Everyone have disappointment’s. These could be from ourselves, others, relationships or circumstances.We always blame something or other for our woe’s. In my case I mostly find someone to blame (note It’s never myself I put the blame on), and for me it works as putting the blame on others, thus making yourself look clean is therapeutic. I love blaming my parents, friends, relatives, husband (My favorite) and now I have even started blaming my little ones(Oops). Yes, my little ones, my kids. I blame them for mess my house is, the mess I look and wear all day, the mess my career is in (obviously blaming in my mind only). Maybe few of you would agree with me (I am desperately praying for that) but mostly will not (show me your feat’s, I need to pinch you to bring you back to senses) and seriously If you are not doing that (playing the blame game) then please try it. It promotes healing.
All of us are trying to give our best in life, but we all know GOD has his\her own way of appreciating. Sometime our hard work, tears and sacrifices are simply wasted, and at times we are rewarded in spite of zero or mediocre efforts. The most taxing are the times when in spite of trying our best, things doesn’t work out. We feel depressed. Depression is something that each one of us has experienced at some point (rather many times) of life. Recently I was plagued by feeling of worthlessness. Years of child rearing did that to me. As parenting, is very lonely thing. It brings so many challenges, that it often makes one feel incompetent as a person. This brings depression, which needs to be vented in order to give our best to the most important duty God has bestowed on us, parenting. So please fight for yourself. You will do good only when you start doing good to yourself. Stop saying “I am OK” when you are not. Bring everything out. Even if you need to confront someone or raise controversial issues, do that. Try to put your point forward, even play the blame game if needed. Tell that you want, what you want. Don’t think you are being demanding as mostly what one needs is attention, appreciation and love.
In the end you might find how childish you were but this realization will only happen, once you take it out. If while taking out your frustration you have hurt someone then a sincere apology is needed
Here is a poem which I wrote recently
A poem from the darkest corner.
When I need you the most, you choose to make me a distraction.
When I need your support, you choose to give me an empty advice.
When I need to be heard, you choose to interrupt.
When I need you to love me, you choose to teach me the norms.
When I need to be understood, you choose to ridicule and bully.
When I need to be praised, you choose to show me my incompetence.
The doubt that you raised, bit me hard
Now I am not what I was.
Now you say that it was unintentional, that you didn’t meant it.
Now when you miss the love that you never did.
Now when you repulse what you invested.
Now when you know, how I felt.
Let’s talk, let’s heal, let’s love.
Together and Forever.
This is a poem which might not be good literally, but it goes well with the rhythm of my heart. I found it very saddening, that we often ignore the fact that the very same thing we want or need to remain human and sane, the love, respect and understanding we often crave for, is the same thing we are not giving even to our most important relationships.
Here is a short prayer which me as a parent love to repeat to myself again and again.
I pray to GOD every-day to give me the strength, to acknowledge the follies I make daily as a parent and the will (armed with the skill), to rectify it the next morning.
I wish to show my utmost respect to the little possibilities lying on bed with me, whom I proudly call my kids.
I wish to always remember that “My kid” is a lot more than that, SHE is the world to me but one day she will make a world of her own.
I wish to not tamper what God had already made her/him “An individual”.
I try hard not to infuse me in you.
I am like you, a mother who choose to be a better mother with each passing day.