The quiet mouse

last night i texted my sister that I needed help. I was overwhelmed and everything hit me at once. I hadn’t felt like that in almost 16 years. A long time ago I dated a guy and almost married him. I went on a downward spiral into some deep dark depths of depression. I almost killed myself. I had it all planned out and I really was going to go through with it. But then I got a phone call and hung out with some pretty awesome people.

last night I felt that dark swirling depression creeping back. I am on anxiety and depression meds. I didn’t used to be on medication like this until I married my now husband. What set me off on feeling this way yesterday was being criticized by his mom.

Ya his mom. My mother in law is a nut job. I’m saying this out loud. She terrorized me over the car seats I chose for by children before they were born. She convinced her son, my husband that they weren’t going to be suitable enough for the girls when they were born. She thought that I hadn’t done my research about them. Instead he aligned with her and we sent them back. We ended up with used car seats and stroller from one of her church friends whose family member had had twins.

This women has bullied me from day one. I was on a week of vacation in July and she wanted me to send her pictures of the girls hair done up everyday so that she knew that I could do their hair. Seriously? I might be a farm kid who is a plain Jane but I know how to do my hair and I can more than do my own kids hair.

Back to the point. My sister got me a number to our local crisis center and I spoke to an amazing counselor who helped me through my breakdown. Being a mom is hard. Being a mom with people around you that don’t believe in you and those people don’t think you are capable is even harder.

What’s even harder for me is that I told my husband about the phone call. He didn’t say anything. There was no ” I’m glad you chose to get help.” ” I’m glad you’re sister helped you”.

Support? There’s really no support in this house.

Honestly I just want to sit and cry. Sometimes I do. Only when he’s not home. I struggle with wanted to be loved. I struggle with wether or not I’m good enough. I know I’m not. It’s been made plain by him and his mom.

I’ve been told through the years that I was raised wrong. I’ve been told I was backwards. I might not wear makeup. I might not have an interest in wearing brand name clothes. I might not get my mail done or spend oodles of money on my hair.

But I do know I am amazing. I handled overnights with twin babies.

I started my own business when I was told I couldn’t run a business out of my home.

I choose to be amazing. I choose to overcome the roadblocks in front of me.