Okay. It’s going to be a different post for me today. I picked this post up from Claire Traynor’s post on her blog and it just had to be shared. This is all of her work and I have express permission from the author to post this on my blog here. This is a post that I think many, many mothers can relate to.
I stand in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection.
"What a fucking mess you are"
is the only thought that runs through my head. Why? I'll tell you why, because I'm struggling, I'm struggling at this thing called life. Everyone else seems to have it nailed and I'm just here, barely surviving. I drink too much, I cry too much, and i break down behind closed doors more than I will ever be able to confess. Life just gets to me, I'm weak I guess. Everyone else stiffens up their upper lip and just deals. Nobody else seems to be struggling how I am, just trying to make it through a day.
"Miiiiineeee...." "Nooooo mine!!!" "Ouuuuchhhhhh, mommmmny he hit me."
Are the cries I can hear in the background, from behind the bathroom door. Normal sounds, right? That's what happens when you have kids, right? I know all that. I really do. On days like this it's all I think of.
"They are just kids, let them play, it's okay, don't have an R moment"
R moments, are what I call my ’lose your shit moments’ R is my father. These days don't happen often, sometimes I go weeks without them. When they happen though? I'm scared. Scared, because I'm so close. I'm so close to losing control, I'm close to reverting back to the only coping mechanisms I've ever known.
So here I am, staring at myself in the mirror locked in a small bathroom, surrounded by little reminders of the three little amazing humans I live with, I've locked myself away from.
"What the hell is wrong with me?"
Is the first thought into my head, as I look at the reflection that looks back at me.
"Why can't I just be strong, and deal with life like everyone else does?"
I don't have the answers to any of they questions. I have no idea why I can't seem to get a grip on it all and just be okay. I've spent god knows how long getting by. Bad day? It's okay, I'll get by. Bad week? Yeah, I got this. Fresh start Monday. I don't understand why recently the more I try to get by, the less possible it seems. Like I'm hanging on a cliff edge and every negative thing that happens feels like some of the rocks, im gripping onto are crumbling beneath my grasp.
"You're losing control."
That's what I tell myself, whilst I'm staring at the person I see in the mirror with two over caffineated but weary blue eyes staring back at me. I don't even recognize me anymore, when did I become so god damn emo, and negative. I lay on my bathroom floor, and cried for what seemed like hours. I'm not sure how long I lay there. I lay until my daughter came to the door and asked for a cuddle. I swear, that little girl reads emotions like crazy. It's not just the noisy kids, and messy mother I see staring back at me in the mirror that's the problem. It's everything, or at least that's how it feels.
It's the breakdown of my relationship with my sister, I miss her, but I won't ever tell her that. I miss her advice, especially on weeks like this. It's having H, ask me for the hundredth time when he's going to see A (my niece) and I don't know what to tell him, I don't know what to say to him. It's the bug I can't get rid of that seems to be draining me of any ounce of energy I have. It's the clutter everywhere I turn and toys, and boxes, and more toys, and delightful artwork my kids have christened my walls with. It's the dishes piled up in the sink that just never go down, and the laundry, and the ironing.
It's the co-parenting with a man. Who wants to work against me at every turn no matter what I do. Or how amicable I try and be. It's the fact my children seem to never want to sleep, or eat or go potty where they should. It's the 4:30pm phone call from the kids school principal talking to me like a child, whilst I politely bite my tongue, giving verbal nods at the appropriate times like a grown adult when what I really want to tell her is
"Give me a break! I'm bloody trying here!"
It's the constant guilt that plays on repeat in my head, when I tuck my babies in at night. Did I notice enough today? Did they smile enough today? Was I patient enough today? Did they get enough praise from me today? Did I tell them I love them enough? Have they had enough kisses? Did we play enough? The answer is always no.
I look at each of my kids and notice how much they are changing and it scares me, it scares me, as the realization kicks in, that I'm responsible for the most important years of their life.
"... You're a mess, and can't even get a grip of your own life, nevermind shape the lives of, these three, tiny, innocent human beings."
Staring at myself in the mirror, I run through the week I've had. It's been testing that's for sure. I've never been unsure about my parenting and the job I'm doing, not like I am today. These are new feelings, feelings that have me thinking, maybe I'm not coping as well as I like to pretend I am. Is that what I'm doing? Pretending? I don't even know anymore. Am I lying to myself? Am I in denial? Has this week been my wake up? Am I seeing myself for the first Time? Like properly seeing myself?
The truth is I'm not sure, all I know is that I feel so alone most days. I feel like unless I'm ready to get drunk as hell, and party then nobody is really interested. Even if they were? How do I admit to being down? How do I tell people I'm not coping as well as I say I am? How do I tell people who are expecting me to crumble, that I'm crumbling? I've worked so hard to never need anyone, for the simple fact that this is my life. I don't expect anyone else to be responsible for me and the choices I made in life, but sometimes I just need someone to tell me in i’m doing okay and ask if I need anything, simple things.
I can’t have that though if I never tell anyone I’m struggling. I make things more difficult for myself than they have to be. Right there in the middle of my breakdown I realized. Its okay not to be okay, everybody struggles sometimes. Nobody is really honest enough about the stuff they struggle with. Comparing yourself to other mothers, who post about the wonderful motherly things they do makes no sense. Every mom regardless of being a single parent or not, comes across struggles and it doesn’t make you weak admitting when you need some help or an extra hour to yourself.
So here it is my first step to admitting I don’t have all my shit together, and that’s okay.