Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m being torn apart by two massive parts of my current life: how happy I am about being a mom and how scared I am. What I’m going through right now is the happiest and most difficult period in my life at the same time (at least so far)- and I’ve been admitted to institutions for mentally sick people eight times after almost dying because of my disorders. So saying this is the most difficult time really means something. It’s like the fears are a big creepy monster sitting in the corner, continously growing, terrifying me, while the joy (because this is also the best time of my life) is there like a bright light trying to defeat the huge monster- but the monster won’t let it. (Damn, while reading this I realize how incredibly stupid I sound..)
The fears I’m talking about are still the same I mentioned in my last post. Failure. I’m more scared than I could have ever imagined to be of failing as a mother, student, daugther and person. Those fears are so intense that I had a mental breakdown yesterday after studying. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s the sad truth. It’s tearing me apart and I don’t know what to do about it. Skills, positive activities and motivation boxes won’t help me with this problem. Holy crap, I need my therapist again. And I thought I’d be through with that. Unbelievable. My son is the very best thing that could have ever happened to me, I’m so happy and then there is this stupid fear destroying half of the happy moments I’ve worked so hard for. If there is a god, he’s an asshole.