Days like this

I have been an irritable, grumpy person lately.

Life has been stressful, for no really great reasons.

My anxiety has felt okay.

It’s just that melancholy creeps in.

Some days? It overtakes me.

The last few days have been that way. I have felt like crying for no real reason. Silly things–like being told that my new puppy is too shy.

Summer can be rough. The kids are always home. The husband is always home. I am always home.

The kids are fighting. The husband is nagging–asking the kids to stop, repeatedly, but never telling them to stop. The house is loud…all the time.

I can zone a lot of it out. But sometimes, the constant chatter, the constant bickering, can just be too much.

Marriage is hard. My marriage is still in a spot where it seems to always be. Lack of affection. Very little conversation with each other. Loneliness.

There are so many days where I wonder, Could it be different? Do I deserve something different?

The truth is…I desire it to be different. I just want to feel loved. I want to be held. I want to have really good sex. And…I just don’t think it is unfair to want those things; nor, do I feel that it is unrealistic. I want my husband to want these things.

Because I feel unhappy at home, I often leave. I find other things to do.

People make me happy. I love spending time with someone. Talking. Laughing. Doing nothing, really…just being with someone who recognizes my existence.

It re-energizes me.

I decided, a while ago, that if my husband decides he can’t enjoy something–traveling, nights out, dinner with friends…rather than simply sitting at home and feeling deprived, or forcing him to go and making him unhappy, I would just do it on my own.

I’ve taken trips. Gone places. Made my own friendships. Found my own community.

As me.

Yet, there is, to me, a certain sadness in this lifestyle, for two reasons.

The first? I want to do things with the person I love. I want to travel. And I want him to have fun and enjoy it. I want to have people over to the house for dinner, and I want him to socialize and like meeting new people.

It is hard to do it alone.

The second…I feel guilty.

I feel selfish. I have taken my kids with me on trips. But, often, since my husband is home and happy to be there, I leave the kids while I go for a visit to a friend’s house. Out for a girls’ night. On a run.

These things, really…they are self care. I am doing them for me.

But, I still feel selfish most of the time.

I see how great of a father my husband is.

He is. He plays so well with the children. He loves them. Yes, he gets frustrated. He lacks discipline. He is chronically stressed out.

But he also knows how to spend quality time with them.

Sometimes, I fear that, in my quest to grow stronger and braver…to fight my way through all of the trauma and anxiety, I have neglected the kids. I have focused too much on myself.

This causes greater worries. Greater fears. Will they hate me? Will the look back and see what a bad mother I am? How selfish I am?

And so, I have days like the past few…days where I feel grumpy. Exhausted. Sad. Tearful.

Days where I just want to lay around and read a book, and focus on no one else.

Days that amplify my inability to leave myself and join my kids on the floor to play. To truly connect and pay attention.

Motherhood is hard.