The End of The Rope

I chose the title that I did for this blog because I feel like it's something of a moto for my life. No matter what point in my past I look at there was always something I just had to keep strong and get through. It's a very prominent part of my days lately. Keeping strong.

I've talked a little about how my husband works in the oilfield and so he is gone for weeks at a time. We never know when he leaves or when he comes home. It's kinda hectic. He has currently been gone for about six weeks. It's not as long as some guys stay out, but after 3 years of us being used to a fairly consistent 3-4 week rotation (unofficially), we are all running out of patience and I am trying to figure out just how long I can keep strong.

It's so hard some days. Stress. Everyone missing Austin. Gavin having some serious missing daddy issues. Clingieness. The whining, oh geeez the whining. And on top of it all I was sick the last two days and am finally coming around to feeling better. All of this stuff piled up on top of the normal craziness of life, it's just too much some days. Some days, like today, I feel like a complete failure as a mother. I'm trying so hard to be the mom my kids deserve while I deal with all of the above, all the while trying to fight off the demons ingrained in me that just want me to satisfy my urge to be angry. It's how when people say someone was "seeing red". It's like in that moment you just have such overwhelming anger. Even if you know rationally that whatever is upsetting you isn't worth the reaction, it's still so much work to fight those feelings. I know in the front of my mind that my children and their well being are always my priority that's why I am left completely depleted of energy and strength at the end of a day like today. It's hard enough to be a mom and take care of children night and day. It's a whole other story when you're trying to fight off your demons during it all.

This is why a part of me will always hate my father. Call it selfish. Call it placing the blame. Call it whatever you want but I will never be able to forgive him for not loving my siblings and I enough to be better to us. He didn't fight his demons that were placed in him as a kid. He gave in to them. He taught me how to be mad. Hateful. Mean. He didn't try to fight his urges to satisfy his anger, he just gave in to them. Often with one of us as the target for where he'd channel that anger. He didn't try to be better for me and he passed his demons on to me. I hate him now because it is a struggle constantly to be better for my kids. I have to love them enough to fight. I shouldn't have to, but that's what it is. I just want to do my best for them so that they never have to deal with this struggle between what is right and what is eating away inside of you to get out. I want to pass on my good qualities to them so I try so hard to keep this one to myself. But some days, like today, after so much yelling, and frustration, I feel like I failed.