They are huge mountains.  Am I the only one that can see that?

Okay, so we are at dinner and all of a sudden I realize that I just can’t stand another minute of it.  The kids (I have three) are being kids and I can’t stand it.  My husband is short tempered because of the kids being kids and I just want to read my book.  I brought the book to the restaurant because I knew that I would explode if I didn’t have an outlet.  Except the outlet didn’t work since the kids wouldn’t let me read. 

I want to be a good mom.  No, scratch that.  I want to be a great mom.  And it is coming so hard to me right now.  My daughter wanted to have her friend over after school so I said yes, but really I should have said no.  How do I say to my kids, “Mom has bipolar and so she can’t take care of you much less other kids too.  Mom is hanging on by a thin thread right now.  So everyone go be quiet somewhere for a while so Mom can hold it together.”

Okay, see, you can’t say that to a three year old.  That is for sure.  All he knows is that he wants me 24/7.  And he is bewildered when I reject him in any way.  He wants me to hold him and read to him and snuggle him and take care of him.  More than that, he wants me to tolerate his disobedience, him hitting me, him not listening to a word I say.  He wants me to never raise my voice, never crack under the pressure.

I have written about it before on here and I will write it again – being a parent with bipolar is awful.  All I want is to be someone that they feel safe with.  And for the most part I pull it off.  But it takes almost more than I have to give.

When I was growing up my mom had bipolar disorder.  They didn’t call it that.  They probably said that she was high strung and controlling.  So she drank to keep it in check.  And she would lecture us and scream at us and call us nasty names and we were torn apart as kids.  The worst memories I have are of me being on time out in my room and her being in the kitchen, slamming a cupboard door over and over and screaming this shrill scream of despair and anger and shame.  It terrified me.  I didn’t know what to do except to try to shut down.

I am not that mom.  I will not be that mom.  I am the loving kind gentle mom that I wanted to be.  Except that it is never enough really.  Because I can’t be the good mom 100% of the time.  Sometimes I am a person with bipolar disorder and I am weak and trembling and sad.  Those times are when I see my kids shut down and pull away.

I pray every night that they don’t “come down” with bipolar too.