Being a parent isn’t easy and I really do wish they came with instructions but they don’t. My children were sick this weekend and I took Friday and Monday off since they wanted nothing to do with Dad, just Mommy. Over the weekend, I realized how hard it is to balance work and life. I felt guilty because I took time to be with my children. How is it that although I invest more than 10 hours a week in free overtime I feel guilt over taking time to snuggle with babies that will only one be 1 and 2 for a short while?
I remember I used to enjoy life. The thought of children although scary was also thrilling to have a little mini version of you to chase around as giggles fill the air. What happened to me? I look outside and I’m scared. I look at my children as they hold up their arms for me to care and I think I wish I could feel and I know that I should. I know that I love them and I say it to them but I wonder if they feel my love when I don’t feel it. What happened to me?
It has been a long time since I have been on here. It feels like ages. Truthfully, life seems to have gotten in the way. As I have stated in the past, most of you know that I suffer from anxiety and depression. My husband and I talked to our doctor about whether I would qualify for a service dog. Turns out I do.
Teddy is just 8 months old and he is an owner trained service dog in training. I’m struggling with him, not in the sense that he is bad but in the sense that people see him and they want to know whats wrong with me. Having Teddy is like this giant label and regardless I will carry my label as long as Teddy is with me because he does help. I feel like I got duped into thinking that normal does exist when truthfully it doesn’t. What do you think?
How do I let things go? Here I am trying to make it through the day and all want to do it call it quits. My husband read my last blog and I could tell that it really affected him. I didn’t mean to make him feel bad but what I wanted was to tell someone how I feel. He is my partner in crime except when it comes to my depression and anxiety. How do I tell him that it really isn’t him that it’s me. How do I tell him that there are moments when I wish I want here and that no matter how much I want to say I love you I just can’t. There is this invisible wall that doesn’t let me escape that no matter how much I want to be there and enjoy the moment I just can’t. How do I tell him that there are times when I don’t want to be here and I know its not right to feel like that but I do?
Anxiety and depression… I went to the doctor’s. My medication isn’t working as well as it should. It’s ninety degrees outside and sunny, I should want to be out with my kids chasing the dogs instead, I see this invisible fence that won’t let me feel for them. What kind of monster am I? I know that I love them and I will protect them but why can’t I feel for them. They are there and it’s like I’m not even in the same room with them. I have pretty cute kids that cuddle and hug. I should be beaming at them. I know I am physically there but it’s like I can’t be part of their world. An outsider always staring in… Why?
My husband suprises me with roses and I should be over the moon. Instead, I go through the motions of hugging him and giving him a kiss. All the while, I am thinking ugh how long is this going to last. Why did he bother with the flowers? Will he be expecting sex tonight because I don’t think I can handle that. I mean who does that? Me, that’s who. I thank him and try to go to bed before him. I shouldn’t be like this but I am. Why?
I feel like an empty shell and as I explain this to my doctor I feel guilt because there in the room is my husband, holding my hand as I cry about it all. I think how can this man be here like this after I just said that I don’t want him near me. How can he stand to be married to someone like me? I’m robotic and cold. I don’t let my feelings show and when I talk about them I need him in the room with the doctor even if he sees what a monster I am. How can I explain this to anyone? How do I tell people that I love that I can’t love them the way that they might want me to?
Why is it that as parents, we feel like we are undeserving of ourselves? I know that when I wake up to my personal alarm, usually my one and two year olds crying, it’s time to start the day. First thing is to get them settled, usually changing diapers, getting bottles of milk, breakfast, etc. In between, I am usually rushing to drink my coffee knowing that solid breakfast doesn’t really happen until lunch which is made while they nap… I usually end up sharing my lunch when they wake up in between my eating it.
I know that I do a lot for my family often at my expense and I feel myself burning out, so why do I feel guilt when I take some time for me? Why do I feel awful when my ten minute shower turns into a 40 minute one since the kids are actually napping when I finally decided I had time to become human again? Why is there guilt when I took 20 minutes to read a crappy romance novel that is a luxury instead of rushing to do laundry? Maybe, it’s because time is a luxury or rather those moments to spare are. As parents, we put ourselves last and sometimes that makes us worse. I know I’m not the greatest of parents, I have snapped at my children when I overworked myself and yet I feel guilt when I try to recharge my battery.
The society, we live in now values efficiency and I think it’s great but it means that the aspects of life or rather the luxury of time for ourselves is obsoleted. Is that where the guilt comes from because I’m no longer being efficient?
