This. This is my house.
Too much screen time.
Too many messes.
Overflowing dishes and dirty counters.
This is a house of a mom who struggles with depression.
Maybe it’s a house of a mom without depression too. I wouldn’t really know because it seems everyone’s house is always clean when we are invited.
But the depression tells me lies. It tells I’m the only one and shames me into believing I’m a bad mom.
So here I hide. Extremely lonely but terrified to admit I struggle to be a good mom most days and I struggle to keep up with the emotional weight of it all.
Because didn’t society tell us…
Strong girls don’t cry. Good moms don’t have messy houses and always want to play with their kids. Good girls pretend they have it all together.
And doesn’t IG just show us the highlights of how beautiful and wonderful every goddamn moment of everyone else’s life is?
Depression sucks. But depression as a mom is hard AF.
It’s like an out of body experience, watching yourself fail, to be present, to be calm, to be fun, to keep up, but literally being helpless to move.
It’s being overwhelmed by the smallest of tasks like the dishes and the countertops. It’s walking in circles looking at all the messes and simply trying not to cry.
Depression is wanting to hide and scream and never get out of bed. It’s guilt. So much guilt. Because you’re doing it all wrong, but it’s a downward rollercoaster and impossible to jump off.
It’s being so incredibly lonely but not having the energy to make plans and contribute socially.
It’s wondering if everyone hates you and only invited you because they HAVE to. It’s intrusive thoughts telling you all the bad things people say about you.
Depression is wondering what the purpose of it all even is and if your people would just be better off without you.
It’s crawling out of your skin and hating everything about who you are. Feeling trapped and paralyzed and like nothing will ever be right again.
I’m not really sure what the point of sharing this is - but just to say not all depression is apparent from the outside. Some of us struggle behind closed doors - hiding messes and tears. Feeling isolated but unsure if it’s even safe to be honest with those around us.
Motherhood is isolating.
Depression is isolating.
And sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to suffer it alone.