Lately I’ve been feeling like I could be coping better, but I don’t really know how to cope any better than I already am, so I bought myself a book — Desperate: Hope For The Mom Who Needs To Breathe.
People kept talking about it so I figured it was worth a shot. I haven’t finished the whole thing yet, but so far I think it’s just what I needed.
Because I am a person of action, I immediately put some of the ideas into practice — adapting them to my life and personality, and to my kid’s personalities. This book affirmed what I already know to be true: being a mom of small kids is brutal and it eventually gets better, but in the meantime it’s up to ME to keep MY shit together. So whatever I need to do to make that happen … I just need to do it.
I’ve been proactively taking charge of my life and trying to make our situation work for us, and it’s helping a lot. Husband and I are struggling to find our footing as we adjust to having a family of five. I’ll have weeks when I feel like I can totally handle my three kids, and weeks when I am worn so thin I feel like I can’t possibly deal with being a mom for one more minute. An important piece of the puzzle for me is camaraderie and support from women in my life. I love my husband, but expecting him to be my every source of emotional support is unfair. He’s my best friend, but he’s not my girlfriend — and we like it that way.
This week I was sinking into an emotional pit of despair where I felt like no one understands me or what I’m dealing with and all of this is just TOO HARD, OMG. It was a full-on pity party that I couldn’t put an end to. So in a desperate attempt to feel understood, I texted my girlfriend a long tirade of desolate thoughts.
And this is why I need my girlfriends, each one. I’m paraphrasing here, but basically she acknowledged that what I’m (we’re) doing is hard. She also told that I needed to pull myself out of my hole and buck up, because it’s warrior time. It won’t always be like this, but right now it is, so ARMOR UP. And I thought, yes. No one will ever fully understand what my days are like, and that is okay. I don’t think what I need most is to be completely understood.
What I actually need most, as it turns out, is for someone to help me put my armor back on when it’s falling off.