The twins were 3 months old, Will was 18 months old, and I was utterly alone. It was the first time in my life that I didn't have any hope.
I had just found out (on my anniversary) that not only had my husband been cheating on me and charging up my credit cards on weekend escapades with his then girlfriend (and now his current wife), but he had just gotten her pregnant. He had convinced me to let him use said credit card saying that a friend of his was in trouble and had gotten into a car accident, and he was going to Texas to help them out. Unfortunately, I believed him. When I called him in his hotel room, a woman answered. I put two and two together and realized that the situation was quite different than he had explained it. I was told by a hotel employee what was found in the room when he left the premises after I had called to report the credit card stolen: a postive pregnancy test on the counter. I really can't remember a time in my life that I felt more like dying than that moment.
So, I cried for a couple of hours and I went to Target. Just to be able to go somewhere outside of my sad little basement that was now sure to be my permanent home for awhile and take my mind off of the misery.
Now, for those of you who know me, you know how perky I am on a daily basis. This was different. I actually felt bad for how miserable I felt, and for each person that passed me that I didn't smile at, I felt even worse.
To make matters even more depressing... it was four days before Valentine's Day, so the whole store was decked out in hearts and fuzzy wuzzy "I love you" stuff. If that doesn't make you suicidal after everything that just happened, I don't know what would.
Then... something struck me. I saw this Valentine's display out of the corner of my eye, and these giant coffee mugs that were utterly ridiculous looking. I stopped and LAUGHED. OUT LOUD. And, I couldn't stop laughing. It felt so good to finally be able to smile, if only for a fleeting second.
Maybe it was because I was temporarily out of my mind with grief. Maybe it's because I really needed something to laugh about. But, I'm telling you - to this day this mug makes me giggle every time I see it.
There is just something completely insane about a turtle with a singing bird on it's back that is laugh-worthy.
So, to begin my morning ritual, this mug is the first thing I pull out of the cabinet, and I smile.
Sometimes, that's one of the handful of times I would smile in a day, depending on what was happening.
Coffee in the morning began to slowly save me from myself. There were days that I literally was too depressed to get out of the house, out of my pajamas, and out of my sadness. I could scarcely move. I felt like someone had put a lead jacket over my whole body... like the coat the dentist puts on you before they take x-rays of your mouth, but 3 times as heavy. Everything hurt. Everything made me cry. But, that mug, and my coffee.... silly as it sounds, saved me.
I didn't even drink coffee before all of this happened. I was struck with the reality of having to raise three tiny boys on my own, and I didn't have enough energy within myself to get it done. Strangely, once I had a nice strong cup of coffee, my hands began to move when my mind didn't. I was in a perpetually frozen state inside my head, consumed with shock and pain, and yet I was able to accomplish daily tasks after a relaxing cup of joe.
Of course, being a rookie coffee drinker, it can't just be coffee. It has to be a sugary, tan work of art.
Creamer - preferably a chocolate-y kind.
A packet of stevia.
Enough milk to make it tan. :)
And, a whole bunch of whipped cream to top it off.
It's like my therapy. My morning get-off-your-rear-and-do-something-so-you-won't-be-sad-today therapy. So, every morning, instead of letting the fog settle in, I burn it up with caffeine - and live.