My children just snuck into my office and apologized for jumping on their beds. See, I'm in here sobbing after I shouted at them and slammed the door and they think it's their fault. I asked them to stop jumping on their beds and they ignored me. Then I raised my voice. Then I shouted as loud as I could. Then I gave up, told them to do whatever they wanted and slammed the door. This is not the reaction of a mother who has it together. This is the reaction of someone who is still broken, still marred by depression. They think it's their fault.
I was short with them all day, all week really. It's like I don't know what to do with myself if they won't listen the first time. I used to be patient and creative. I used to talk to them until I was sure they heard me. Now I scream thinking that the neighbors must be hearing me too.
I want to be better so badly. That's why I'm crying. It's not because I yelled once. It's not even because I yelled all day. It's because I don't want them to remember this version of me as who their mom is. I don't want this to be who I am.