sMOTHERed

I've been finding myself drawn to my bed a lot lately - not wanting to get up in the morning, napping during the day, spending my alone time watching TV or surfing the web from the comfort of my mattress.  This behavior can only mean one thing:  I've got emotions that want to come out and I don't want to deal with them. 

I absolutely HATE feeling my emotions and I'll do just about anything to stuff them down.  My preferred methods of stuffing are eating and curling up in my bed under a thick layer of blankets.  I've been doing the latter for a couple of weeks now.  

I started this blog as a way of helping myself get in touch with my emotions - a diary of sorts.  It's my accountability partner.  The plan is that when I feel the slightest twinge of anger or sadness or guilt or despair, I write about it.  But sometimes, I push those feelings so far down that I don't even recognize they're there.  That is, until they come bubbling up to the surface.

Yesterday, they came bubbling up in the form of anger.  

My daughter woke up with what appeared to be a sinus infection, so I planned to keep her home from school and take her to the doctor at 8:00 am.  In the 45-minutes before we left the house, I had to feed my children, help them get dressed, clean up the kitchen, get myself dressed and pile us all in the car.  There was no time for coffee or food for myself.  By the time we got home from the doctor's office and pharmacy, it was 10:00 am and I was pretty cranky.  I just wanted to sit down with my latte and have some breakfast.  But no; the kids were ready for a snack and my daughter wanted tea with honey and they couldn't find the TV remote and I had to put away some groceries and the dishwasher needed to be emptied.  The more I told them to wait the more impatient my kids got until I explained (read: yelled) that I wasn't doing anything else for them until I had a chance to have my coffee and egg sandwich.  I was angry the rest of the day.

I know you moms can relate to this.  

I've been doing the stay-at-home mom thing for the past 6 years.  It's a job I have truly enjoyed, but it has been one of the hardest jobs I have ever done in my entire life.  It comes with very little time off and even fewer vacations.  There are no sick days and I don't get paid.  Don't even get benefits.  The hours are long and I don't get enough time to myself.  Crazy, huh?  Who would take a job like that?  

But being a stay-at-home mom does have its benefits, the biggest of which is that I get to mold and shape and discover more about these two little beings of mine every day.  

But I've never really been one to focus much on the positive.  And right now I really want to quit this job.  I'm exhausted all the time, I've completely lost touch with who I am and what I enjoy.  When I do have alone time, I have no idea what to do with myself so I just fill the hours with errands, emails, and naps.  I have lost my sense of self.  I have lost my passion.  Every day just runs into the next.  More giving of myself until there is nothing left.  I feel like an empty shell of a person.  If I have to give one more thing to one more person I'm going to scream!

My friends will all tell you that I am a fabulous mom - creative and caring and patient.  And, yes, all of that is true.  But it's taking everything I have to be that way.  When do I get something for me?

I should be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  My kids are 6 and 3.  One is in Kindergarten and the other in preschool 2-3 mornings a week.  I actually have alone time during the day for the first time in six years.  It should start to feel easier, shouldn't it?  Aren't I supposed to start feeling more refreshed?  Instead, I feel smothered; like someone's holding a pillow over my head and it's hard to breathe.  

As any good mom would tell you, I would do anything for my children and raising them has been the best thing I have ever done.  They have helped me to grow in so many ways.  I feel incredible guilt for even uttering these feelings of despair.  

But that's what I am - desperate.  I am desperate to pry that pillow off of my face.  Desperate to take a breath.  Desperate to be free.  But I have no idea how to get there.  So, for now, I'm just going to focus on getting out of bed.