Is it Spiritual?

This violently ill nausea comes over me as I fight the thoughts. Usually 7-10 days before my period comes, it gets worse. It over takes me, by the day  my period starts, I’m curled up in a ball on the floor of my office, crying, unable to think or act or function. The thoughts won’t stop. The argument, the checking, the reassuring, the endless pits of what ifs.

The sickness.

My dad suffers from the same thing, only, I don’t think he quite yet grips that it’s not real. I was there a year ago, I thought I was going insane. Until I found, “OCD,” I thought I was literally losing my mind.

He told me, just two days ago, he was stringing a rope from the balcony of their house, he tied a vacuum cleaner to the rope to see if it would hold him, if the rope was long enough. His thoughts have tormented him. I think it started years and years ago, but it gets worse. It gets harder. The logical thing to do is to argue, to make it not true. To finally fall on your face, and BEG God, please, don’t let it be true.

The tricky fucked up thing about OCD is, it won’t ever let you really find “true.” No relief. No end. Just more questions, and fear, and anxiety, and crumbling.

I’ve hear other people describe OCD as demonic. When I heard this, I could only agree. It finds the deepest most hidden terrors, and makes you believe they are real. They could happen. Did they happen?

They say the only thing which will help is to stop fighting the thoughts, just observe and let them be there. Unattached. Accept the thoughts. Fuck.

Exposure therapy. Fuck.

Drugs……. what if they make me insane? Psychotic. Shit, it’s right on the bottle, it could happen, it does happen.

So what are we left with? We are left facing down a monster. And that monster is us.  I don’t look in the mirror. Since the OCD started, I’m nothing to look at any longer.

The last “thought attack’ has lasted about 6-8 weeks. Some better days where I can at least function, other days, I cannot. It found me. It found my greatest sins, my darkest fears. It showed me they are real. It’s my fault. It’s really happened.

I have always been a fighter, I have been knocked down, destroyed. But there is always this tiny voice inside yelling, “GET UP AND FIGHT.”

This last attack killed her. I shattered. I have no will. I have no strength. It broke me this time.

I am a shell. I will never be the same. The thoughts, the truth. The sickness. It feels like it has won. Destruction.

My father said to me last night, this word I have heard but never paid attention to. Leviathan.

In this sick kind of way, I almost feel peace. A known enemy is better than an unknown enemy.

“They” say, those who have OCD turn to religion, prayer rituals, clinging to church etc. It’s a manifestation of the OCD. Of trying to protect ourselves from what is happening.

Maybe, even considering what I am about to write, just means I have slipped deeper into this hole.

Maybe, I have hit the nail on the head.

You decide.

First, it’s stated “Leviathan” is a principality. Not a demon. Not a spirit.

Does this OCD feel more horrific than any “bad” experience you gave ever had? Being tormented from the inside of your own mind? Making you lose it on the outside?

Let’s look at the definition of a principality.

“A principality can either be a monarchical feudatory or a sovereign state, ruled or reigned over by a monarch with the title of prince or by a monarch with another title within the generic use of the term prince.”

The second in charge over something/somewhere. A ruler. In charge.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against rules of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”  Ephesians 6:12

Let’s look at the definition of Leviathan.

“Word Origin and History for leviathan
n.

late 14c., “sea monster, sea serpent,” also regarded as a form of Satan,from Late Latin leviathan, from Hebrew livyathan “dragon, serpent, hugesea animal,” of unknown origin, perhaps related to liwyah “wreath,” fromroot l-w-h- “to wind, turn, twist.” Of powerful persons or things fromc.1600. Hobbes’s use is from 1651.

Online Etymology Dictionary, © 2010 Douglas Harper
Cite This Source
leviathan in Culture
Leviathan [(luh- veye -uh-thuhn)]

A sea monster mentioned in the Book of Job, where it is associated with theforces of chaos and evil.”

