Sometimes I lie in my bed at four in the morning and I am just staring at the ceiling and my tummy is filled with dread. My thoughts are filled with fear and I wonder how I am going to get through another day as a parent.
I don’t feel confident at all and I am always questioning everything. Sometimes, I get annoyed with my husband, how he could allow me to be a parent when I am totally useless. I am always tired and things seem to take a long time to master. I seem to make the same mistakes over and over again.
I am now sitting in my son’s assembly hall waiting and feeling yet again that familiar feeling of being a true outcast or black sheep. This feeling is not new to me, it comes frequently where I feel like I am an outsider looking through the glass where I just can’t reach through. It feels so close yet so far away.
There are other times when I get jealous of my husband, he can just get things and communicate really well. I am sitting back permanently struggling and my tummy is in knots with anxiety. He does try to understand my neurosis bless him but he is the complete opposite of me. I watch on as he mingles and just gets these social rules that I seem to get muddled and fail all the time. I just get things, or I am just anxious state of a person. That is one good thing about summer holidays even though I am dealing with the change but not having to think. I over analysis I know but at least it gives me a break where I don’t have to feel completely sh*t again. I know I will never be one of them, good parents that I so desperately want to be, I mess up it is a natural talent of mine. I just get so fed up with it all and after takes its time. It hurts deep and it so damn frustrating. It is a minefield and just getting through the day is a challenge in its self. The thoughts that trigger me are so strong, they keep me awake and let me everytime my downfalls. I just need to a breather, time away and not to think that would be totally blissful.
I remember when I was pregnant dreaming of being this type of parent that would swim into motherhood like flies to poo. Sadly, it hasn’t happened, to delusion, I am nothing that I expected. I thought I would be good at communicating because I was living this role as a mother that it would all somehow come to place. That I would have this maternal instinct. The only thing that I am good at it appears to be is hanging up the washing and creating random fun stories for my boy. It is not much, I am never good at small talk but I take it now and I got to learn to accept the situation for what it is.
Cheers for reading my ramblings X