more unsafe for me to contemplate writing a detailed account while still navigating the crappiness. But recently I had a day with many red flags, triggers and surpassing my breaking point. I identified the triggers and took actionable steps throughout the day.

So, here it is: A day in the fostering slog while battling and managing OCD.

There’s a lot of catching up to do but the short version is we took a placement of two toddlers in January 2024 and we are nearing 16 months of them with us. They are 4 and 3, 11 months apart.

The youngest one has been regressing on sleep for the past 10 days. He wouldn’t fall asleep until 9:30 p.m. or 10, if not later. I have to be in his room with him or in our bedroom beside him until he fell asleep and wouldn’t get out of bed. But then Isabelle and I weren’t getting our time post-bedtime to catch up and destress on the day’s events. Also, the kiddo would wake up during the night so we’d be losing sleep then too.

On a Tuesday shortly after 5 a.m., I woke up with my fingers twitching and my arms grasping for something or someone to hold. These actions are how all my panic attacks originate. Isabelle was still in bed so I held her and the panic attack subsided after about 10 minutes. I fell back asleep until my alarm.

The day before I had to pick up the non-sleeping kiddo from daycare for aggression toward other kids and teachers. It has become so common that he is now on a discipline plan where if the behaviors continue, he will be suspended from daycare for 1-3 days and eventually terminate his enrollment.

I got up with my alarm and got the kids through the morning routine like normal but as I sat to put their shoes on, a creeping sense of hopelessness struck. We’ve had plenty of hopeless moments in the past 16 months but this latest one came at the end of a sobering April. In June 2024 I finally got prescribed medicine to manage my OCD. That medicine keeps my emotions regulated and limits breakdowns from anxiety or depression. I’m an emotional person but the Trintellix keeps me from crying about most things.

I wasn’t sure how daycare was going to go that day. I was already exhausted from the early morning panic attack. I cried as I wished for a break from the current situation. The older kid asked what was wrong and I told her I didn’t know how to keep the younger one from getting in trouble at daycare. She put her hand on my cheek and said, “don’t give up.” It was heartwarming but the heaviness still lingered.

After about 15 minutes of crying, I got the kids in the car and to daycare. Breakfast stops serving at 8:15 so I’m always rolling in minutes before then. Today it was 8:25 and the kids didn’t have a snack in the car as they always do. The administrator asked if they had eaten because it was past mealtime. I said they hadn’t and we would have been on time if someone didn’t have a breakdown. She asked which one did and I said it was me. Thankfully they agreed to give the kids breakfast as I quietly apologized for making us late.

On my way home, I tried switching to work mode but quickly decided I should take a mental health day. The drive from daycare is about 10 minutes. I was about three minutes away from home when I felt an ominous feeling surround my body. My OCD diagnosis stems from the intrusive thoughts I experience in stressful situations. The ominous feeling was my brain filling with suicidal ideations to purposely run a red light and hope I don’t survive.

There is a lot I hope to one day write and process regarding my OCD and history of suicidal thoughts and ideations. But, long story short, my most common suicidal ideation is getting in a car crash. I was so close to home and I knew I could get there. Two stoplights and five turns. Through the stoplights. Just turns. Next thing I knew, I was home and out of the car.

I emailed my boss that I was taking the day off and crawled into bed. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pick up the kids later because I knew I wasn’t safe alone in the car.

I knew I needed sleep and slept for a few hours. I awoke to a text that the kids’ afternoon visit with their mom was canceled for the third time in four weeks. The first time, the littlest kiddo went on a violent rampage at daycare upon realizing the visit supervisor wasn’t coming to pick them up. The second time, I picked up the kids at 3 so no damage could occur again. But today, I couldn’t suggest picking the kids up early because I needed time to recover and I didn’t want to be in a car.

