Breaking Point

A few days ago I had a major panic attack. It’s not the first time I’ve had one, and I am sure it won’t be the last. I was at the end of my rope and even though I tried to explain it to Justin a few weeks prior, he just simply didn’t understand. To him, I’m sure my unhappiness sounded like whining. “This is so hard. They don’t listen. I don’t have a single second to myself.” The anxiety was slowly building in my body. I was going shorter and shorter time spans with a complete thought in my brain. It seemed that my head was full of cobwebs and I kept telling myself, “soon, Katie, you’ll be able to think all this through. Soon, you will be able to breathe again.” But then, it was too late.

We had a huge crowd in for Thanksgiving. Lots of people visiting, coming in and out. Lots of smiling, pretending it was all ok. Lots of defending my children for being children. Not that I needed to, but because I felt I should. There was no alone time, no down time, no quiet time. Throughout the week there were less and less deep breaths, less silent moments, less smiles. By Saturday afternoon, I had quite literally lost it. We were at a restaurant and the kids should have been napping. Never mind that though because Harrison hasn’t taken a nap in a week or so. It’s just a constant battle of the wills and he always wins. They were loud, they wouldn’t sit. They wouldn’t eat. And, oh, the mess. My parents were there, cackling about how fun it was to be grandparents and not be responsible for all of this. The blood inside my veins was boiling. Once my meal finally arrived (of course, through all of this stress, I’m trying to work out and eat healthy so I was famished at this point and all I wanted was to eat my sandwich), the kids had to be removed from the restaurant. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. Justin yelled at me. Later on, he told me he actually thought I was going to hurt one of the kids. That sentiment never crossed my mind, but you can imagine how I felt hearing that. That my own husband thought my anger and loss of control could come to that.

After we put the kids in bed for their naps (of course Harrison did not sleep), I crawled into my own bed. Justin came to ask if I was alright. I shook my head no. We whispered quietly, we acknowledged that something needed to be done. I still don’t know if he understands. I take an anti anxiety when I need to, and that is so infrequently that we had no idea where my medicine was. After half-heartedly searching my drawers and cabinets, I got back into bed and covered my head. Justin said, “Well, a nap isn’t going to fix it this time. You need to call your doctor.” I did, and she wrote me another prescription. After taking it, I was dead to the world for three straight hours. I woke up groggy and confused and insecure. The grogginess and confusion faded away after a few hours but the insecurity still hasn’t left me.

This parenting thing has got the best of me. It beat me down. My one job in the world has gotten me so tangled up that I have to be medicated to make it through. This is not something that I hide from my family and friends, or now, the internet. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, usually. But how on earth am I going to do this? They are still so little. Will I whittle away before they grow up? I am feeling so incompetent and weak. I yearn to be a natural caregiver, a nurturing parent. The truth of the matter is, I love my babies more than life itself. Why, then, is this so hard? 

Author: livefromtimeout

I am a stay at home mom of two vivacious toddlers, ages one and three. When I'm not refereeing, I like to workout and drink wine. But not at the same time.

10 thoughts on “Breaking Point”

  1. My heart hurt for you as I read this post Katie. I can relate, as I imagine most mothers if they are being honest probably can relate to your post too. The one thought that immediately popped into my mind is how (in my own experience) I tried for perfection in myself, in my children, my home and my marriage to the point of making me be someone I really didn’t want to be. Being older (ok much older) now allows me to look back and see it a lot clearer….I added stress striving for something that really wasn’t so important in the bigger picture. Please be kind to yourself Katie, you are more than ok, and more than loved by those two kiddos currently plucking your last nerve!!!!! This, too, shall pass. ❤️😘❤️

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    1. Ann, thank you for your constant support (both in reading my blog faithfully and in giving advice!) The big fear is becoming someone I don’t want to be. I’m finally realizing who I do want to be, and apparently that was the easy part. Becoming her is the hard part.

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  2. Dear Cousin Katie,
    Reading your post I couldn’t help thinking “God, I don’t miss those days”
    Any mom who says she hasn’t felt the same as you at some point is lying so bad that her pants are on fire. Managing toddlers is exhausting. They’re like miniature drunks
    Give yourself a break.. It’s okay to feel angry at them sometimes or panic at the idea that this will be forever. Remember they grow up eventually. Someday you’ll be able to finish a meal in peace..
    Your friend Ann who commented above is right. Try not to worry about doing everything right. You’re a good mom. xo
    Marybeth

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  3. You’re not alone. You’re one of the few, strong, courageous mothers who dares to take on the challenge of home-parenting. Children have no idea the stress and frustration they cause us adults. You need to vent more, whether in your writing or reaching out. Vent to the point of laughter; write a comedic dialogue to release the stress. I know you have it in you. Maybe write with tape on your forehead?! You’re an amazing woman and mother, I’m proud of you and love you sweetie, call anytime and I’ll bring the wine xo

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    1. I think you may never forget the tape on the forehead thing 🙂 Funny part is anyone reading this who has had a headache in my vicinity will know what you’re talking about! Let’s do wine soon. ❤ Miss you!

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  4. Katie, I so know what you are going through. Being a parent is so difficult! I remember feeling the same way when my children were little. I seriously didn’t think I was going to make it through. You don’t have to be perfect all the time, in fact you don’t have to be perfect at all. There are no perfect mothers. Take at least one or two nights out a week away from the kids with Justin. Get a sitter! I’ll come over and babysit! Go out to dinner, a movie, anything as long as you are away from the house and have some quiet time. It’s good for the kids to be away from you for awhile also. This doesn’t make you a bad mom, just human. Love you guys! You need a break. Call me. 557-5272. Louise

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  5. My love, my baby girl! I have told you repeatedly what a good mom you are! Do you realize that I felt the very same way when you and your brother were litte.
    We also got in the habit of taking a child care giver with us on vacations so we could have a few minutes of adult time together. (babysitters love going on vacay with you)
    This too shall pass and you will wish you had some of these moments back again.

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