Ramblings of an intoxicated mom
How do you grapple with trying to be an artist but it feels like everything in life is telling you that’s not worth it and that you should try to do something else meaningful for humanity and your community? How do you grapple with the fact that you feel like you’re a failure to your family and that you can’t provide anything other than comfort for your friends and family? How do you grapple with the fact that you fill a societal role that is so stereotypical 1950s housewife while having aspirations of your own? These are things I struggle with and that I don’t know how to wrap my head around and that I wanna be present for my family, but I also want to be present for myself. I don’t know how to chase my dreams and not feel like I’m failing another ways in my life. I have this unending need to be creative and it fills every section of my life, and I don’t know how to fulfill it without letting something else fall through the cracks.
As I dictate this post to my phone, I am actively very drunk and making waffles so that my children have something to eat in the morning when their father feeds them and I get to sleep in. The amount of guilt I feel about sleeping in is so immense, and I feel judged every time my husband brings it up even though I intentionally front load a lot of the morning work on myself in the evening so that he doesn’t have to worry about it. In the off times when our oldest wakes up early, I’ll get up with him so that my husband can sleep in. When the baby needed food in the middle of the night, I would do that so that he didn’t have to worry about it before 2 AM. I took the night shift. He always took the morning shift.
I love my life. I wanna reiterate this. I LOVE MY LIFE. I love my family. I have brought two beautiful, intelligent, strong creative, did I mention beautiful, honestly great kids into the world. I know they are going to be amazing humans and all I can hope is that my mental struggles and my inability to trust my instincts will not rub off on them. My eldest is such an empath anytime I cry he’s like “mommy can I get you a tissue mommy? Do you wanna hug mommy? Can I get you water?” He shouldn’t have to do that. He’s literally 4 1/2. He hasn’t even hit kindergarten yet but he understands the world around him and he’s so smart and he knows that his mom is broken and he just wants to fix her. It sucks being a parent that is so broken that I don’t know how to fix myself.
