The Dark Side

Lately I find my mind is constantly wandering, trying to figure out what this blog or this writing project will be. I don’t really know exactly what this will be. Maybe it will evolve beyond what I intended. When a seed is planted, who is to say how it will grow.

But here is what I hope this will be. I hope it will be a place where moms can find common ground and realize that they are not alone. The darkest feelings that we feel do not make us monsters. I won’t delve too deep into the dark side, at least not right now, but I think it might help to know that it’s there. Dark things are less scary when you call them out, confront them, give them a name.  

Dark things as in the times when we feel we really and truly ARE the worst mom ever. I met a new acquaintance at a friend’s house recently and we immediately connected over this. It’s that mommy meltdown at the end of the day where we just cannot take anymore and we legitimately lose it for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes. 

We hold it together all day long. We bite our tongues, take deep breaths, stifle our emotions, smooth things over, get through the moment, suck it up. Conceal it, don’t feel it. (Will I ever get the Disney princess songs out of my head?) We juggle and multitask, and micromanage. We do things, and remember things, and find things, and fix things. We keep the peace all day long, among the kids, inside ourselves, all of it. 

But that last little home stretch, not even a home stretch if you put it in perspective. Not even half of an inning. Maybe not even an out. Possibly just one pitch. A curve ball we weren’t expecting or just at the wrong time can throw everything off balance. 

We lose it. Mommy meltdown. Adult temper tantrum. Fifteen minutes and there is no going back. The words are out and cannot be unsaid, unheard. We were so close but it’s too late, that’s the game. 

And to add insult to injury, we spend the next several hours guilt-tripping ourselves for that fifteen minutes. Because we were so, so close and that makes it feel like all the more of a failure somehow. We can’t be nice and credit ourselves for the hours and hours of good we did before losing it. It’s gone. And it all came down to that one pitch. 

So yes, I want any other mom in that moment to know that she is not alone. She is not crazy. She is not mean or bad or a failure or anything shameful. She is normal. Maybe she’s tired or stressed or overwhelmed or burnt out or all of the above. Maybe she just needs to take care of herself more. 

Now that right there almost sounds like an accusation. One more item on the to do list that we did NOT accomplish. But self care is usually the first thing to fall through the cracks. And it just does not come naturally to so many people. In my own case I still struggle with recognizing when I need it, carving out the time, and choosing what things make the biggest impact. I think plenty of my own outbursts and meltdowns can be avoided with self care and I want to normalize it for others. 

But I would say it’s also okay to lose your shit sometimes. It really is. 

The guilt trip needs to be shorter or less extreme or nonexistent if possible. Sometimes we can do all the right things and we find ourselves pushed over the edge anyway. Sometimes the only thing to do is pause, breathe, reflect and reset. 

I think we need to talk about the dark side to know that we are not alone. Having company in the dark makes it much less scary. That seems like a place to start. And then maybe together, somehow, we can shed light on it.