At this moment in my life, parenting experts—if there are such a thing—could probably use me as a case study in “How To Self-Reflect And Adjust Your Perspective After A Parenting Meltdown.”
Three weeks ago, I woke up, hyperventilated myself into some sort of mom-life crisis, and then blogged about it for the whole world to read—and probably judge. I was embarrassed and ashamed at the time, but I’ve come to realize it may have been a blessing in disguise. I say that because it unexpectedly served as a stark wake-up call that forced me to put my life under a microscope and study the hell out of it to determine how I got to this point and where I’m going from here.
In the silence following that post, I quickly realized I had hit my own personal version of parenting rock bottom. That I had become a bit of a broken record, all woe is me and depressing negativity and this is hard and that is hard and all sorts of other self-deprecating nonsense. I mean, geez, I’m the one living and writing about these stories and they were starting to depress even me! LOL. I’ve come to appreciate that no one really wants to read that stuff—at least not all the time. So, I need to fix it. This momma’s pen has been black for a while now, and it’s time for a change. It’s time to get back to the unicorns and rainbows of life!
I had to do some serious soul-searching (and whining and crying to my husband) to get here, though. These last few weeks, I pulled back from everything and everyone to quiet my mind and reflect on why I’ve been in such a negative place and how I can bring some positivity back into my life—and my family’s life. In the process, I discovered a few things about myself:
1. I’ve let the tedium and chaos that comes with parenting transform me into someone who’s too weak, tired, anxious, and stressed out to be gracious, thankful, and positive about the amazing blessings in her life. And, man, once I opened my mind’s eye and looked, I was overcome with the bounty of those blessings! But instead, I allowed the pessimistic, cynical part of me to depress my soul, cloud my judgment, and impair my ability to parent. Parenting is not for the weak, my friends, and unfortunately weak is all I’ve been. But not anymore.
2. I’ve been so consumed with caring for my family—understandably—that I’ve somehow forgotten to take care of myself, which became abundantly clear after my embarrassing meltdown. After all, when you’ve lost the person you once were, how can you truly know what it is that you want or need anymore? As a mom, it’s so easy to be consumed by guilt for even thinking about yourself, let alone acting on those thoughts. What I’ve come to realize now, though, is that my own self-care is critical to my family’s well-being. And that, as a mom, being a little selfish isn’t selfish at all. In fact, one could even argue that it’s selfless, because we mommas just cannot be our best selves—and the parents our kids require and deserve—until we acknowledge, accept, and nurture our own wants and needs.
3. I’ve been relying heavily on social media—primarily Facebook—as a means of escape and “support,” and we all know how detrimental social media is to our health, whether we’re willing to admit it or not. The more I obsessively followed my news feed, the worse I felt about myself—as a mom, a woman, a person. Watching the world pretend to be happy and perfect and fulfilled is downright depressing and infuriating, and I’m tired of buying into it. Not to mention the relentless negative news stories that constantly pop up all over the place. It makes me want to bury my head in the sand.
4. And then there’s the biggie: I’m afraid of and anxious about the future, which I never fully allowed myself to admit until now. Back when I first got pregnant and decided to quit my job to be a stay-at-home—something I’ve wanted all my life—I didn’t realize just how much of myself I was giving up. And I certainly didn’t understand or appreciate how hard and daunting it would be to rediscover the professional side of me that I once took for granted. It seemed as if I had all the time in the world before my kids started school full time and I would need to figure out the next phase in my life. But now that time is upon me and, quite honestly, I’m petrified. I have so many questions running through my head about this. Do I remain a stay-at-home or go back to work? And in what capacity? Back to editing? A whole new field? Freelancing? Should I try and start my own business? What would that look like? Should I buckle down and write that book I’ve always dreamed about—and that everyone’s telling me I should write? What’s best for my family? What’s best for me? All I know is that I want to be home as much as possible for my children, and right now I’ve got no easy answers for how to accomplish that. And therein lies my fear, my tension, my anxiety.
I suppose I’ve had this jumble of negative thoughts and emotions for a while now, bubbling away just below the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to boil over. And then they all came gushing out in a moment of silence—the anger, fear, frustration, anxiety, and, of course, the tears. Oh, the tears! Looking back, though, I’m so thankful for that meltdown. It sounds so cliché, but it really put my life into perspective. Because once I calmed down and took some time to ponder my situation, I realized that I’m going to be OK. I don’t need to figure everything out right now. I’m not on any sort of timetable, even if it sometimes feels like I am. I can do this—rewrite the stars of my life—at my own pace. I simply have to accept my flaws and weaknesses, forgive my past mistakes, keep facing forward, and make some positive changes in my life.
And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
Interestingly, one of the most important changes I’ve made is to disengage from all social media. Other than fulfilling my “duties” as president of my local mom’s club, I’ve been avoiding Facebook like the plague (this coincided quite nicely with Lent). I thought it would be a lot harder to give up because I had, embarrassingly, become so dependent on it, but it was the easiest thing in the world. And let me tell you, saying sayonara almost instantly lightened my mind, my mood, my entire being. I didn’t feel all that depressed or sad anymore. Without it, I had no one to compare myself or my life to and the overwhelming clarity I gained from that was … intoxicating and empowering. I haven’t felt this happy in months and that happiness spilled over into everything else in my life, including my family. Even my husband commented on how much calmer and content I seem. So, as if I needed any further confirmation, then this is it: Facebook truly is a drug and that’s the last thing I need in my life right now. I’ll stick with my Josh, Disney, and Game of Thrones addictions, thank you very much! (Winter Is Coming people, and I’ve never been more ready!)
With Facebook and other social media out of the way, I gained oodles and oodles of “free” time, which allowed me to focus on more important things, such as my own self-care. I started plowing through self-help books, homing in on anything and everything that would ease my anxieties and stimulate my mind and body. I subscribed to two writing magazines and scoured them for information and inspiration. I began scoping out online journals and publications in which to submit my own writings. (In fact, I already submitted two essays; I have yet to hear back, but even if I don’t at least I had the courage to put myself out there, and I will continue to do so.) I began researching local colleges for continuing education classes and seminars and, despite my fears and anxieties, registered for my first class, which is coming up in a week.
And finally, we started going back to church as a family. I’m not a religious or even a spiritual person, but as I was sobbing on the floor of my foyer and (finally) praying to God for answers just a few short weeks ago, it became abundantly clear to me that He was giving me some sort of a sign. That the events leading up to my meltdown were his way of saying “OK, we tried things your way, but now it’s time for you to be quiet and listen.” In much the same way we as parents might push our children to try something on their own and possibly fail before we swoop in to help pick up the pieces and offer our support. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my writings—my blog, really—are what led me here. After all, I started this blog with a story from a homily that truly inspired me to follow my dream. I see now that I lost Him somewhere along the way—not intentionally—but now it’s time to let Him back in.
So, that’s what I’ve been doing with my time away. It feels so good just to write about it. And to write about it in a purely positive way. I know I didn’t make any big, bold changes in my life, but that’s the beauty of it: Sometimes the smallest changes can have the biggest impact. I’m always going to be a work in progress (who isn’t?), but for the first time in months, I finally feel like I can breathe. And all because I allowed myself the luxury of taking a few simple baby steps. I don’t know yet where my path will lead, but I’m hopeful and confident that the quickest way to get there is by taking it slow.