I had to go back and read my post from yesterday because, as the day continues to replay in my head, I had to see again how it started. Semi- under control and relatively ordinary...which is not the way it played out as the day went on. I cringe a little at the thought of posting this, but for an accurate representation of us as a family and of my own struggles, I think it's almost best to be a little transparent. At least, I hope so. And that I'm not judged too harshly.
Somewhere between the spills and the yells and the back-talking and the "Mom. Mama. My Mom. Maaamaaa. Mom. Mommy. Mom. Mama. My Mom. Mommy," something in me broke. I lost my grip on the day and it went in a downward spiral, which ended with me in the grocery store parking lot at 7:46pm, crying so hard that I couldn't get out of the car, and when I finally did, the look of pity I got from the woman behind the deli counter told me that I probably should not have. I felt pathetic.
So, I went back through the day in my mind today. Where did it go wrong? Where did I start to feel sorry for myself because, truly, that is where I was. If the deli woman was pitying me, I assure you I was pitying myself more. (Which, to be clear, I know to be silly. Worse, it's stupid. Shameful. And pretty out of character.)
I like to think that I am pretty thankful. If I don't portray it here on my blog, let me assure you that rarely a day passes when I don't thank God for this life that I have. I know there are people who would do anything to have this life; I was one of them. So, as I describe what turned into a horrible and self-destructive day, understand that it was just that. It was a day. It went wrong.
It was something that happened over lunch that started it, but I honestly could not tell you what exactly. Maybe it was the 23rd time that I had to ask someone to eat, or the fighting over toys, or the scraps of food that filled the milk glasses and were scattered on the floor, but I felt my chest starting to get tight. The kids were put down almost as soon as lunch was over with very little to-do, but it was too late. I was on a roll, internally, anyway. I took a very long and very hot shower, hoping to wash my mood away. Instead, my grievances from months past started running through my head. I thought about all of the work I had put into changing my own life for the good of our family and how unappreciated I felt. I thought about all of the times I could have done something fun with friends and had instead chosen to stay home because it was just easier. I thought about the seven pounds I am retaining from Hatch's pregnancy and the eight more from Leo's. I thought about how thankless my mom/wife job is...and I got mad. Horribly mad and hurt and...(here comes more cringing) lonely. It's lonely. And there is the root of it. Because, as little alone time as I ever get (the grocery store is really it), I don't really have much "peer" interaction. Even yesterday, when all I wanted to do was to pick up the phone and talk to someone who understood, I just couldn't. 1.) I didn't want to admit how selfish I was feeling and I didn't want to say out loud that things that day weren't great and 2.) I didn't even know who to call. The truth is, we all have our own struggles; mine are not special or brand new. They are, however, still difficult to admit. Even now, I don't like reliving yesterday, though I have played it in my mind again and again.
My mood is starting to improve and I do understand how ridiculous it all is; justified, maybe, but still ridiculous. What I have here is good. I am appreciated. Maybe not verbally and definitely not always, but I know if I were to leave (no, I didn't consider that...it wasn't THAT bad), the boys wouldn't know what to do with themselves. The crying shamelessly did help to get some of the hurt out, but did leave me with a horrible headache today. Maybe it's what I deserve. I do think that we are all perfectly imperfect, but that doesn't include me yesterday. Yesterday, I was flawed all over. Not beautifully flawed, just flawed/flawed. Sometimes, the truth hurts, even when you're just telling it to yourself (and even more when you're admitting it publicly on a blog.) Oh, well. Life goes on. (More about that later.)
oh sister! you have just described too many of my days. i feel like a failure at least 4 days per week and it helps to know that i am not alone.
ReplyDeleteMy lovely cousin, I have these days with just one little guy so I don't know how you handle three. I tend to feel better after I vent it all out, verbally or in writing. Some days I feel like supermom and others I'm not sure I'm fit to change his diapers. Sending lots of hugs your way :)
ReplyDelete~Jen
I am SO glad you posted this! I appreciate your transparency more than you know. Days like the one you describe leave me feeling dark, selfish, ungrateful...ugh. Need I say more? And you're right - at the root of all of those feelings is pure loneliness. I think it must be a woman's worst enemy. I know it is Satan attacking us, trying to make us feel alone, unwanted, and insignificant. I'm always so glad when light shines again, and I can see beyond all of those lies and remember exactly what you wrote: what you have is good and that you are appreciated. Thanks for helping me see I'm not the only one with days like those!
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