It all intensified the week my toddler decided to stop napping. Those once peaceful three-hour breaks evaporated, much like a mirage, leaving me without my vital moments of silence and solitude. I anticipated this change, but I didn’t realize the ripple effects it would have on my mental state until it became a reality.
I was too exhausted to even shed a tear.
Isn’t depression just anger turned inward? I can certainly relate, and if you’re feeling the same, I understand. When frustration hits, it’s hard to cope because there’s always someone who appears to have it tougher. In these moments, my anger weighs down on me like a heavy burden, while my guilt stifles any cries for help.
“You don’t deserve to feel this way,” my guilt whispers. “Others have it far worse.”
So my 2-year-old stopped napping—big deal, right? Some moms don’t even get the luxury of being home during their toddlers’ nap times. I’m a stay-at-home mom, yet I still find myself in a downward spiral. I’m not sleeping well at night either, thanks to my teething baby and my daughter’s fears of the dark, or her insistence that breakfast must happen at 4 a.m. My body feels drained, and by the time nap rolls around, my eyes are heavy with fatigue.
I wish I could be like those inspiring entrepreneurs who claim success stories began with early mornings spent chasing dreams. Sadly, that’s just not my reality. This feeling of failure creeps in, making me question my ability to manage my own life. And so, I internalize my anger.
The house is in a constant state of chaos. I long for my husband to pitch in with cooking and cleaning, but he works tirelessly to provide for us and returns home utterly spent. He handles everything from the cars to the trash, all without complaint. This makes me feel guilty for being mad at him when he misses precious moments with our kids due to work; so I bottle up my feelings.
I crave some time to myself each day, so I resort to turning on the TV for the kids or setting up a game. I sit down at my desk for just a few minutes, only to be interrupted by little ones crawling into my lap, desperate for attention, or squabbling when boredom sets in. It frustrates me that my husband gets to unwind after work while I juggle entertaining the kids, but I can’t help but feel selfish for wanting my own space, especially when I know many friends are single parents. Again, I swallow my anger.
I often think about my friends without kids who can easily hop in their cars for a quiet evening at a coffee shop or a spontaneous outing. They can just grab their coats and head out. I dream of those carefree days.
With two kids under three, heading out for a simple outing involves a lengthy process: changing diapers, putting on shoes, coats, and hats; packing a bag with snacks, drinks, and extra outfits; getting myself dressed; wrestling each child into car seats; and inevitably making a trip back inside for something I forgot. Once we finally arrive at our destination, I need to unload the kids and chat with the sitter before I can enjoy a moment of peace. The entire ordeal takes at least an hour longer than it would without kids.
I often find myself reflecting on my friends who can’t have kids or who are single. My longing for a quiet corner with a book seems petty in comparison. Where does my anger go? You guessed it.
I wouldn’t label myself clinically depressed—not yet anyway. I’m slowly finding ways to express my guilty frustrations. I’ve started to communicate my needs to my husband instead of merely enduring my feelings with a forced smile. For instance, I first shared this article with him. After a particularly exhausting day, I found myself sitting on the bathroom floor, pouring my heart out through my phone. When I finished, I handed it to him, holding my breath as he read. He pulled me into a comforting embrace and thanked me for being open with him.
I’m still navigating this challenging journey. That’s why I empathize with so many moms who find themselves teetering on the edge of depression. When mothers talk about the rejuvenating power of a hot shower or how coffee serves as their lifeline, they genuinely mean it. Parenting is a beautiful yet demanding adventure.
Moms don’t always require grand gestures or elaborate gifts; sometimes, it’s the little things that matter. A simple getaway in the car without kids, a few quiet mornings to oneself each month, or even a hot meal served in disposable dishes to minimize cleanup can make a world of difference.
Reach out to a mom in your life today. Send her a text, email, or even a handwritten note (yes, snail mail!). Let her know she’s doing an incredible job. If she brushes you off, offer to bring her a milkshake—nothing says “you’re awesome” quite like that!
For more insights on the challenges of motherhood, check out this post on our blog.
Summary:
Being a stay-at-home mom can lead to feelings of isolation and frustration, especially when basic routines change dramatically, such as a toddler giving up naps. The struggle between wanting personal space and feeling guilty for those desires is common. It’s essential for mothers to communicate their feelings and needs to their partners and seek small moments of self-care amidst the chaos of parenting. Simple gestures of kindness from friends can also provide much-needed support.
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