Every night I go to bed and I think about how bad I messed up. Or rather, are the choices that I made the right one for my family and me. Everyday, I think what can I fudge up on today! No, I don’t think that but I do think that I am messing up royally. I hide my shame and push through thinking I am lucky to be alive so why don’t I feel like it?
It’s morbid, I know, to think the way that I do. I know that this isn’t the way to go about it but I can’t help what I am thinking. I know that I shouldn’t but regardless I still do it.
Every night, I go to bed thinking how could I do better or rather how can I be better for those that I love? Then, I think isn’t that messed up? Shouldn’t I want to be better for me? Where do I factor into this equation?
I no longer recognize me… I don’t know where I fit or where I should belong… Is that right or wrong? I know that I am important but how do I tell myself that? How do I change this?
It is sad, I know but I can only be honest with myself when I let go, after a glass of wine. I know this might not be healthy but it’s also not a regular thing. I know I can’t make a habit out of it. Routines are important… they are how I live my life…
There have been a lot of recent articles and postings all over social media on the topics of depression and anxiety. There’s a wealth of knowledge out there but regardless of how much knowledge there is, no one will actually know how it feels unless they have it and suffer from it.
Most people reading this are probably like here it goes again… Another person talking about something that they can control, it’s just a state of mind. I suffer from both anxiety and depression, for years but, in my culture, I was told that I was bored or that it didn’t exist. I have a very supportive husband that pushed me to seek professional help. To the world, I seem to have a my shiznit together, aka my life together. In reality, I am putting on my mask and creating my happy persona or what people want to see.
No one want to know that you got issues, especially mental health ones. Why? That just means you are crazy and should be in the loony bin. I struggle with it all the time. I’ve been on medication and I try to avoid taking it; knowing that I need it. Always hoping that I made it up that it doesn’t exist. Instead, I live in my head talking to myself avoiding people and social interactions even with my own children and spouse.
I try to make myself go out and have people come over my house when all I want to do crawl into a hole and sleep for an infinite amount of time. Or cry until I have no more tears to cry for no reason at all. Yet, I don’t do it. I make my life this routine service where a clock can be set and I try never to deviate from it. I get up in the morning, feed the babies, let them out of the cribs, play with them, shower, put them down for a nap, make lunch, feed them, etc.
Secretly, I want them to take a nap just so that I can go curl into myself and sleep to shut off the doubt and chaos in my mind. Instead, I pretend like everything is alright. I avoid going out with my service dog in training and I set my routines hoping no one will notice that I am damaged. I am broken… Being like this is not acceptable, especially for someone like me who has it all: multiple degrees, a career, a loving husband, children, a home, family…
No matter what I do and how I try to live my life obstacles always come my way. I know that this is true of everyone but when I say obstacles I really mean the ones from soaps like Days of Our Lives. I married an amazing man who had two children from his previous marriage. I call them my little blond brownies and I think of them as mine.
Their mother hates me! And I mean if looks could kill I would have died a millions times and that’s being conservative. My husband and I are constantly at court being accused of one thing or another . We were accused of child abuse recently and haven’t seen the kids in a month. Today, we were scheduled for a hearing and although everything was unfounded and I should feel happy, I don’t. I left the court room and got into the car and started crying for my babies.
They are my babies and even I didn’t give birth to them, they are mine! I think of their overall wellbeing and how things will affect them. Going to court made me realize that we can’t help who our parents are. We can only cross our fingers and hope we get parents that will put us before themselves.
Everyday, I pray that all my children have what they need but I especially hope my blondies get what the deserve, a decent mom. I will never tell them what I think of their biological mother, I rather cut off an arm. I hope they learn what parents are really meant to do, love their children.
The excitement of buying a new home, oh yeah! I can picture myself in it and all the crap that I own with some room to spare. Ha ha, that was what I thought! As much as I love my new home, it really re-established my hate for moving.
Yes, I was lazy and I hired movers, how could I not with my household! So, let me tell you about me. When we bought our current home, we were a family of six. My two biological children ages one and two and my step children ages eight and ten. Then, there was my husband the biggest baby along with four dogs! We are one of the busier families that is for sure.
When we bought our home we looked at how we went to a house that basically double in size and each kid could have their own room. Have you met my family!?! I think I over did it with the amount of crap the kids and I own! I have been at my home for a month and I’m still unpacking!!! Don’t talk to me about moving, next time I might pay the movers to unpack!
Sadly, I can’t leave things in boxes, my mother who I named little Napoleon comes over to ‘help’. I love her but I would like one day to just sleep in and not see a cardboard box. Who knows, maybe I might see the inside of my eyelids for a few hours. Ugh, moving… I did it and as much as I love my house, I’m going to think long and hard before I do it ever again!