Note : Figuratively, a “leviathan” is any enormous beast.

This is most interesting to me…. “unknown origin, perhaps related to liwyah “wreath,” from root l-w-h- “to wind, turn, twist.”

I found THIS article, “Defeating Leviathan.” I first started reading, and thought, “Oh this isn’t really correct.” But, I read the whole article. The way this principality is described to operate, especially in the Bible, “The monster of the waters,” the author keeps speaking of “a sea of people.”

To me, I thought, each of us has this eternal inside of us, these deep dark waters, OCD feels as if something has found the depths of this place, drug up our own hell, and tormented us with it.

“That twisting serpent,” (Isaiah 27:1), does OCD feel like a twisting serpent?

The author basically goes on to say, it will grab you in it’s jaws, and toss and turn and shake you, like a crocodile does…..until you are so broken, so weak, you give up.

Some interesting quotes from the article,

“The Psalmist spoke in plural about the heads of the dragon.  When there are many heads, there is confusion……..The result is confusion and distrust.”- OCD leaves me feeling confused and mistrustful of my own mind.

“Then He said, “Leviathan has come at you in the form or right-ness or righteousness.  He is declaring to be right, claiming to be righteous,  asserting to stand up for what’s right, not caring who he puts in his jaws to ruin.” -OCD sure feels like it’s right, that’s why we argue to prove it wrong because we so desperately want it to be wrong.

An interesting fast forward from some sermon notes I have inserted below….

“2 Corinthians 10:5 (KJV) 5 Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;” – Doesn’t OCD claim to be right? Righteous? Doesn’t it feel like a high thing, exhaulting itself above all. I get this picture in my mind of this giant beast attacking, laughing, holding itself so high and mighty above us, this OCD. Then, I see, casting down it’s claims, and bringing it into captivity and obedience, like a scolded dog, turning down with it’s tail between it’s legs.

Christ. maybe this is so much easier than fighting back.

Maybe, OCD is Leviathan.

Back to the article about Leviathan.

“In Isaiah 27:7 (JKV) he is called the “piercing serpent.”  The word “piercing” in Hebrew means roaming, shifting, focusing only on the temporary.”

– OCD surely does roam and shift and focuses on this second……. cause as soon as you get to the bottom of this second it is waiting to shift, and begin roaming all over again.

“Leviathan seems bigger than he is…………….. Part of the devil’s plan is to intimidate you into giving in so he won’t have to fight.  Nothing – not even Leviathan’s attack – is ever as bad as it seems.”

– I mean…….we are literally waring with fucking thoughts……….. thoughts for God’s sake!!!! Thoughts that can bring a 68 year old grown man to contemplate hanging himself…… thoughts.

“Leviathan is crooked. Crooked means deceitful.  A person who is affected by Leviathan will not give you a straight answer.  You feel that you’re dealing with something you can’t nail down.  The worst kinds of problems are those you can’t identify.  They are nebulous, like “the Blob” in the old horror movie,  Leviathan doesn’t walk in the front door and introduce himself.  He is crooked, shifty and deceitful.”

-Can you nail down OCD. Can you finally get to the depths of this shifting…… “Aha…..got you!” OCD is deceitful. Crooked.

“Can you draw out the leviathan with a hook, or hold down his tongue with a cord?
He beholds all high things; he is a king over all the sons of pride.
  Job 41:1,34

Remember this, over the “sons of pride.”

It’s like this hidden enemy. I have crumbled under the weight of my own mind. My business is falling apart. My marriage. My life. I have tried to pray, to face it. To nail it down. I haven’t been able to as of yet.

I can barely eat. I drink too much coffee, smoke too many cigarettes, try to numb it with Xanax. Make it stop. God, please make it stop. It takes all of my energy to hid it during my children’s waking hours. To not research. Check. Argue. Verify. Fall apart. Cry. Have a panic attack.

