Crazy Ramblings

I wrote this on Friday (2nd) but decided against posting it as I was ashamed. But now I’m coming out the other side of a bad patch I’ve decided that I should share it. I owe it to all other mothers suffering to be brutally honest. You are not alone, I’m right there with you.

I’m sick of being crazy, I’ve had enough of it. It’s embarrassing, that I can’t pull myself together and act like a normal human being. I’m letting myself down. I’m letting my husband down. I’m letting Moo down.

All I ever wanted to be was a mother, I had no career aspirations. Motherhood was my ultimate dream, with a loving husband and a warm, cosy home, full of children. And now it’s happening, I hate it.

I don’t want to be a mum. It’s awful. Every day I muddle through, I’m stressed, angry, shouting, gritting my teeth, exactly the sort of mother I didn’t want to be. I don’t want to look back in 20 years and not have enjoyed any of it. I don’t want Moo to be resentful, with memories of me in a rage, or sobbing. How do others find this so easy? I assumed I’d be a natural. I hate myself for finding it this hard.

When I’m feeling this crazy, I go back to wishing I hadn’t had Moo at all. Maybe I could have just enjoyed my nieces and nephews. And then I see her little face and I’m filled with the most overwhelming guilt. How could a mother think that about her beautiful baby girl? I should feel blessed that I was given a child at all, and that she’s healthy. I should be grateful. The self loathing gets worse.

How long can a person live on anti depressants? Do I have a permanent chemical imbalance? Am I just a weak person? Right now I’ll take whatever medication might make me feel better.


Posted on August 6, 2013, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. There’s a way saying, “Shit happens for a reason” That reason is beyond our control. Hold on for the ride, you’ll make it out alive. And remember what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.

  2. reading it back, it sounded like a song.

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