The Bipolar Blogging Mom

Dear self,

You are in the thickest part of self actualization right now. You had finally figured out what it meant to be your edgy sassy self along with the sarcastic love abundance of being in the hood of motherhood too. You rocked the “mom life” with your one son and felt the addition of another kiddo would not require you completely new soul searching quests filled with tribulation. Yes, it would be a reset to sleepless nights, difficult healing, but you would surely know yourself and be comfortable as a mom. Well, you’re becoming aware that that isn’t true. You thought you’d be more patient, wise, and it would come easy. You assumed you’d have a nack at meeting moms and maybe even have fun baby dates. The crying wouldn’t get to you, the public breast feeding would be a breeze. But all of that wasn’t true for you this time. You’ve been thrusted into a perpetual loop of pleasing others with little or no energy/time to yourself. Once the baby is down, you’re back to entertaining the other child or prepping for the next activity. Your husband is patient but he complains of a messy home or chores you turn your head to everyday just so you can zone out and maybe, just maybe, the ringing of the screams and whining will settle so you can think straight. Be yourself again? Who is she? You don’t enjoy things you used to. Working out hurts every fiber of your body. Your baby hates being in his pack and you can’t go out for walks. You try to call support systems but your duty calls constantly interrupts those cries for help. The aptitude to have cold meals and coffee aren’t a thing. Meals and coffee don’t even happen most days, however, people tell you that and some sleep will solve it all. You can’t bare to get out the door anymore to pass your children off because the preparation is too much to bare. So you sit and think and sometimes say regrettable things to your children, the dog, the house, the chirping birds outside…anyone who will share in your misery. You get lost in the ideas of a life where you didn’t have these responsibilities. The ones where you live in a remodeled van and travel with no care and no shun to odd jobs and tasks to maintain your carefree life. Where did I go wrong? I wanted everything I have now but I hate it. People desperately yearn for the things I have, however, I dream of throwing it all away or at least disappearing so I don’t have to hear the musical toys and the fussing that builds up into fierce and angry crying. Your friends don’t recognize you. You become unbearable to be around. People joke that you’re griping and feeling sorry for yourself. They’re not wrong. You’ve become a shell of your happy joyful self. You start thinking you have this routine that works then something throws it all off and your back to square one. So dear self, know that things are different. They weren’t going to be an extension of your built identity as a mom but instead you’re going to have to make a new version of yourself. A remodeling if you will. You’ll always have the original foundation but maybe a new coat of paint might be what inspires a new side of you. I’m hoping that’s true for me. Because right now I feel I am drowning in the outdated expectation of my old self.

Sincerely,

A mourning mama