I see my husband knowing. He doesn’t know how to stop it. I think he is irritated. He told me this was a spiritual battle from nearly the first moment.

“When God gave me the vision of Leviathan, I also saw it has a thick skin.  I asked the Lord why, and He said, “Because you can throw rocks at him.  You can hammer him.  You can shoot at him with BB guns and pellet guns.  You can yell at him.  You can scream at him, but his skin is thick.  It doesn’t bother him at all.”
I said, “What do we do about him?”
Immediately the scripture came to me, “This kind does not go out except by prayer and fasting.”  (Matthew 127:10)”

I was fasting when this last thought hit me. Over the years I do cleansing fasts, this time was just a short 4 day fast. 3 days fruits and veggies, on the 4th day, pineapple juice and water. That’s when it happened. The thought.

I wasn’t praying and fasting. Only fasting.

I was involved in an online dispute. I said something proud and haughty to another parent, concerning my children compared to theirs. It was on the fourth day, pineapple juice and water.

BAM. The thought attacked me. It was about my daughter. It murdered me inside. I am no longer.

The author of this article talks about Leviathan being the prince/king of the proud.

It’s been almost two months I have wrestled. I emailed the person, and apologized. That will not take back what I said. I prayed to God to heal their heart, to throw my comment into the sea of forgetfulness. Let it be no more. Do not let my words torture and torment them.

I found these sermon notes about a month ago, Notes-11.13.16, some more quotes…..

“For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, 5 casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, Our Battle is not against people, it is a spiritual battle with the devil and his demons. He wants to penetrate our mind and our thoughts!”

“A stronghold is any area of our lives where we are held as a captured prisoner, because of the way the devil and his demons have caused us to think, feel and act!”

“Strongholds are first established in the mind; that is why we are to take every, thought captive. Behind a stronghold is also a lie—a place of personal bondage where God’s Word has been subjugated to any unscriptural idea or personally confused belief that is held to be true. Behind every lie is a fear, and behind every fear is an idol. Idols are established wherever there exists a failure to trust in the provisions of God that are ours through Jesus Christ.”

“Satan attempts to defeat us with strategies and deceitfulness with deliberate, well, thought out plans based upon lies, distortions, distractions and deceit.” – Sound familiar?

“Ephesians 6:10-17 (NKJV) 10 Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. 11 Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. 14 Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, 15 and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; 16 above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. 17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God;”

One more thought about Leviathan, the author of “Defeating Leviathan,” makes an interesting statement about, as this being turns to leave, it will attempt to wipe you out with it’s tail. One. Final. Swipe.

Avoid this. Be aware of this. Protect yourself from this.

Maybe, we have fought this wrong.

I am feeling like I want to be stronger. I have to be stronger. I have to eat. I have to put on the whole Armor of God, and STAND.

Prayer and fasting.

I am not going to eat during working hours, 9-5. I will be praying this time.

Every time a thought comes, I am going to state, “I refuse to argue with you devil.”

I’m not going to argue.

I’m going to stand.

This is a different kind of battle.

I’m going to watch out for it’s tail.

(Side note, I chose the image for this post after writing, at the bottom of the pic on the page HERE, It states, “Special thanks to Rev. Leviathan for the use of his picture….. wtheck? It’s an interesting read as well.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Shoulda, woulda, coulda…

I miss passion.

Right before my husband and I got back together (before we were married…we had a pretty bad split), there was this man that walked into the gym I worked at.

Fuck.

Only one other time had I felt that so instantly. Like the electricity in the air was moving between us. My entire body wanted to walk to him lick his neck, nibble over his chin, and bite his bottom lip. Climb on top of him.

I felt like he could have been a god. The god that was meant for me. We would have looked beautiful standing next to eachother. I think our sex would have been spiritual. Tantric.

For weeks he would come in, once a week. Same day. Same time. I almost couldn’t bare it. I couldn’t look away from him, but I couldn’t not look at him either. It tortured me. It obsessed my body.

