Am I a bad mom?

“Can we try again tomorrow?”. Those were the last words I said to Geof before we went to sleep. A few hours earlier I had another meltdown, and like always, he was the one who had to carry the burden of my rage. Thank God I didn’t hit him physically. But muttering words like:

• I’m too tired
• I’m not a good mom, you’re better off with your dad
• I want to give up

..is not healthy for a young child like him.

My Mood Swings’ Impact to his Mental Health

It’s not healthy. For a 9 year old to have a mom who’s diagnose with bipolar-2 and get swings of depression and rage every now and then. I try my best. I see my doctor regularly, I take my meds, but sometimes.. I just crash. Sometimes I’m too busy with work that I shrug him off and say “wait I’m busy , don’t bother me” then a few seconds later I feel guilty.

I don’t want to make any excuses but being a single working mom is just exhausting

Sometimes I just crash

I’m worried that he’ll grow up to be someone like me. Emotionally unstable. I am scared. He’s quick to forgive and the most understanding child one can ever have. Whenever I get the swings he’ll just say “Mommy I understand, I love you”

Not everyday is rainbows and butterflies

But until when? Until when can he understand having a dysfunctional mom like me? Sure most of the time we have our good days. Happy even. We go to adventures, play, and just have fun together. These are the photos that I post on social media. But until when? I’m now worrying the time he’ll reach puberty, adulthood, and one day he won’t understand his mom anymore.

He’s a child.

Am I a bad mother?

As I’m writing this, tears can’t help but fall down my cheeks. He’s 9. Just a few years more and he’s no longer my baby. I’m slowly losing him and time is ticking.

I have to be better. I’m tired.

If you think it’s hard to raise a child, think of it this way. It’s harder to raise a parent. I blame myself sometimes for bringing him into this harsh, cruel, world with an imperfect mother.

Can we try again tomorrow?

Maybe I’m writing this to express my emotions. Maybe I’m writing this to give myself a reminder. My anxiety is up the roof and I don’t even know if I have tomorrow or how many chances I still have to get better.

Geof, if you’re grown up (or if you can read this now), and get the chance to read this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the times I get cranky, moody, and angry. Thank you. Thank you for being the best kid a single mom can ever have. You never gave me problems at all, most of the time it’s the other way around, and I’m sorry. I love you forever. I’ll always try be a better person for you, everyday.