Growing up, I always believed that my mom knew best. She was perfect, she didn't have any internal struggles, and she always had a smile on her face. While this was true to some extent, becoming a mother myself, I was able to see that this was far from the reality of what was really going on. On the outside, parents and adults may seem to have it all together, while on the inside, they are living a constant battle. I would have never believed that mature, confident adults could have doubts, anxiety, and low self-esteem, too
Struggling with anxiety and depression
I am a single mother of one adorable, wonderful, amazing little boy, and I also live with anxiety and depression.
As a parent, I feel like I need to have all the answers. I, like all parents out there, want the best for my child. But on days where it almost seems impossible to perform simple tasks like getting out of bed in the morning, or doing the laundry, it becomes very difficult to believe that what I'm doing is the best for him. Seeing a psychologist once a week was -- by far -- the best route for me to take, and I highly encourage all those who find themselves in a similar situation to do the same. I couldn't imagine living with my Mental Illnesses, being pregnant, and remaining sane at the same time. It meant so much to be able to talk to someone about my struggles. Of course, talking with your friends and family is important as well, but it gave me a sense of security and anonymity speaking to an unbiased professional.
Learning acceptance
Despite everything in the media that says that being imperfect is acceptable, I don't believe anyone actually feels that way. We still strive for perfection. I know that I am not perfect, nor do I go about my day attempting to be perfect. But in the back of my mind, I know that my expectations are not being met.
One thing I make sure to remind myself of every time I'm feeling doubtful and inadequate as a parent is that my son loves me. He doesn't have expectations for me. His unconditional love is what keeps me from running away or giving up. Early on in the pregnancy, I had many doubts. I was so sure that I could not be a mother -- certainly not with the way I lived my life at the time.
The best option at the time was to give the baby up for adoption because I thought he would be able to live a better life, with mother and father who were financially stable and would love him. But I was selfish. And from the moment I heard him cry for the first time, to when the nurse placed him in my arms against my bare skin, I let my tears fall silently with joy and love in my heart, because I knew that this was where he belonged -- with me.
