In The Constricted Pit of Despair

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I'm going to be okay. The hard times make me see that I can survive it. I am a mom on my own with barely any support, with major PTSD. I beat up on myself the minute I am not perfect. I really hate myself and can barely function when the chips fall. It happened today, when things seemed well, and then of course the chaos had to creep in... I almost gave up. Made myself get out and walk, while the pain inside was killing. Grabbed daughter and put her in her carriage to which she screeched., so put her in her push car and ran. She tried to play and put her feet on the sidewalk, and I hissed "put your feet in." I felt embarrassed of myself, acting like the mother I always prided myself on not being. Pride shot, spirit defeated. I went home.

Shouted a bit, but held it in till I had to get out and breathe. I thought about it a lot, till I burst and cried. Why me? Why is it so hard? I feel like if I am not perfect I do not have an identity. I can't be bad. If I am, it has to go all the way, and I see red and act monstrous. I sobbed out of control, and said out loud all the pain I was having. How triggered I got because my daughter wouldn't sleep, and I feel awful for eating up a storm to distract myself, and now there was nothing else to eat and I was forced to see the reality. And it felt awful.

I guess when we can accept the ugly side of us, we can feel less scared of it. Maybe I have to go through this now, to know I can do it. Maybe it'll help me understand others.

I feel my extreme feelings are harming my daughter, and although my husband says I need to take care of my needs in order to see her, I feel selfish. I feel like it's the worst thing I can do to ignore my child, because of how I was ignored. I don't let myself feel my own pain of not having peace. I tell myself I must persevere, and if I don't do everything for her I am awful. And I don't know what I'm worth if I do any thing less than perfect. It's a tight spot that I'm in and I can't move anywhere but struggle. See the pain and wallow in it. I feel all the isolation and self-pity at having no family crash down on me. I cry and scream and can't function.

Maybe the bad times make way for the good. I hope. I miss my loving and self-assured self. These times remind me that I am lost inside. I need to be saved more than anything. I need love in my life. Nothing else helps, no advice on how to get happiness, no instructions of how to change. This is me, now, and I need to embrace that and not push it away.

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