We only made eye contact once. He smiled at me in a moment where he caught me smiling at something else.

Other than that, I have no idea if he even knew I was alive. How could he not feel what I was feeling, though? We were meant to know eachother. It felt to me like our souls must already know eachother.

Then one day, after about 4-5 months, he was gone.

Just gone.

During this time, my now husband and I had begun talking again… Possibly to work things out. Who really knows.

It all started when my cat, who lived at his house for the time, caught fleas from the squirrels under the deck. She infested the basement (thank God, only the basement). I had to go help rid the house and my cat of fleas.

During the time he and I were split, I was having a lot of fun. Even met a couple guys. Flirted. Partied. Enjoyed having my own time to myself so much. I always hated that “answering to someone” feeling. I just wanted to live and do what I wanted. I loved just being free. Relaxing. Hanging out.

After the flea incident, we had started chit chatting on the phone here n there.

In my heart though, that little voice which is me, told me, “it’s over.” “This is not the right path for your life. This is not the right man. He’s sweet. But this isn’t right.”

I knew she was there talking to me, but I spent so long learning to shut her up, it became automatic.

I couldn’t really just do what was right for me. What I wanted. I had to consider everyone. How they would feel. How my decisions would affect their lives.

Even if no one really seemed to return this favor.

Looking back now, I know it was guilt and feeling bad for him which pulled us together, not my desire to be with him.

One day, in a grand gesture, my now husband showed up at my house. It was a stressful morning, rushing around for a meeting an hour from my home.

In his usual fashion, he completly failed to notice what I was doing or going through in this moment. He insisted on proclaiming his undying love for me. It was all so clear to him now. He had to rush over to tell me.

I was taken back. That little voice was saying, ” NO…. Run, don’t get pulled back in, you’re almost free.”

I told him I was in a rush. I’d call him on my drive to the meeting.

We were on the phone nearly an hour. By the time I got close to the meeting, I had this fear start gripping me. This, what I know know as, “impending doom,” feeling.

I pulled over on the side of the road, he tried to calm me down. Walk me through it. I had NO idea what was happening or why or what caused it. In my mind, it was in no way related to what was happening with him and my inner voice.

I thought I was dying. I felt I was going to die. Something was going to kill me.

I pulled ot together enough to make it to my meeting. Sitting there, I started having chest pains and this weird feeling in my brain, almost like cockroaches were crawling around in there.

Of course this all freaked me out. I though, maybe I’m having a stroke.

My work partner noticed, asked if he should call an ambulance. To my surprise, I answered, “yes.”

I never go to the doctor, let alone a hospital! Of course it was this big scene. And this really hot guy, who had been flirting with me on occasion for the past couple months heard the EMT ask about my poop that day and if there was anything strange about it! OMG.

I ended up at the hospital, where I was told I was having a panic attack. Of course, my now husband showed up there too. The doctor told me to breathe into a bag if that ever happened again, and then sent me a $3000 bill. OMG seriously?

I went home, and my then ex, now husband never really went away. Never gave me space or room or time to think through anything. Never asked me if we wanted to get back together. Just kind of assumed we were. I never said different.

The anxiety didn’t stop. It got to the point I couldn’t drive. Couldn’t work. Couldn’t focus.

I finally went to a psychiatrist, he prescribed xanax. .25 mg in the am and pm.

I took it. It helped. It numbed the feeling of panic.

Then, I kept drinking. That numbed me more.

I had a lot of anger and hate inside. I never got addicted to the xanax, but couldn’t stop the drinking.

I realized I was an alcoholic, but didn’t want to admit it. It was pretty bad.

I was functional though, till, I wasn’t.

Anyway, at some point in all of this, Zeus, my nick name for the guy who disappeared, showed back up at the gym, this time with a woman, I later found out was his ex. He looked like shit. He looked like I felt. His eyes were souless like mine.

