Recently, one of my favorite people in the world, Dana, posted a Desperate Housewives clip on her blog. (You can see that post HERE.) This is no way an attempt to start a debate over Desperate Housewives. I've never watched a single episode, but not because I have a problem with the show... Like I said, I've NEVER seen it, so I can't have a problem with it. I'm just more of a TLC junkie. That's totally not the point here. After I watched the clip Dana shared, I clicked on a few others. I sent Dana an e-mail immediately and said, "I get what you're saying, but honestly, right now, I relate more to this...." (You may want to wait and watch this when your kids aren't around.)
I nervously shared the clip with three more of my best friends. The thing is, I'm not truly suicidal, so no worries. But neither is she. That's the point. I'm so overwhelmed at times, I daydream about being somewhere-- make that, anywhere else.
I wasn't sure if my girl friends would call Bert to have me committed, or agree that they too feel trapped and like they're suffocating under a pile of laundry and crushed crackers. Immediately, they all responded along the lines of, "ME TOO."
While having a two hour discussion about this with one of my bff's, it dawned on me how much we DON'T talk about these issues. As mothers, and women in general, we tend to internalize the pain of life, putting on a super hero mask for the world to see. Yet, deep down, we just want to escape. Well, if you're anything like me, you do. And if you're not, good for you. If you've not yet experienced a moment like Lynette's, and you think I'm crazy, with a crazy bunch of gal pals, that's fine too. I'm just going to ask that you consider this my new friend filter.
Following my moments of insanity, I always feel like I've been dropped by a helicopter in an ocean of guilt. As I'm drowning in that guilt, I look at my children, who are healthy and happy. I also see my husband, who is a hard worker and able provider, even in this impossible economy. I then berate myself for having these weak moments. But, swimming in Guilt's Ocean only causes more problems... Guilt breeds insecurity. Insecurity breeds resentment. Resentment breeds anger. And anger starts the insanity cycle all over again.
I guess what I'm trying to say, (to those of you still reading, who haven't picked up the phone to call Bert and warn him of the ticking time bomb that awaits him) is that these feelings are normal. You're NOT crazy. Feeling trapped by your greatest of blessings does not make you World's Worst Mom. It's okay if you're not perfect. None of us are. Take a deep breath. Or fifty. Hug your best friend. Or your husband. And know this: you're a GOOD MOMMA. A REAL MOMMA. And your children would agree.
Love, Big Momma