Bad For Real or Bad For Me

I go to my psychology appointment today and burst into tears. I tell her all of the shit that’s been going on in my life the past two weeks and ask her if it’s because of medication? Is it because of my new diagnosis? “I feel like it’s all just too much.” And she tells me I’m normal, this reaction is normal, that all the new responsibilities of my job has stretched me to thin and she tells me that anyone would feel this way with all I have on my plate right now. I tell her I don’t want to complain because I’m afraid I’ll be accused of being drama queen. She then tells me just because an ungrateful child bully calls me names doesn’t make it true.

My question today is this…

Once we’ve been “diagnosed”, how do we now if a bad day is a bad day “for real”? or is it just a bad day because of our present mental “condition”? I admit this is a great part of my stress and my anxiety. Since the week that two of my children did what they did, said what they said, I have become so totally insecure that I don’t trust even trust my own thoughts or feelings.

Somewhere in my mind, I try to logically tell myself that I need not let 2 of my children, regardless their age, scare me or bully me into such a place that I become a super stressed out used to believe I could do anything I wanted to do person into an introvert, a loner, a I am weak I am stupid I am a failure person.

One told me he hoped I live and die a lonely person. Funny thing is, I was never lonely, until now. The depressed state this situation has put me into I quit going places, quit talking to people, my husband says I have quit living. Part of me knows that I’m letting someone else’s miserable feelings in their head dictate me and turn my life miserable. But the other part I think has shut down, has stopped believing in anything, because if my own children could hurt me so badly without giving it a second thought, then I must not be worthy of a good life.

I’m so angry. I fought so hard my entire life to overcome so much, including young single mother stereotypes, genetic mental crap, poverty, abuse to name a few. And none of it kept me down, but some mean words from my two oldest sons…crushed me. Turned me into this. I no longer have the strength to fight the good fight. I look at my two younger sons and know I need to be here for them, I need to be strong for them.

But I can’t. Then I get mad as hell that I allowed the two I gave everything up for 30 years ago, to steal my life from me, and to steal their younger brothers mother from them. Then I think, “I know I’m supposed to be strong enough to overcome this, and not to let other people f— with my head.” Yet here I am, a God Damn Fucked Up Mess. My 22 year old thank God has a terrific girlfriend to help keep him grounded after the divorce and dad in jail nightmares. He’s not home anymore so he doesn’t have to deal with a sobbing mother daily. My 17 year old ended up with divorced parents, an alcoholic dad, two big brothers forgetting about him, (thankfully his third & favorite big brother still close and in touch) and now his mom does nothing but go to work or stay home and cry.

Now I realize how damn selfish those oldest two are. Stealing so much from all of us, living their lives like they’ve never done a cruel thing to anyone. Pisses me off. In fact, one sent me a text recently, no words, just enough to leave me hanging wondering WTF does that mean? It’s the third time in a year he has dangled the carrot of hope. The two times before I went for it and he yanked it away as I reached out. I didn’t reach out this time, I’m tired of being played with. But it still hurts like hell and still sparks a little hope in my heart.

So here I am, still asking the question, how do I know if this shit is because of me? Or I’m because of this shit? Do any of us ever know? It all goes back to the old adage. “What came first, the chicken or the egg?” Be strong not only because you need to, be strong because you want to. Don’t let bullies, family or otherwise, steal the happiness you deserve. The happiness you have worked so hard for, it’s yours to enjoy. Let them go, put them and all the hurt they’ve caused to the back of your mind, don’t let it define you. If you let it, it will take you down a road that is so hard to get off of.

Do this for yourself, because you deserve it.

Published by Dazedmother

I'm a middle aged working woman. I have raised four boys of which my baby is 17. Motherhood began at age 17 for me. For 30 years every choice I've made was as a mother. This past year, two of my sons have decided life is better without me. I'm a mom, a grandma, a wife that was divorced and now remarried. Here I am, still trying to figure out this thing called life.

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