Better...not Bitter.

I'm feeling better than I have felt in a very, very long time. 

I recently did a "self-check" and was very disappointed in several... SEVERAL areas in my life. 

The only person to blame was myself. 

Boo!  Hate it when that happens!!  You wouldn't believe how much I enjoy blaming others for my shortcomings.  It's fun ;)

I lose myself in our children.  Whatever I do is usually for them.  I say all the time "I'd die for my babies!!"  but when I looked at my behavior I had to ask myself if I was actually "living" for them. 

After we received the news on our sweet baby girl I found myself crying for HOURS and HOURS.  Non-stop tear festival.  If I wasn't crying I was moping. I put on a smile when facing the outside world...but I did as much as I could NOT to face the outside world.  My social anxiety went through the roof!  I used to be a social butterfly and I found myself avoiding any and all contact with the outside world.  No fun. 

Over the years I have turned into an OCD freak-a-zoid.  So much of our world is out of my control.  I can't control the state of my fertility...or lack of fertility.  I can't control the fact that we've had several miscarriages.  I can't control how long we get to keep or if we get to keep our foster babies.  So much of our world (and I'm sures your world as well) is so far out of my control that I often feel like I'm in a tornado trying to grasp onto something...ANYTHING.  Just trying to hold on.  So, in an effort to "manage" something I turned into an uptight "managing" nightmare.  This has been difficult for me to accept because I have always taken pride in my ability to "roll with the punches", and admired my laid back glass half full attitude. 

My control freak self quickly began to pick up on areas in which I could have sole control.  Our closets, the way the dishes are washed, how the floors are cleaned, what type of clothing my children wear, how our towels are folded, and any other aspect of how our house runs. 

Don't cook for me, because if I cook I get to control every element of the meal. 
Don't wash my dishes because I have a tried and true method in which I clean bottles.  I'd hate for you to do it wrong.
Don't fold my laundry, you don't know how I like it done. 

Wanna know something?  When I was growing up that is the one thing I wanted to change about my grandmother.  She accidently hurt my feelings because when I'd offer to help I quickly learned whatever I did would never be good enough.  I certainly do not set out to hurt my children's feelings when they offer to help, and I know Ma didn't mean to either.  But it still comes across incredibly hateful.  I'm not OK with that. 

Then came the anxiety attacks.  Fierce and often.  Some days it felt like I was going to die of a heart attack.  Turns out my ticker is ticking just fine...but my anxiety is out of control. 

It was time to step up and become accountable for how I was choosing to live my life.  I was no longer the care free fun girl my husband married.  I missed her.  Although he never ever said it and has been the most supportive person imaginable I know he missed her too.  I'm not silly enough to think I'll ever return to exactly who I used to be, and that doesn't need to be my goal.  I've lived a lot since then, my heart has gone through a lot since then, and I want those experiences to BETTER me, not BITTER me.

So, I'm taking steps toward getting better.  I started seeing a therapist, and along with medication I am feeling MUCH better.  Am I an advocate for medication?  No.  But it was the right decision for me.  I refuse to feel guilty about that.  I own it, I've accepted it, and I'm a much easier person to be around now.  It doesn't make me weak.  I used to think that is what taking medication would equate too.  I thought I should be able to shoulder EVERYTHING.  Shut up and take it outside.  That was my mentality.  I crashed and burned because of that mindset. 

So, here I am.  Being painfully transparent.  These are areas of my life I'd rather keep under wraps but I know that if I have struggled with these feelings than their may be others out there who have struggled with this too.  At the end of the day I want other mamma's out there to know that help is available.  You are fixable...but you must be flexible. 

Do I believe I've been healed?  Nope.  I'm a work in progress.  I'll have good days and I'll have bad days but the bad days don't have to be so frequent anymore.
Do I attribute medication to all the positive changes that have taken place?  No.  God is my deliverer and ever present help in times of trouble. 
Do I believe I had to be humbled and finally come to grips with the fact that I no longer could handle all that my life includes?  Yes. 

I want to be the best wife, the best mother, and the best ME I can possibly be.  I can finally say that I'm taking steps to being a better me.  Not a bitter me.