I texted Isabelle at 11:10 a.m. about the intrusive thoughts. Then I texted a friend that we were “going.through.it.” Next, I texted a co-worker and friend who normally checks up on me on Tuesdays: “Not doing well today. Took a mental health day. Intrusive thoughts were on me while driving back from daycare. Made it home and won’t drive again today until it’s safer for me to handle.” At 11:16, I canceled dinner plans we agreed to host for the following night.

I wanted to get out of the house but I couldn’t drive anywhere. I could take an Uber or Lyft but I had to be home at 2:30 to meet a contractor. I wanted to work on a puzzle but my aunt lived too far away. My mother-in-law’s house is about a 20-minute walk away and she had a difficult puzzle she had tabled for many months. At 11:21 I asked if I could come work on the puzzle. She said I could. I then asked if I picked up the kids before Isabelle got home if she could go with me. She said yes to that too.

There’s a group text with my family that is mostly politics-focused but people also share other life events to talk through or vent about. Another fatal flaw of mine is that I don’t ask for help when I should or reach out to someone when I know it’s how I heal and recover. I started the text with “I normally wouldn’t tell this many people in one go. But helps that this group is already formed.” I recapped the lack of sleep, daycare aggression, intrusive thoughts, plans to walk to my mother-in-law’s to puzzle, and plan to pick up the kids later with another person in the car. I ended with lamenting about DCS and this case taking forever to progress and end.

I texted Isabelle at 11:57 a.m. on my plans to walk to her mom’s to puzzle and that she would accompany me to pick up the kids if needed. When I got to my MIL’s house, we talked a bit in the living room but I didn’t share the seriousness of the day. While puzzling, she asked why I was off work and I said I was having a rough day mentally and emotionally. She knows a lot of our frustrations with the placement and DCS’s handling of it, so it’s nice to not have to talk long about anything. My bond with her has grown immensely while fostering and I cannot describe how crucial it was that I had somewhere to go and someone to share space with while my mental wellbeing stabilized and recovered.

The puzzle is not fun or easy. But I think its difficulty and lack of success helped ground me more than if we were sailing through it. I was still unsure how to handle picking up the kids at daycare considering the canceled visit. Isabelle had plans to meet friends that evening and I texted at 1:35 p.m. that I thought she should still go despite the day’s events. I wasn’t certain that I could handle the kids despite everything but in the saga of limited sleep, she needed a break.

I went back home around 2:30 to meet the contractor and sat on the porch until Isabelle got home around 4. By about 3, I realized I was OK to drive alone to pick up the kids. We did get a win at 4:22 p.m. when the kids’ physician called to say the littlest kiddo could have 2-3 mg of melatonin at night. Isabelle left shortly after with her friend and assured me she would come home early if I needed it.

I got melatonin at the pharmacy before picking up the kids. The daycare teachers told them about the canceled visit and the kids cried but didn’t put anyone else in harm’s way while they processed the news. One of the teachers had suggested going to get ice cream to help flip the kids’ emotions. We went to an ice cream stand with a playground near it so they could play. I got hot dogs, fries and then ice cream. The kids behaved well with me, as they normally do, which is a big help when solo parenting.

We came home and I giddily gave the youngest the melatonin. We went upstairs for the bedtime routine and everything went normally. The littlest one was asleep by 8:10 p.m. and I came downstairs and immediately fell asleep on the couch. Isabelle got home and I went upstairs to continue sleeping. She got up with the little one from 1-3 a.m. and I swapped in there until about 6 a.m.

It’s wild to think that a day that started with a panic attack and a breakdown before leaving the house would be a source of the progress I’ve made in therapy and with managing my OCD. There is a lot of bad that happened that Tuesday but I was never in imminent danger, despite those few moments on the drive home from daycare in the morning.

I was always able to identify the triggers and how to navigate them in the safest way, while making contingency plans if the intrusive thoughts didn’t dissipate.

Although I overshared a lot, this post is not a sad one. I have celebrated many aspects of that day and the wins I achieved. The safety I sought and secured. The people who helped me through it unknowingly. And the hope that with medicine and hard work, I can keep battling the OCD and surviving the toughest days.