my week as a basket case
So this last week, I’ve been a basket case. I was going to write “I’ve not been the best mother”, which is true perhaps, but I just read Lindsay’s post and now I feel like putting it that way is putting too much pressure and shame on myself for being, well, normal. I hate when I’m not 100% the best mom I can possibly be, because of course I feel like M deserves that. But no one can be 100% anything all of the time, and yet this last week has been particularly bad for me, to the point where I’ve looked up planetary alignments and checked in with my menstrual cycle, just to see what’s up.
Last Saturday I went to the grocery store, with M, as usual. I noticed how spacey I was, how my surroundings and even my daughter felt like a dream. I’ve been feeling a bit out of touch with myself, I guess. Like, who am I besides a mom? Or besides someone who takes care of other people? I remember who I was before being a mom, before my grandparents started needing so much help. I remember being able to simply do and be whatever was in line with my self. So here I am, wondering if that self even exists anymore, and if it does, has it changed? Or has it just stayed the same, stagnated, not matured with the rest of me since I haven’t nurtured it.
In fact, I’ve been happiest (or least unsettled) when I’m working, which is opposite of how it normally is and how it should be. I’m so distracted by the demands of my job and the problems of my patients, it relieves me from even thinking about this stuff. I tried reaching out to my bestie, but she is too busy with her work and travel to respond. She knows everything about everything in my life, so I wish she was closer or had more time to talk. I honestly have no one else to just be “me” with, and apart from co-workers while I’m working and occasional chats with neighbors, I have no friends to just unload onto. The playgroups/music classes have some nice moms, but we haven’t connected beyond anything superficial, and some of them are just really clique-y and sort of “that mom”, the perfect bake sale mom, two kids two years apart, a dog, a husband, and a lovely large house with matching furniture. I’m so not that mom. I don’t identify with that lifestyle and they don’t identify with mine.
I hope, at least, that this weird spacey funk I’m in lets up enough soon that I can be more fun and in touch with M. I don’t feel engaged right now, and I know she senses that. In fact, I lost some things that were very precious to me (they’re missing), and spent some time crying yesterday, and she was very sad, trying to comfort me and make me feel better. I have no problem showing my daughter that I have emotions, that I can be comforted, and that it’s ok not to always feel good. On the other hand, I don’t want to be a mess in front of her very often without a real good reason.
So, I guess I’m just feeling the urge for some “me” time, and yet I don’t necessarily want to be alone. I definitely need to reset somehow, but ultimately I’m not sure how to go about it. I’m just hoping it passes on its own.