My blog has become all but a graveyard. Yes, I'm keenly aware of this.
I am wallowing in my abyss once more. The abyss where the stench of depression is cloyingly and sickeningly sweet.
The timing of all of this could not be worse as, with my therapist and husband's encouragement, we've withdrawn the Little Imp from full-time Montessori and she will only be attending two days a week now. The thought process behind this decision was mostly because I missed her tremendously and that by spending more time with her during the week, it would prevent this backward slide into the sticky mud of the hole I've been trying to dig myself out of for more than 18 months.
How can I be everything I am supposed to be to her when I can't even take proper care of myself?
I want to be the kind of mommy that she loves staying home with. Yet I feel, deep in my bones, that she'd rather be around children her own age and teachers who are happy and interact with her the entire time she's there, rather than a mother who is uncomfortable in her own skin and not sure how to make sure her child is happy when she herself doesn't know how to reign in some of that happiness and call it her own.
I find it ironic that there is so much chatter throughout Bloggywood about being a "bad mother" and how it's trendy and akin to being a "good mother" when right now, my motherhood epitomizes the term "bad mother." I don't long to be a perfect mother or call myself a bad mother because it's the thing to be. I'd settle for just being present, and happy and to feel worthy of being the Little Imp's mommy.
