The Toughest Week of my Year
As a Mom, Mother’s day should be exciting. I mean it is a day set aside for us, right?
Many people get depressed or suffer anxiety around the holidays. I deal with that periodically, but the week of Mother’s day and my birthday is my “blue period”.
My boys did not have a PTA attending, soccer Mom. In fact, I was so busy trying to keep bills paid and finish school that I missed out on being a present Mom. I did what I thought was my best at the time, but in retrospect I feel like I failed my children. I faced some extreme struggles with one of my children. He went to a juvenile wilderness camp, I even had him committed for psychiatric observation…twice. I believe to this day my son is struggling with an undiagnosed mental illness. His father was suspected by his neurologist to be bi-polar and frankly, my son’s patterns mimic the highs and lows of that disorder. During this time I was a probation officer so I relied on my training and logic to deal with my children, especially my troubled son. There should have been more heart than mind in some of my decisions.
I can state honestly, I did what I thought was best. I made decisions that ripped me apart just to try and keep my child safe. He has a family of his own now and I do not get to see him as often as I would like. I love my children, I always tried to do right by them, but I have learned to late what was needed was my time and attention.
Mother’s day is almost a day of mourning for me, a painful reminder that I do not deserve to be celebrated.
My birthday is the 15th so within a week of Mother’s day, my least favorite day arrives hot on its heels. It’s not about getting older, I would not be 25 again for all the money in the world. Each year I age is an accomplishment. My dislike of my birthday started on my 16th birthday. No one (meaning my family) acknowledged the day until the day was nearly over. Birthdays were never big events, a cake and maybe a few small gifts, but it was just a day with special dessert.
Now it is just a day on the calendar. My husband normally remembers a card, but there is nothing special about it. It’s not an act of people being cold, we all have other things going on. Life is too busy to celebrate it seems. I know it sounds petty and small, but it hurts to be forgotten. I send out cards and make special plans for birthdays and I barely seem to register.
It’s small of me to roll around in this pile of self pity. I try every year to rise above, but I keep getting sucked back in. I am ashamed to be sad because no one acknowledged my birthday. I am ashamed that I do not deserve the Mother’s day so many of my peers, friends and family deserve. These two events shake any progess I make on forgiving myself and improving from here on. I know God has forgiven me, I need help to forgive myself.
This was depressing, I know. Sorry about that.
For all the Mothers – Happy Mother’s Day. The children did not come with instructions. I am reminded of the movie “Mom’s Night Out”. In one scene they talk about not being good enough. The man she is confiding in states (paraphrased) God knew what he was doing and you are enough. I have to get over myself and with God’s help I will. You can too.