Sometimes self-help books don't cut it.
Michelle Kemper Brownlow: I was "that mom." The one you can't decide if you want as your BFF because she knows how to do everything or the one you hate because you will never measure up. I didn't consider myself "that mom," but everyone around me did. I never had to worry about temper tantrums -- and I could take them anywhere. I had the patience of a saint. I used to teach high school, so patience was more than a virtue, it was a survival tactic. I could handle anything ...
... And then my foot went through a hollow core door. My third child is a challenge like none I have ever known. We made it through the terrible twos, but when he reached 3 ½ and they weren't over, I found myself reaching levels of frustration I can honestly say I had never felt, over anything.
There were days when the smallest irritant -- someone slurping their popsicle or crunching on ice -- would send me over the edge. I am a pacifist, so nothing ever got physical (unless you were a door) but my skin would crawl. I started reaching levels of anger that made me uncomfortable. Over a popsicle? This was not me. I needed help.
I explained to my doctor how I was feeling, and he diagnosed me with depression, anxiety, and fatigue. He said dealing with a special needs child was apparently more than I could handle alone. He prescribed a low dose antidepressant and said, "This should help take the edge off." Now, I'm "that mom" again.
Talk to your doctor if you are experiencing signs of anger, depression, or anxiety. Medication may be an option. I used to think I'd be ashamed if I "gave in" to meds. My kids are so glad that is no longer the case!
|Michelle Kemper Brownlow is a freelance parenting writer, artist and popular mommy blogger who holds nothing back at My Semblance of Sanity. Michelle's unique but gentle parenting insight paired with her quirky sense of humor works to her benefit as she writes and illustrates children's picture books.|