This time, I knew he knew that I knew. Because, I knew that he knew me too.

It was too late. Our moment, our opportunity was gone.

We both knew it. We both regretted it.

I still think about him, 5 years later. I don’t know if he has ever thought of me again.

I emailed him once, a week before my wedding.

I did a little digging, found out he was a masseuse. I emailed asking for an appointment. Then casually dropped that I recognized him from the gym.

We emailed back and forth a bit, and in all honesty, he was almost begging me to come for a massage. He knew who I was. I am pretty sure he wanted the same thing I did.

I was the thinnest and most beautiful I had ever been in my life. I wanted to know what his hands felt like on my body.

In the end, I stated that I was attracted to him, and it would make me uncomfortable. At that point, he stopped emailing.

In reality, I was afraid. I was afraid I would go for this massage and end up making love on the table with a strange man days before my wedding.

I wish I had gone.

I miss the feeling of my skin burning for someone. Craving them. Being frantic. Ready to orgasm before he’s even inside.

Maybe, all of this was in my head. Maybe, he just wanted a new client.         Maybe, maybe, maybe….not.

 

I Looked at My Reflection, in a window walking by…..

And I saw a stranger….

I don’t look at myself in the mirror any longer. I can’t. I don’t recognise the person staring back at me. No eye contact.

Who is she? What happened to the woman who used to stand there? The strong woman? The woman who set out to conquer the world? The woman who could have?

In just 4 years….4 years, I went from a beautiful young woman who looked at least five years younger than my age, to a woman so worn out, so tired, and wrinkled and old…. I’d currently place myself as five years older than I actually am.

Ive only been married and then pregnant a total of 4 years. That’s when the aging started. But, this ride, this hard life, has been 20 years in the making.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s not hormones and brain chemicals. What if depression, anxiety, OCD are direct results of not listening to your inner guide for so many years. Do you know what I mean?

When your gut tells you to quit your job, or don’t marry him, or you should move, or jump ship now…..and you don’t listen. It’s like, by not following the inner compass which would have led you to the life you were supposed to have, you smashed that compass and are now dealing with the life you created.

I love my children, and would live this hopelessness for a thousand years for them. Inside though, it’s a struggle to wade in the waters of everything else.

I don’t care about my marriage. I don’t care about my husband. I feel he has had ZERO sense of responsibility in our lives. I feel he is selfish. I feel he just wants me to care about him and his needs. Take take take. He doesn’t even see me.

My family has been the same way. I’m the daughter of two narcissists. I’m not saying this in a funny “haha” kind of way. It’s real. And they have made me the “scapegoat child.” The one who is expected to carry the responsibility of them and their lives forever.

I have had countless relationships where I was used and abused.

I am simply left with this emptiness. This feeling that I want everyone who has hurt me or taken from me to feel like shit. I want them to know what they have done and see and feel my hate and anger.

But really….. I was a willing participate. I allowed every single moment of this life to happen. Granted, I was programmed this way. It’s only really this last year I can even see the surface of what’s happened.

I don’t want this life any longer. I find myself wanting to put my children in the car and leave with them. I want to spend my years….MY YEARS…. The way I want to spend them.

I’m in pretty deep though. I’ve taken on an abundance of responsibility that doesn’t belong to me. How do I “untake it?”

I dont know.

But, I’m going to. I have shut up my inner “gut feeling” for so long I don’t even trust myself to hear her clearly. I believe that’s where I will have to start. I have to focus on hearing her again.

Then I have to listen to what she says to me.

Finally, I must put into action, and take back my life.

I will stop being angry over those who I have allowed to steal from me. I will stop trying to punish them. I will stop feeling sorry for myself.

I will take back my life. I will walk by a window and look proudly into the woman who is staring back at me. I will know her. Love her. I will be her.

Heads Carolina Tails California

I miss the soul experience of youth.

