Friday, May 6, 2011


The depression is settling in. It feels like it has a grip on my heart. My chest is heavy. I feel like I will never smile again. I want to cry at everything. I drove to get lunch this afternoon and I saw a big hole where they were working on the street. I wondered what it would be like to just drive into that deep hole.

I know I will be fine. I always am. The problem is that each and every time I go through this I feel like I leave a piece of me behind. I feel like I have to give up on something that means something to me just to be what others want from me. I will change what I believe to make sure I am doing it the right way.

Problem is, I feel like things that matter to me are being pushed aside.

I'm not saying I want to be the asshole he thinks I am, I am just saying that I want what I think to be important. I want to feel loved and cherished, but I am wondering if there is something broken in me that I can't feel it even if it is there.


When I started this blog, the anonymity was a draw. I felt like if only one person knew who I was it would be easier to say what I needed to. Then I brought some of you into that circle, and now it is difficult to say what I want.

Why? I don't really "know" you. I haven't looked you in the face. But I feel like I do. Today is a day that I really need to vent and express my feelings and figure out where they are coming from, but it is hard when people see this side of you and the other side that you publicly put out there. But I have to get this out . . . it may not make any sense, but I feel like if I don't it could get ugly really fast.

Today I would like to be done with life. I would like to just lay down and die. It's hard. Being a mother is hard. Being a mother who is constantly having to argue with her kids is even harder.

My two littlest children have no sense of respect for adults. They are the kids who hold it together for the most part in school. They do pretty well in being appropriate when they "have" to be. For me, they are awful. They do not do anything the first time they are asked. It could be something as simple as, "Hey bud, pull your pants up." They just refuse to do what they are told. At just under ten years old this is no longer cute to me. This is disrespectful and rude.

My personality is one of "fixing". If there is an issue, I want to fix it. I will do what it takes to fix it NOW. I want it to stop and I will be firm until it is better. The husband is one of those people who try to get them to fix it by making jokes and trying to get them to do it in a round about way. I don't think that is teaching them to be respectful, I believe that is teaching them to find a "out". It is allowing them to be disrespectful as long as they are funny about it. (This may not make any sense to you at all, but I need to try to explain)

So what happens? I am an asshole in their eyes and he is the funny, joking daddy. They tell me they hate me often. I spend a few days a week driving them to school with my son kicking my seat telling me he hates me. Why? Because I had the nerve to tell him to hurry, or to buckle his seat belt in a harsh voice because I had already asked 5 times, or God only knows what else I was firm about. My daughter never wants to leave daycare at night and yells at me telling me she hates me or I am stupid. It is tiring. It is hard. It is heartbreaking.

I understand parents are not always liked by their kids. I get that. I am okay with that. But it seems the more he gives in, the more I am hated. I am tired of being the bad guy. This is compounded by the fact that he rarely sees their behavior in public. I run most of our errands after picking them up from daycare. I am the one seeing their horrendous behavior in the store. I am the one seeing how they react to me when I tell then to stop spinning in the aisles of a store hitting people who are walking by. I am the one constantly being argued with and screamed at. I see how they are developing a nasty attitude and rotten behaviors in public. I am the one embarrassed by their antics in public, he is not. He can tickle them and change their mood when I ask them to get their pajamas on for the 16th time. He is the fun daddy and I am the mean mommy.

It is getting to me. Today I lost it and began telling him how I felt. It was not pretty. I was frustrated and angry. I sad mean things to him. He said mean things back. He told me that they basically treat me like an ass because I am one. He said I don't allow them to be children. That is probably true, but I am trying to be firm and constant to change the monsters that we have allowed them to become. It just stung hearing it.

Couple all that with the anxiety I am always feeling and the depression that comes with being tired and feeling like a failure and I would just rather walk away and die instead of being the bad, mean mother. I have been working later, the oldest has been REALLY doing poorly and the husband has not been helping with the chores as much as I would like. His natural response when the oldest is doing poorly is to sleep, so he has been taking the time while I am a work and the oldest is at school to sleep which makes me more angry because I would LOVE to spend all day in bed.

It has all put me over the edge and when I get pushed over the edge, my natural instinct is wishing I would die. For the last few weeks I have been struggling with even wanting to leave work and go home, so this just makes it worse. I will say that I have resisted the urge to self harm this go 'round. I have not wanted to pull hair or scratch my arms. I have not done any head banging, I have just done lots of crying and shutting down. I suppose that is something.

The husband truly is a good man. he is loving and caring. he doesn't want the kids to be angry at him. He wants to be the fun daddy. His position is that if he gets them to do what I want them to it is all good. My position is that they are feeling like they got something over on me. I suppose we are both right in one way or another. I just wish he could back me up in front of them. I wish he could help me get them to be more respectful and obedient. They are not cute little ones anymore, they are kids who really should know better. There is a balance there, I just can't find it. Apparently I suck.

The one fault I think he has in all of this is that he doesn't respond like I think he should (or would want to) when I tell him where I am emotionally. If I had a spouse tell me that they wished they were dead, I would hope that my response would not be to tell them they have created this themselves. I would like it if he would sympathize with me. I suppose he does not think I would ever act on it (which I don't think I would) but I need to feel loved and appreciated. I want him to make me feel differently. I want him to tell me that would be a mistake. I don't want to be yelled at during this time, I want to be made to feel like I am essential to this family. I want him to make the feeling of wanting to die go away. Why is that so hard to understand?

Tomorrow will be better. It always is. Heck, perhaps I will feel differently in an hour. I will succeed at stuffing it down and dealing with it internally. Things will go right back to where they are and I will just be the bad person, I am used to that. But right now, it hurts and I just want the pain to go away. I want the thoughts of "If they hate me they would be better off without me" to be gone forever.

I don't really want to hear, "If they hate you, perhaps it's your fault."