Today, I have realized so many things.
I have realized that being a stay-at-home mother is but one of the hardest jobs in the planet. You work endless hours of that very same thing you did yesterday and the days before that and so on. The routine, the boredom, and that feeling of being a ‘regular’ person is suffocating at times. You cry, complain, complain even more, and then cry again. Then you ask yourself if there’s anything, something, left for you out there.
Today, I have realized how being isolated, lonely, and at some point, rejected feels like. Yes, you have friends alright. A handful of them, a bunch, a couple, but none of them really qualifies as being able to understand what you’re going through. The feeling of loneliness even when you’re surrounded by people who care. The feeling of being rejected by that very same community you used to belong. The feeling of being isolated in a place where you used to be just as everybody else. The feeling of being so different and so far. It is slowly sinking in.
It used to be just a parenting article you’ve read online, but now, it’s you. It’s all about you. “Now I know what that writer means by…”, you tell yourself. You lay quitely still, thinking, or not having anything to think at all.
You think about depression, anger, sadness and google your way to find something that could console the weary you. But nothing. So on with your life.
Suddenly, someone hugs you and tells you endless I love you’s. Then you hear someone crying from the room. A glass that has just been broken. Someone shouting they need you to see them play a new piano piece. Or someone screeming in need of a diaper change. There are little people who needs you and looks up to you as if you were their world. This is you now. How hard could it get?
You tell your partner everything you feel and assures you that non of these are permanent. Hugs you and you melt into his arms where you feel the safest. None of these are permanent, you repeat. So there. All these are tempory. There are far more greater things to look forward to and look back.
Hold on tight, momma. You’re doing perfectly fine. 🙂
-mother of two (4 months old, 6 years old) and a husband as of writing
Random And Raw 