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aMOMymous: A Letter to Myself

A Letter to Myself
signed, aMOMymous

When your soul starts to bleed, you know you’re in trouble.

Hell, at least I’m feeling something.

And when I say something, I kind of mean a lot. I’m consumed with guilt, inadequacy, anxiety, sleeplessness, loss of libido, gaining of pounds, the admission of other people’s opinions on why I’m doing it wrong, a few emotions that involve hurting myself/my husband/my babies/the cashier at Target…

<gasp>

Yes.  If you could teach a soul to speak, I’m certain mine would break its silence with a sobbing plea for mercy.  I sit in my idle car at a red light and whimper to myself, “Can they hear me screaming inside?”  I mean, do you hear it, too?

Confession:  I used to be in love with myself.  No, seriously – full on vanity, full on lack-of-shame.  Ever since I got my first car I’ve been bending down the rearview mirror so I can take delight in my profile, viewed from just the right angle, in just the right amount of natural light, with just the right mysterious glare gazing back.  I admit it.  Sometimes I look to myself for inspiration.

But here lately I’ve realized that I’m avoiding my reflection.  I’m afraid I won’t be happy with what I see.  I’m afraid I won’t recognize myself.  I’m afraid to see the void and the anger and the desperation staring back at me.

Let me bring you up to speed.  I’m a thirty-something gal who’s deep in the trenches of her second round of post partum.  I haven’t slept in three months.  I haven’t slept soundly in three years.  I’m not sure how long it’s been since I’ve had sex with my husband.  I might be a little bit disgusted by my marriage, my house, the world.  The stretch marks, they sag now, and I can’t pound three margaritas in a row (to make it just all go away) because I’m breastfeeding.  I wear makeup to church, which is once a week.  On the other twenty-six days a month I just avoid the mirror.  I used to be fabulous.  I used to care.

God, help me.  I think my dark cloud is here.

2 thoughts on “aMOMymous: A Letter to Myself

  1. Kudos to you for being so brutally honest…It is a trait that is unfairly under-rated. Making the transition to parenthood is one of which no one is ever fully prepared. And when we begin to stumble upon the chaos and uncertainty of it all (which for most of us is the moment we realize that the nurses from the hospital are NOT coming home with us) we are often left feeling caught off guard, and feeling failure for not knowing how to proceed. It is my guess that you are doing a fine job as a mother, in fact, I would bet that you are doing a fantastic job, but because you are also in the midst of incredible and might I add, rightly justified emotional turmoil, it is very hard for you to see the progress you are making as you morph into the dual role of individual AND parent.

    I promise, I too have been where you are. I remember a time in my life when sitting on my kitchen floor sobbing, surrounded by spilled cheerios, one screaming baby, and one very confused toddler, was practically a daily event. But it wasn’t long before I started to see things differently. I would give myself time for a good cry, but then I reminded myself that my babies needed me. And I needed me. If I was going to get through the rest of the day, I needed to pick myself up, clean up the mess, and get back to life.

    Don’t be afraid to indulge in those moments, however. As long as they don’t evolve into self proclaimed pity parties, moments like those can provide incredible revelations…try and look for them.

    My advice: Start small. Begin including one little thing into your day that will help you reconnect with who you are as a person, (who you once were, but also who you continue to become!). Start wearing that awesome shade of lipstick that you used to love, in fact, wear it to the grocery store or better yet, when you go out to get the mail! Buy yourself a beautiful hard cover journal and a fancy pen and spill your guts out every day, but make sure to mention at least ONE positive event, thought or phrase. Go for an early morning or late night walk- all by yourself. Just do whatever you can to prioritize and commit to that one little thing each day…soon enough you’ll discover that getting back to who you once were is no longer the goal…instead, I bet you anything, you’ll begin loving and admiring this new person- this combination of individual self, mommy, wife, etc…with a lot more tenacity than you’d ever before imagined.

    Give yourself the freedom to EVOLVE.

    You’ll get there, I promise. But in the meanwhile, keep making room for all the emotions, the questions, and the courage. They are important aspects of the process, and believe me, it is a never ending process. You might as well start enjoying it. Just sharing it all here is making an impact and helping others know they are not alone. I look forward to your next aMOMymous letter!

  2. Ditto what Kate said! Isn’t it amazing what we go through and, all the while, we have such a strong community of fellow mommies who are cheering us on at every stage of the journey?!

    The job of Mommy – there’s nothing like it. The highs, the lows; the ins, the outs; the darkness; the incredible love and accomplishment.

    Hang in there, sister! But, please do keep dishing the brutally honest… it’s actually quite comforting to read 🙂

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