We all have our personal issues… demons that we wrangle in the deepest recesses of our minds.
Mine? … I question my ability as a mother each day. Friends tell me I’m doing great and I’m managing just fine. Truth?… I feel like I am floundering in a raging pool of perpetual hormones. I’m tired, strung out and in no mood to even have another human being anywhere near me.
I get irate when I hear “mummy” uttered more than three times. I lose my cool when I can’t be left alone for thirty minutes simply to think. I have no patience for stupidity or ignorance. I become distressed and tense if there is uncontrollable mess in my space. I am an impatient, neat freak introvert who has issues with noise and excessive energy.
I ask myself if I am a direct product of my childhood…but while my father was the noise control police and my mother was the neat freak, there was a sort of balance where my childhood was fun yet I was expected to have responsibilities. I would never say that I was screamed at or punished as much as I scream and punish my child.
I berate myself everyday when I hear about parents playing games, snuggling up and doing fun projects with their kids. I wish I could do that…but I just can’t bring myself to. I am tired and I need to have some ‘me’ time. I want to be left completely alone with my own thoughts. Being a parent is more like being an acrobat. I am juggling to keep our life afloat from a financial side. I am wearing the trousers and fighting the current with the rest of the crabs. I carry the stress of my day to day existence like a backpack full of rocks. I can’t for one second take it off and rest because there are neverending bills to pay, groceries to buy and incidentals to worry about.
How can I truly be a parent and fulfill my duties as a mother with the burden I carry day in and day out? I lay in bed tossing and turning praying for the sandman to blow sleep dust in my face….to no avail. I worry about the future…I can’t help it. I try to meditate, I try to pray and I sure as hell try to “let go and let God”. Some days I’m on top of the world and the rest of time I feel like the ground is crumbling and my fucking backpack is dragging me down into the pit of despair.
I don’t want to be the screaming stress- head mom who makes her child cower in a corner. I don’t want to lose my patience over a simple spelling error because I’m freaking out over the expensive school fee and questioning if I’m sending her to the right school. I don’t want to turn into a red faced raging bull if she spills a cup of juice or refuses to eat the food prepared because I know how much I spent at the supermarket, and I can’t afford anything to be wasted.
Ok fine… I admit it…I’m NOT Ok! I may appear strong like an ox and resilient like a mule on the outside…but I cry into my pillow under the cover of darkness and die a little each day. I have lost my youthful sparkle and I can feel myself withering. I’m scared….there I said it…I’m scared I made a mistake being a parent! Judge me if you will…but I’m scared I will ruin my child and her childhood because I’m spending more time trying to make ends meet. I’m trying hard to make sense of my own purpose in this universe while trying to to raise another human being in the process.
I don’t expect a lot and I don’t desire much. I simply ask Life to intercede and help me. Help me to remain calm while the boat is rocking, stay focused while I try to find a secure foothold in the storm and stay strong while the burdensome backpack tries to weigh me down.
I know that this too shall pass and sun will shine on me once again…but for now I say to anyone fighting their own personal demons: the first step to fixing a situation is admitting there is a problem…its Ok to admit when you’re NOT Ok.