Bad Days Dont Equal a Bad Life

I’ve learned with my youngest, that bad days come…often. Sometimes my patience wears thin, and I hate the mother I am to him. I havent slept much lately so lets just say my patience wears extra thin, so my bad days mixed with his bad days usually doesnt end up well for any of us. My oldest gets the short end of the stick most days. He usually ends up having to find something he can do independently because his brother is very emotional and refuses to play. But every night at bedtime I am reminded that these boys were given to me for a reason. God chose me to be their mama. So we get ready for bed at night and we pray for a better day tomorrow.

I still get overwhelmed. In fact, more times than not. I want people to offer to help, but at the same time why should two people have to suffer? The list of people I trust to watch my kids is slim. Being a special needs mom, I know what its like all day with an emotionally triggered child so why put people through that. No one would EVER want to help out again! But some days we are just SO EXHAUSTED, we wish for the offered help. We dont know how we can make it ANOTHER MINUTE!! But the crazy thing is, we do. TIME AFTER TIME! We always make it. Even with bags under our eyes and bruises on our bodies. We make it.

I suffer from clinical depression, PTSD, and generalized anxiety disorder. How can a mother be a mother to their kids when they are falling apart themselves? Ive been told that self care is essential in recovery. SELF CARE AS A MOTHER??!! WHAT?!?! I go days without a shower, I often forget to eat, my nails are not done, my hair is going grey, I really only get dressed if I absolutely HAVE TO LEAVE THE HOUSE! Self care to me lately has been just surviving the day. I have panic attacks so much now that its becoming a pretty usual part of my day. But our bodies are amazingly made, I still get up out of my bed in the morning, with the attitude that “I at least have to try”. Not try and be perfect, but just try. Because truth be told, Im hanging on by a thread, but Im still doing it. Im still their mom and Im the best mom I can be for them today, and tomorrow Im going to be the best mom I can for them. Even if all I do is hold my youngest against my chest while he has an episode, because in that moment he felt loved. And isnt that the main goal as a mother? To make them feel loved, to be their safe place?

My children will never have to wonder where to go for a hug. Because even when Im at my weakest parts of my life, Im the strongest when Im their mom. This is how we do it, mamas. These kids put our pieces back together again. They are proof that we are doing something right even when we feel we’ve failed. If you are reading this as a mother who is TIRED, remember bad days do NOT equal a bad life. Good days are to come! If you are reading this and you are a supporter to moms with mental illness, let me tell you this…OFFER YOUR HELP! Stop over and let them take a shower, or go grocery shopping alone. Or just offer to sit with them and let them vent. Because boy, do we have things to vent about! #mentalmama