When I thought I had it under control

I'm a mom, I've got this stuff under control. I mean, after all, I've been doing this for almost six years.

Yet Monday night I suffered my very first panic attack. At first I thought I was having an asthma attack, but wait, I don't have asthma.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't catch my breath. My blood pressure was through the roof, my pulse was high. My husband took me to the hospital as I admitted defeat. 

They treated me and I came home. The next day I still hadn't fully recovered. I felt like any moment I might break down.

Now I was feeling guilty AND like a failure.  But I kept going. I don't know what scared me the most. I don't know why I in that moment could no longer handle the burdens on my shoulders.

And then and there I realized it was time. Time to explain to everyone that I just could no longer maintain status quo. 

No, I do not require you to interrogate me about my parenting decisions.

No, I do not require you to sympathize with my anxiety of sending my middle child to school.

In addition, no, I do not think you have the right to tell me how I should feel.

No, you have no right to tell me to get over it. 

You certainly can't understand that this is not the only thing going on in my life. I carry many secrets, many burdens, many stresses. They intertwine, they affect one another. You can't see them or hear them. I maintain a well made mask in front of many many people. 

On Monday night, I admitted defeat, I picked myself up and I said "no more", I will not let the stresses and burdens of life ruin mine. Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not anywhere into the future. 

Failure, is not an option.

XX

The Guilty Mom