The American Dream

{I've delayed posting this for a few days in the hope that things would magically feel better. But they haven't. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I have to release this somehow. So forgive me. It's how I feel.}

 

I posted this picture to Facebook the other day and one of my friends commented that it looked like a scene straight out of "an American Dream" movie. I assume she meant the blonde-haired boy and lab puppy and not the piles of laundry and junk.

I laughed.

While it may appear to some that we're living "the American dream" I assure you, we aren't. At least not all the time. The past few days I've felt all chaos come to one big crashing halt. I warn you that this is not going to be one of those feel-good-I-love-being-a-wife/mother-type posts because we are one big happy, perfect family. To be quite blunt, I sometimes feel my blog is a lie to the outside world from what struggles I go through inside. Oh sure, there are plenty of fun times and running around crazy from one activity to the next because we choose to do so. But the past few days have been screaming in my face that something is wrong. Ironically, on General Conference weekend... again. Seems like every time it rolls around I'm a mess. And rather than feeling spiritually uplifted like so many of my fellow Mormons do during this time, I feel like a wilted, dying flower.

Pearl asked me what was wrong. I told her, "I'm not happy." I meant it to mean that I was crying because I was sad, but then I thought about it some more and it's true. I'm not happy. I feel totally alone. Really alone. Going through the motions of life because I have to get up when the kids want breakfast... I have to get them dressed and to school because that's what is expected... I have to go to work because we have bills to pay... I have to fix dinner, attempt to keep a somewhat clean house, do laundry, go grocery shopping, etc because that's part of the deal with being a mom... I have to take the dog on a walk because I don't want an out of control 100+ lb. dog controlling our lives and eating our house... all these things feel totally out of my control and yet, I have no choice but to keep doing them. Make any sense?

I know life is hard. I get that. I know I probably bring a lot of this on myself. I know people deal with serious trials, health problems, job losses, and far more life-threatening and heartbreaking situations than me. I feel totally selfish for complaining when I stop and think about what others go through.

But I feel totally lost. Completely empty. Emotionally exhausted. Alone. I have given up caring. It costs far too much emotional energy to keep trying and then get my heart crushed by those I love the most. Over and over and over again. And yet there's still a little part of me, the part that's just "me," that can't stop caring and holds on to the guilt of everything that I'm doing wrong or that's going wrong to completely not care.

I feel like everything I treasure most is crumbling. We fight. We yell. We cry. We don't speak kindly to each other. We don't communicate unless it's to yell and fight or discuss surface-level things. We have no patience. I feel like we all just "exist" here but there's not this deeper emotional connection I feel we need (and that I so desperately want). I know I have out-of-control emotions and ridiculous expectations of myself, my marriage, my kids, and my family sometimes but this has been boiling under the surface for a long time. It feels like we start doing better but it's just on the surface and no one wants or cares to want to fix what's broken underneath. There's an emptiness I feel and I don't know how to fix it. 

I am becoming a bitter, old woman. I have serious unresolved issues I've decided. Anger and hurt is always there under the surface and often comes out in the heat of battle with two children who have pushed me to my breaking point. I don't know how to tell people who have hurt me just that... I'm afraid of the consequences. But instead, I feel like I'm the one who is paying the price and to be quite honest, I'm not sure how much more I can take. I feel myself screaming inside to be heard and no one can or wants to listen. I keep thinking if I could just get the house clean - really clean - and if we could just get to work earlier (or even on time) and then leave earlier or if I could just get Blu to be good or if I could just save a little more money or if I could just be a better or if I could just..... blah, blah, blah then things would be better.  

I want to be happy. I want to fill fulfilled. I want my children to make good choices. I want to be a good mom. I want to have a closer relationship with my husband. I want to feel emotionally connected. I want to feel loved. I want to feel valued and listened to and important. I want a stronger testimony. I want to feel like "me" again. But I am completely overwhelmed. I have no idea where to start. And I have no idea if I've got what it takes to make it.