I am an over-thinker. I overthink about everything, and nothing at all. I always saw that as a negative, but it was recently pointed out to me that my writing would not be what it is without that part of my brain functioning as such.

Since the day I fell pregnant, I have doubted myself. I often lose sight of the strength Bear has bought into my life, and the way he has affected me both as a woman and as a mother. Sometimes I look at him and I could not feel more accomplished, and others (as much as it shames me to type these words) I look at him and question if I’m really cut out for this. I question if I’m doing right by him, I question if I can cope, and I question if I will ever live up to my own expectations as the mother I so desperately want to be.

Generally Bear is exceptionally well behaved, with the exception of a few tears or tantrums when he’s tired. He mostly listens when I tell him no, he doesn’t run off in public, and he’s a very sociable child whilst still being shy. I have been beyond blessed with this boy who was undoubtedly my saving grace in the darkest point of my life so far. He’s happy almost always, he’s loving and affectionate and funny.

But sometimes, I just can’t stand how unintentionally rough he is. Going from the kind of background I have had, being grabbed at and poked and prodded completely overwhelms me to the point where I start to feel trapped and angry. Yesterday was one of those days. Usually I can do things to distract both him and myself from being touched like that, yesterday was not one of those days. After being head-butted numerous times, having cars and building blocks thrown at my face and having my hair incessantly pulled at I was close to losing it. I locked myself in the bathroom and sobbed listening to him crying outside the door trying to get to me.

I’m currently studying in the hopes of becoming an English teacher, something I thought I had my heart set on. But after researching the pros and cons of that career, I have doubts—I want a career but not something that will consume me, or distract from my priorities as a mother. I have so many fears for the future and I am absolutely terrified by the enormous possibilities it holds. Can I teach and still have quality time to parent, or to do things independently and just for myself?

I have no idea what I want for my future anymore and I feel overwhelmed. I can’t work yet, and the only defining thing I have just for me is uni and an aspiring career I’m not all that sure of. I feel a frankly useless member of society.

I find it hard to settle my brain when I get like this and mostly I want to shun all responsibilities and hide away under the comfort and security of my bed. Most of all, I underestimate the importance of talking and I underestimate the importance of self care, and how vital both are to parenting effectively. I worry about putting my problems onto others and try to take on everything solo until I reach breaking point, but I am beyond lucky to have the friends and partner I do, who always encourage me to talk before I get to that point. I worry about feeling selfish and a bad mother for wanting and needing time to myself and to be me.

Written by Molly McMullan for her blog Life With Tristan.

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