Lately my OCD has taken a new turn in its ability to get at me. All the usual suspects remain, like harming thoughts, contamination, checking, hyperresponsibility, etc. However, the added bonus as of late is that my brain is obsessionally creating reasons for me to believe I am the world's worst mom. No matter what happens in a day, no matter what I do, I will continue, or rather my OCD brain will continue to come up with reasons that I suck at mothering.
Heck, just this morning, I was feeling good about my work as a stay-at-home mom. I had got my son through his super-poo diaper change and fed him a fairly good, balanced breakfast. We read a book, we played with puzzles, we read through my Parent's magazine together...but he is getting over a sinus infection and it was obvious he was not feeling too well. No matter what I tried, he seemed to just want to lay across the floor sucking his thumb. Or sit in my lap, resting his head on my chest. Finally, I put on his favorite TV show Spongebob. I felt awful sitting there holding him. Like I had given up as a parent. Like I was rotting my sons brain and because of me he would never learn things properly. Fearing I was doing irreparable harm via that square, yellow sponge dude. But I am not doing irreparable damage. He is fine. He is just dandy.
As well today, my son was having a very defiant day. A rough day for both of us. Maybe it was because he isn't feeling well, maybe my short patience was from arm pain, maybe we just hit a snag at the same time. But I know I snapped at him a few times and felt my blood boil a few other times. And then my old friend OCD jumped in and told me I was a horrid mother because of this. What kind of mother gets frustrated with their child if they really love them. What kind of mother would snap at her young toddler. I must be horrible, because I am not happy 100% of the time I am with my son. But I was able to brush past that eventually, as well. All the while rethinking and rethinking, as I do. And carrying out another handy compulsion of mine, confession.
Later in the evening, driving around with my hubby and son, finding a place to dine, my husband and I had discussions and even got in a small argument. At this point my brain became certain I was just the worst mother that could be because I had argued with my hubby in front of my son. I hadn't spent the entire ride smiling and talking to my son and husband, so I was awful. As we continued to drive, my mind continued its process of rethinking and rethinking every way that I have sucked as a mother in the last...well, the last whenever.
Oh my goodness, this disorder is such a tiring disaster. This little added on bonus of believing I am an awful mom does not ease the burden by any stretch of the imagination. Nope, it just exacerbates the rest of my symptoms. Today I am simply tired. That is all I am.
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