Mommy’s Having a Meltdown

A few days ago I sat outside my house at midnight. In the gravel driveway. I was sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air to somehow calm my mind, heart, and body. “You’re ok. You’re ok” I kept whispering to myself as I tried to calm my tears. This isn’t a common scene at my house. It’s something I actively have to guard my heart against- these panic and anxiety attacks. Through medication, counseling, and time with the Lord, I am intentionally working daily to speak truth over these emotions that often try to overtake me.

Moments like this are extremely difficult for me to talk about. I feel vulnerable, weak, and silly sharing them at times, but I believe that being honest and open about our struggles can help others. I don’t have any words of wisdom. No quick fixes. No “8 Simple Steps for a Happier Mom.” I’m not looking for comfort… I’m just trying to let you know you’re not alone. Somehow there’s comfort in knowing that you’re not abnormal.

This particular night was the end to a very difficult week. All week, my two toddlers tried my patience. They were disobedient, loud, and impatient. They didn’t speak with kindness or treat each other- or me- with love. They were acting like toddlers. They were acting in the flesh. And I was exhausted- mentally, physically, and emotionally. After a struggle at dinner and bedtime and being told (several times) that I was a mean mommy and hated, I simply couldn’t handle it any more. I held it together at bedtime, staying firm and consistent, but as soon as I got downstairs, I broke. I felt inadequate and unloved. I was, in my mind, a failure as a mother. My four year old son, who is so intelligent, is very open about his behavior. He simply states that he disobeys because he wants to and its fun. (I mean, if we’re all honest, sin is fun a lot of the time.) And I think maybe that’s the hardest part about raising an intelligent child- knowing that they understand their actions, but simply continue anyways. My youngest, who is two, is just learning to test the boundaries- acting however she wants, regardless of what we say, to see how much she can get away with. Again, I know these things are all typical of kids their age, but it doesn’t make it any easier for a young mom. I had reached my breaking point. All of my insecurities were coming to their peak and feeling like I was failing my children was just too much to handle at that point. Looking back, I can see that it isn’t fair to me or them for me to place all of my worth on a 4 and 2 year old’s ability to obey in any given moment. But that’s a struggle I know many of you share with me.

In times like these, once I’ve had time to explode, cry out to God, and collect myself, I often find that doing something that speaks to my love language helps me. I’m a physical touch person with those close to me- so this particular night, I tiptoed up to my son’s room and cuddled with him for a short while. Studying his innocent, sleeping face, and recalling so many fun and enjoyable memories we’ve shared. Suddenly, all of the stress that felt like it was physically crushing my lungs moments ago was gone. It’s so crazy how our emotions can shift from moment to moment. My counselor tells me I’m highly emotive- each wave of emotion is extremely high or extremely low, not often landing in the middle. I’m beginning to learn this about myself- I knew I was emotional but I didn’t understand the impact it had on me. Motherhood does that- it teaches us more about ourselves than about our actual children, sometimes.

A few days later, I shared this story with a friend. I expected an “ohhhh I am so sorry!” in attempts to show pity or a slightly disturbed reaction, but I was met with overwhelming compassion and understanding. I even got to hear similar stories from her motherhood journey. It got me thinking about how God warns us about this very thing- the heart is deceitful. My heart, in that moment, was telling me so many lies- I’ve failed my children. I’m a terrible mother. My kids hate me. Lies that I know can recognize as untrue… but at that moment, they were lies that I chose to believe for a brief moment. They brought me to my knees in the middle of a gravel driveway. They sucked the air right out of my lungs and made my heart feel squeezed to its breaking point. But they were, in fact, lies.

Moms. Women. Parents. Teens. We have to stop believing the lies. We have to stop following our emotions moment by moment. In Christ, I am worthy, enough, and His beloved. He chose me to be the mother of these two amazing humans I get to share life with. He will equip me and use me, even when I feel like I’ve already failed. He will comfort me in the dark, dusty driveway when I’m at my lowest. He will rejoice with me when my children sing His praises before bed. He will guide me in making difficult decisions. And I can trust that no matter what I feel, He is a good, good Father that never leaves me.