It's All Fun & Games Until It's Not...

When even the happiest places don't always live up to your expectations

I had been looking forward to yesterday’s Mermaid Parade at Coney Island (my true happy place 🤩 and part of my Fun Practice) for months.

The whole morning went super smoothly. Weather was perfect; baby had a well-timed nap; we made it out of the house in time to hop in the same train car as my good friend coming from midtown (it’s the best when you’re able to pull off such a coordinated feat with a baby!); we made it to Coney Island with time to spare before the parade started.

While my partner and my friend attempted to erect our beach tent (emphasis on attempted), I went for a walk with our baby down the beach. He was happy to have his feet touching the sand, but when he fell and he got sand all over his hands, he freaked out.

Then things took a turn for the worse. In my head that is.

It was harder than usual to calm him. So I brought him back to our base on the beach where the men were still trying to figure out the tent.

The wind was picking up. It blew over the beach chair we had set up. The blown up air bed we had staked into the sand was taking on a life of its own, flying around and knocking more things over. Sand was blowing into our eyes.

I was starting to feel very very hot, which made me worry my baby must be feeling very very hot too. I asked my partner to stop with the tent.

Golf carts driven by security guards, one with a young girl as a passenger, were speeding back and forth past us. She must have lost her parents. I imagined what the parents must be feeling and it made me sick. I knew I needed to just breathe, but I didn’t want to take my attention off my baby for even a second, especially with the commotion happening around us. The men were still focused on the tent. My baby was still crying.

Then another young missing girl showed up. There was a language barrier. I was trying to stay calm, I didn’t want to make my friend uncomfortable. I tried to eat thinking that might help calm me down but I could barely swallow. Plus my food was now covered in sand.

I checked the time. Half an hour had passed since we got to the beach. The girls still weren’t reunited with their parents. I could hear the parade starting. Part of me worried that this parade was going to be a target for some hateful protests, or worse. I started to feel worse.

I noticed that my body was not responding to my thoughts. I could intellectually see that everything was ok. Sand was not going to kill my baby. It was not actually that hot, contrary to how I felt. I had enough water. My baby just ate. But my heart was still racing.

I became paranoid that I might not have control of my body when I was the only one paying attention to my baby. I didn’t want to hurt him by accident.

Then my mind went to the mom who drowned her three children on this very beach, maybe this very spot, last fall. What was her state of mind? It must have been so awful. I was imagining that horrible energy. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t.

I was beginning to spiral.

I knew I was probably having a panic attack, but I was worried that if I acknowledged and vocalized what was happening, it would get worse. I just needed a moment to breathe and center myself, knowing my baby was being watched. I asked my partner to hurry with the tent.

Then I heard the voice of a woman from the prior evening, yelling at her husband to hurry as he brought napkins to the table where she was feeding her toddler. It was so rude and felt, to me, very unnecessary.

I had made a mental note to myself to not talk to my partner that way.

But I wanted to scream at him right now. I needed help and didn’t feel like I was getting it, but also didn’t know how to ask. I just couldn’t describe it. It was so overwhelming. I didn’t think my partner would understand.

The woman from the restaurant Friday night was still in my head. “I can’t describe it,” she had said, putting her head in her hands after her husband brought the napkins, “it’s just so overwhelming. You don’t understand.”

Objectively, the situation was not overwhelming, so I knew she must have not been in a good place. I had made another mental note to not let myself get to that place.

Oh how the universe can be so funny.

I was doing everything in my power to stay grounded. I knew objectively that the situation was not overwhelming, but I didn’t know if I could wait another minute.

Please stop, please, I begged the men. I was burning hot. Sand was blowing all over the place. This was decidedly not fun.

They stopped. But I was so activated at this point, it was very difficult to deactivate.

My partner and friend (my college roommate!) have my back. I know they do. I wasn’t mad at them, but I was so focused on trying to keep it together (and my baby safe in the process) that I couldn’t vocalize what help I needed.

You don’t understand…it’s so overwhelming…I can’t describe it…hurry…

Why do I share this?

Well, it sure felt like a reminder from the universe to not judge other parents. Point taken.

If I (with plenty of maturity, resources, mental health, and support, not to mention a relatively healthy and calm baby) could get so worked up from my baby crying over some damn sand, well…

Also, one reason it’s hard for me to ask for emotional help from my partner (aside from my own childhood baggage) is that he is (as I’ve described here many times) so damn good at managing his mental states, it makes me feel like I should (and can!) better manage mine.

But sometimes we fucking need help. And it’s way more important to be honest about that and listen to yourself than try to follow advice or live up to someone else’s standards. Especially when you are worried that someone else might not understand.

Finally, I hope that my friends here know I will do my best to understand if you ever need help. As much as I write about “fun,” and think it’s important to strive to have more of it, I am not all fun (and honestly, I wouldn’t trust anyone who is!).

For what it’s worth, the day overall was wonderful, there were so many elaborate mermaid costumes that really lit me up 🧜‍♀️, and by the time a random hail storm hit, I was able to take it in stride 🌈.

Coney Island (aka my happy place). August 2021