Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Clonazepam Makes Me a Better Mom (Because Parenting + Anxiety Sucks)


Lately I've been feeling like I have to begin each day reminding myself not to blow my top at my children.

Mostly because sometimes it seems like they don't appreciate anything. Like, aaaaaaaanything. I know this is some parental-level cliched shit right here but would it be too much to ask to have them acknowledge that I clean up after them and that life's little treats are in fact treats and not life sustaining must-haves.

Like today on a hot summer day when I went out of my way to get lemonade and a box of the sort of popsicles P. actually likes because, hey, it's summertime and popsicles are nice, I didn't get so much as a thanks (until I got mad).

And then when H. heard there was lemonade he must have made some kind of assumption about it being a single-serving bottle because went off on a whine-fest about how I didn't buy him anything.

My bad mom response was to look him right in the eye and holler, "I got you LEMONADE!"

Not my finest moment, but hey, most of us have been there, right?

(Before you ask, yes, they have daily chores they do around the house and no they don't get a lot of toys or big ticket treats. I can only imagine how spoiled they be if that was the case given how spoiled they seem to be lately!)

Lately I have also been trying and failing to calm the frig down because I really don't want to reinforce my children's let's-yell-about-it habit by doing a lot of yelling myself. Truthfully, grownup yelling actually scares the shit out of me as an adult on some visceral level so I can only imagine how terrifying it is for my kids to see my grown-ass adult self raging. 



But damn, it is hard when they have come to expect daily summer treats and for me to just clean up everything up all the time. And it's even harder when I'm incredibly stressed out about my career and our finances and how I can't shake the feeling that at 37 years old I ought to have been farther along in my life than this.

I find myself battling anxiety on an almost daily basis now when it used to be an occasional thing that would appear out of the blue. I'm experiencing it every day and I can pretty much pinpoint the circumstances behind it. And I am finding that parenting with anxiety... sucks big time.

When the whining and the bickering starts and I'm already halfway to losing my bananas because I am feeling insecure about money and my place in the world, it is just plain impossible to access that part of myself that knows kids are gonna be kids and that fighting during long summer days is just one of the varied and colorful ways siblings relate to one another. When I'm feeling at my lowest, my tendency is to blow my top.

And so this is when I say don't judge the Clonazepam I very occasionally take at a dosage that my doctor joked was one step up from licking the pill and putting it back in the bottle. I really rhink it makes me a better mom. 

Now one more thing... with the prospect of preschool for Bo on the horizon I'm starting to finally understand why some moms and dads are like "Hell yes, the first day of school is almost here!" the second August first rolls around. Sorry, kids, but I get the feeling that a few uninterrupted work days each week are going to feel like therapy!



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1 comment:

  1. Parenting and anxiety go together. Anybody who tells you different is lying or is a crappy parent. It also doesn't go away just because your children are grown. So do what you need to do so you don't blow your top or go off the rails.

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