This is the longest I’ve ever forced her into silence. The most debilitating. Crippling. Changing. The time wasted can never again be done. The pain cannot be reversed. My skin isnt returning to its glow. The years are not being erased from my hands.

No matter how hard I wish, there is only going forward. So many opportunities passed. Dreams fogotten.

I find myself jealous of the young girls and women I see. So happy. Two friends sitting at the bar laughing. A girl at the beach, the perfect tan. They are not here yet. I was them. I used to look at women like me and think, “what happened to you?” Now I know.

I find myself wanting to go back. I would love to do it all again. I miss the tickle of a first kiss. The butterflies of new love. The lust. The energy of being young.

I am wasting the youth I have left. There is barely a glimmer of her there, the down hill future is so much more prominent in my mind.

It’s over.

The best years are gone. But wait…. These are the best years, aren’t they?

I see the looks older women give me as I pass with my arms full of struggle. They miss these days. Shit, someone even wrote a song about it.

I wasted those days and miss them now. I am wasting these days and I will miss them then….

In the words of one of my favorites, “What kind of fuckery is this????”

 

 

I Hate Myself

So, my mom shows up for a visit, just in time yesterday. She lives about 12 hours away and is here for 11 days.

Last night, my daughter wakes up screaming. Now, if this were an occasional thing, I believe, I would be much more sensitive to it. However, her sleeping and fighting sleeping has been a two year exhausting battle. My husband says I have to let the past go and deal with only today, but, really….. there were nights for 6 months straight where she would be up every 45 mins all night long and then wake up at 5 am for the day. It’s worn on me over time.

Anyway, my mom gets up too. It was about 3 am. I went in changed my daughter’s diaper, tucked her back in, kissed her. Of course, she started to scream at me. I told her sternly to “go to sleep,” and I closed the door. My mom was standing in the dark hallway as I turned around, she scared the shit out of me.

She asked me what was wrong, I told her, “I don’t really give a fuck, nothing is wrong this is just what happens. My life is miserable. Kill me in my sleep PLEASE.” She starts lecturing me, “She is just a baby, this is normal, all parents go through this, you cannot HATE your child.” Wow, she acted like, I was going to hurt my kid because I am so frustrated. She always acts like that, like I am this horrible monster for the feelings I have, feelings of exhaustion, feelings of frustration, even anger.

I finally looked at her and said, “did you see what I DID? I went in, loved her, changed her tucked her in….. I didn’t scream at her or hurt her or get angry with her…. I came out HERE to bitch about it, be angry, and blow off steam! I don’t know what else to do. It’s not the behavior. If it were once in a while, it would be no big deal. It’s the NEVER STOPPING. The constant, without a break! When we were kids you would scream like a psycho, hit us, throw things at us. I don’t do that. Yes, I am over the top with my feelings at the moment….. it’s because I never get a break, and it’s HARD!!!! But, any parent would feel the same way!”

I didn’t believe myself though. I feel horrible today. “Am I a bad mom? Would I snap, and act like my mom did, if I get angry enough? Am I at a breaking point? Can I trust myself?” Then I got scared.

What if my mom is right? What am I going to do? How can I trust myself to care for my children. My thoughts of anger have gotten away with me.

I’ve read, invasive thoughts are symptoms of postpartum depression and anxiety. Scary thoughts pop into your head. And then, you obsess over them. The more you obsess and freak out, the stronger they become. I have read that invasive thoughts are not an indication of action, and do not mean the person does or will ever act on them. It doesn’t matter. I try to tell myself this over and over, but the fear takes over me.

I love my children with all of my being. I want to see them grow and prosper and become amazing. The guilt of having postpartum depression and tryin to be a good mom is overwhelming. I have an internal battle all the time.

Sometimes, I hate being a mom, but, at the same time, I love them so much. How do other women handle this so well? How come I am so weak. How can I snap out of this? I feel desperate. I want to shake myself and FIX IT. I am wasting the beautiful time I have with my babies while they are young. They are only little once, and then it’s gone. And, what have I done? I have wasted it being angry and resentful and exhausted and “surviving.”

