It’s Mother’s Day
I feel like I should write something even though I can’t stand this god-forsaken pseudo-holiday. Don’t get me wrong. I love my mama. She’s been good to me. Better than I probably deserve. She has treated me like one of her own ever since she married my dad, even when I didn’t want to let her. For my mama alone, I celebrate this day.
However, there’s the fact that this holiday also reminds me of the woman who gave birth to me. Her name is Satan. You may have heard of her. I don’t think about her much, but when I do, it’s to check myself that I am not “parenting” anything like her. She doesn’t deserve any mother’s day recognition. And neither do I.
How can a person celebrate being a mother when sometimes her mind makes her hate the fact that she is a mother? When sometimes she wishes she wasn’t? When some days she can’t do anything right and knows that no matter how hard she tries, her daughter is not getting the attention and love that she needs because her mommy is crazy?
Please don’t get me wrong. I love my baby girl with love I didn’t even know I had until I saw her tiny, beautiful little face. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the entire world. I work hard every day to make sure she is healthy, learning, growing and happy. I’m here for her to jump on and play with to her heart’s content.
Some days I just feel like my best isn’t good enough. That’s part of the crazy. When my mind tells me she’d be better off without me. That everyone would be better off without me. It says that I can’t do anything right and that because I’m so sick and tired all the time, I’m not worthy of the titles “wife” and “mother” because too often I don’t live up to them. That I’ll never live up to them. That my husband and daughter will soon realize what a fraud I am – how useless I am – and will stop loving me. Or leave me.
Even crazier than that is that it doesn’t sound so crazy to me. Sometimes I believe it.
Maybe even today, I believe it.
How can I celebrate being a mother on Mother’s Day when I just don’t feel I’ve done enough to be celebrated?
The answer to that is clear: Alcohol. 🙂