Me at my Worst

This is a hard post to write because it’s a reflection of me at one of my worst moments.  I felt that I had to get this out of my system before I can write anything else that further perpetuates this image that I try to build online and offline – that I’ve got it all together, that I am a chillax mama, that I know what I’m doing.  Because I don’t.  And it’s scares me when I come to these moments of realization and see that at the end of my tether, when I’m frustrated, tired, cranky, helpless, illogical and irrational, it’s God who really holds me together and holds me down.  In that moment between sanity and insanity, it’s His grace which ties my arms around my baby and hug him close, instead of that crazy moment, everything in you just wants to hit, fling, throw something across the room and you don’t actually realize or think of what’s in your arms.  I admit I’ve had many moments like that since becoming a mother.  It just shows me again and again how much I don’t have it altogether, how self-centred, unloving and unkind I really am and I need God so much just to get past the day.  I let fly hurtful words and crazy tempers, nevermind that the subject of my ire is a 9-month-old baby and because he doesn’t understand, somehow that makes me feel worse.  It’s as if because he’s a baby, I don’t have to curate the side which I show to him (unlike to the world and on this blog).  All the more, it highlights how ugly his Mama is.  Yet he cries and clings to me and seeks my love because I’m all he’s got.  That really kills me inside.  

By writing this, I’m not seeking for affirmation or even encouragement, but I really want to get out there and debunk the myth of the Mother-who-‘s-got-it-all-covered, because none of us know what we are doing all the time.  But I do want to reach out to you, the mamas soldiering on who are on the brink of such mental breakdown again and again, night after night and tell you, it’s okay, it’s normal, you’re not going any more crazy than I am.  If anything, you’ll have me for company for checking into Woodbridge.  

But I’m not going to find excuses for my bad attitudes and hurtful actions.  It’s NOT okay to hit out (physically or emotionally) at the little ones given to us to nurture and train.  Let’s proactively find our stressors and deal with them before hitting breaking point.  I know the next time Z cries repeatedly after feeding, refusing to sleep in the night, I’m just gonna stuff him the bottle – no need to stress about supply and demand.  Meanwhile, God, I’m a work in progress.  Please change me and let me experience Your love so I can love my children the way you want me to.  


2 thoughts on “Me at my Worst

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