Tonight I sat in my car, parked outside my condo, listening to music for 45 minutes and no one noticed. My eyes glazed over, fixated on the world outside that I no longer wanted to be a part of.
This past week has been hell. My toddler was sick, my marriage is unraveling, and my newborn has been well, a newborn. I'm roughly three weeks postpartum and I'm a wreck. Violent temper tantrums, attempting to learn a whole new human being, and watching whatever connection I had had left with my husband slip away... somehow, somewhere I lost my will. My will to live, to love, to try...
I, like most of the human race, have always had my moments of ups and downs. And I'm sure people will just say that this is all about the hormones but I have reached my limit. I'm losing temper with my son instead of helping him through his tantrums. I'm feeling invisible with my husband, incredibly lonely even when he is in the same room. I'm hurt that most people aren't reaching out to say hi and at the same time annoyed with the ones that are. When I'm alone with my daughter the time is gone in an instant and at a snail's pace when husband gets home. We sit, staring at our phones line mindless idiots with nothing to say to each other but cheap small talk. I let my guard down and spill just an ounce of what I'm dealing with and I'm left feeling empty and even more alone.
Don't get me wrong, I love my husband. There are some things that he is the absolute best at and I could not have asked for a better father for my children. However, we are just like any married couple and after years together there is a lot of scar tissue. Daily reminders of old wounds that occasionally hurt and can still be excruciating in the right situations.
I find myself wondering more often than not, why am I here? Would anyone really, honestly care if I am gone? No, I am not suicidal - though I have struggled with depression all my life and yes, there have been times that I have contemplated it. But I love my children and I would never do that to them. I'm juat curious to what would happen, how would people go about their lives...if the last 45 minutes have anything to say about it then the answer is they wouldn't even notice. The world would keep spinning, my husband would keep snoring, and my kids would be blissfully unaware that anything is wrong.
People talk about the joys of motherhood and social media allows us all the build the perfect life that everyone is jealous of. We all share our happy moments and perfect pictures of everyone smiling - neverind it took ten minutes and two meltdowns to get! And when we do complain? Oh, half the time it's about how perfect we moms have to be because our husbands don't help with the kids or the house. We bitch that our husbands don't lift a finger while praising ourselves as self proclaimed super heros...super mom's. But what we are really doing is setting ourselves and other women up for failure. Let's start being honest with how shitty it can be to be a mother. When your kid has a meltdown in public...what are people thinking or even saying out loud? "Why isn't the mother (fill in judgemental comment)" Half the time dads are praised just for being in the picture! My husband is so hands on when it comes to our kids, it's really great. I'm so appreciative of how much he does for me and our children...but...do you know how many times I've heard "he is such a great dad"? More times than I can count. Now, want to know how many times I've been told that I'm such a good mom? I can count on one hand and still have fingers available to hold a coffee...or wine, whatever.
It's pounded into our silly sleep deprived brains that being a mom means we have to do it all. Mom groups, movies and the perfect social media life all need to just STFU already. Just because you can, doesn't mean you should. And just because you have help, whether that's a nanny or your husband, doesn't mean you should feel like shit. Mom guilt is strong in the world and I'm too tired to give a shit anymore.
✌️✌️
