Guest post by Jean at Working Momma 24 / 7
As I close my eyes at night; all the fears, anxiety, and pain, feed themselves into an emotional hurricane. Sleep then becomes no more and hurt and anger take over.
I hate myself for who I am sometimes. This person who freaks out over stupid things. This person who can’t even handle the most simplest of situations with out my heart racing and the knots in my stomach twisting so hard I can’t breath much less think. I don’t know why I get this way.
Why is it so hard to ask the girls at the door how much they want for mowing the lawn? C standing there looking at me like I’m crazy. “Just go ask them!” he yells, It’s not that hard! Easy for him to say. I hate that something so simple is yet so overpowering and intimidating.
What hurts most is when my kids have to see their mom so frightened with something that is really hard to explain. The times when I want to hide behind them to feel protected instead of being the protector. What kind of mother does that make me? A mother who is scared that everyone is the boogey man out trying to get her. How does this effect the kids? Will they think everyone is the boogey man out to get them to?
I try so hard to keep the anxiety and hurt bottled up tight like a springy snake in a peanut can, but it still always seems to pop out when least expected. I have my perfectly fine days and then the not so fine days. I want so badly to defeat this beast for me and for the kids. I always believe that I can fight the good fight on my own. That I don’t need meds to qualm this. I tell myself if I got through post pardum depression after almost 4 years surely I can fight this to on my own. I think I have to come to terms with myself that I do not have to fight this fight alone. That’s probably going to be the most difficult battle of all, is coming to those terms.
Guest post by Jean at Working Momma 24 / 7
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