Am I still here?
Am I still here? After devoting another day to other humans’ cries, needs, and wants while neglecting my own. Am I still here? The place where my mind hurts from overthinking and my body aches from cleaning up others’ disasters. Am I still here? I feel like I’m breaking and there’s not enough of me to go around…not even for myself.
At my worst, motherhood feels like that reoccurring nightmare where I am being chased by someone, but I’m running away in slow motion. That gut wrenching feeling of “they’re going to catch me, I’m not going fast enough” is the equivalent to “I won’t be able to get it all done today.” Every day is meant for catching up to the chores of yesterday, while those chores are adding up to the chores that I won’t be able to complete today…My mind is filled with the worries of not completing these tasks, while holding the position of referee and protector to my Liliana and Giselle. Some of the daily distractions are making sure that Liliana doesn’t walk into ant piles (she’s allergic and it happens while other distractions are at play), keeping Liliana from falling off high places (this one too…happens frequently despite my efforts), making sure that Giselle doesn’t sneak markers from our craft shelf into their room, because Liliana WILL take it and write yet again on the wall.
I frequently ask myself, am I really meant for this lifestyle?
Am I really meant for this role? Maybe it’s because I haven’t had the time to read other mom blogs, but I don’t know how other mom’s feel mentally. I know that other moms don’t have it all together, but I get this feeling like they don’t wallow in loathe over this role as a mother. Is it wrong of me to say, I HATE this job? But I LOVE my children. I don’t know if you’re going to criticize me for how I feel, but if you feel this way too…well sister, we’re going to make it!
After having two meltdowns this week, I can honestly say that talking to you is a relief. I’m thinking that if I look outside of myself with God’s eyes, I would be able to see that I am not a bad mother. If I’m emotionally and physically hurting this bad, then I am clearly working hard at this role. It’s my own pressures that I am fighting against…dun, dun, dun, clarity has been found! I can now hear my husband in the background, singing to me, “Every little thing is gonna be alright.” Once again, I realize that the only reason I hurt this bad is because I’m hurting myself. I keep telling negative Jenessy that she needs to stop doing this to herself, but I don’t know what it’s going to take for her to quit poking at her self-inflicted wounds. Hmmm…maybe more torture (insert evil laugh here). I think I will create a mantra for this overwhelmed feeling. If you’re following this mental dialogue of mine, repeat with me: At my best, motherhood is me riding my bicycle as a child. Motherhood is me riding my bicycle as a child…