How will they remember me? Will they feel I didn’t want them, didn’t love them? Will they think what an awful mom I was, and how they deserved better? How they deserved someone more loving, or more stable? Will they even know I ever struggled? Will they only remember my love, the time we spend doing special things and cuddling?

Does my daughter look into my eyes and see what I am feeling about dealing with her behaviors? Does she feel unloved, unwanted? I try to hide it, because I want her to feel loved, and precious, and that her mommy thinks she is the princess of this world, that she can do and be anything, and that I am her biggest fan. I feel like I fail. I let my emotions leak out too often, and it’s more and more as time goes on. The calm happy sweet mommy is less and the angry frustrated short tempered mommy is more.

Does the baby neglected? Does he get enough love and attention?

I feel like I am always trying to keep them busy. “Leave me alone for five minutes.” It’s never really successful trying to keep them busy so I can take a five min break. So, it’s like I am in this constant state of trying to get them to leave me alone, maybe?

Do they feel that? Do they feel unwanted?

I hate myself.

 

I think about killing myself

I would never ever actually do it. But, daily, almost, the thought pops into my head. Is this life really THAT bad?

My 2.5 year old is the strongest person I know. Since giving birth to her, I don’t even recognize the person in the mirror. I used to look much youger than my age. Today, I feel and look like shit, I have aged at least a decade. Almost, from the time her feet hit the floor till I have fought with her to go to bed (sometimes for hours)…. Life is a series of endless battles. I mean literally EVERY-FUCKING-THING is a fight.

I try so hard to be a good mom. I try to be creative, take her places, do special things, teach her, spend time playing with her. She is amazing. She is gifted. She met ALL criteria for being gifted (except reading) by 18 months. These criteria are for FOUR year olds.

I read in some of my research, the number one thing parents of gifted children say is, “They are exhausted!”

I am exhausted. Everyday. We moved into a new house five days before I went I to labor with her. Then, 3 times since. We are again in a place where I have no family, friends, OR help. I don’t get a break.”Me time” is damn near impossible.

If both kids were like my son, I would probably be just fine.

I get so frustrated with the battles. My biggest fear is she will see the way I feel and it will hurt her self image, hurt her. My other biggest fear is snapping. My mom used to scream and freak out all the time. We felt hated almost. I am sure we were exhausting and frustrating too. I don’t want to scream, and flip out, and degrade my kids, or hurt their self image. I never used to yell, now I do sometimes. I lose my temper. I get angry.

What good does it do except to make me feel worse and her listen less?

In my head I know, she is 2.5. In my head I know, she isn’t doing this on purpose. In my head I know, it isn’t personal. It is really hard to believe it sometimes, though.

I come to tears nearly every day. It is just so fucking hard. Couple that with my trying to be a good mom and feeling like a complete failure, and you have a recipe for guilt.

I am home, all day every day. How women would give anything to be able to do that? How many women would be able to keep perfect organized schedules and time allotments? Perfect dinners? Give perfect attention to everything? I feel like I just waste every day trying to survive. Trying not to snap. Trying.

My sister, or BFF, or mom, or husband call me during the day. I always sound upset, exhausted, unhappy. THAT makes me feel like more of a piece of shit. I feel judged. I feel helpless. I feel like I just want someone to hear me. TO UNDERSTAND. To help me. But, I am just embarrassed when I break down. I feel worse. I feel weak. I feel like everyone is looking at me like I am pathetic….. “You only have two kids? Is it really that hard? What’s going on?”

Is there something wrong with me? Why can’t I handle this? Why do I feel like my life has been hijacked? I open my eyes feeling miserable. Then, guilty for feeling this way, Which just leads to more self loathing.

But, here I go, onward with another day. My mind hanging on by a thread. I will just keep trying.