I am such a fake, a poser. I hate myself.
I walk on eggshells all day. I'm afraid of making my son angry, but he gets angry anyway. My husband hates me. I was practicing piano today and he made his video volume louder. How rude is that? I would never do that to him while he was practicing trumpet. I always try to keep the kids quiet. I have to ask him several times for help. Now I know he hates when I put his cheese away into the fridge when he leaves it out, so I am afraid to put anything of his away anymore. I asked if I should close the garage door - there are thieves around here. But I'd rather not get him angry and have thieves take something. At least then it's not my fault.
My son has tantrums. Sometimes I cannot control myself. I yell at him. I am now carrying earplugs in my pockets at all times. Maybe that will help.
I am so controlled and cheery at work. I pretend to everyone that I'm this carefree California girl who drinks java chip frappucino and doesn't know the price of milk because my husband takes care of everything. No one wants to hear that when I was shopping for my son's 10th birthday present, I was looking in the toddler section of Amazon. Multicolored flashlights, pretend remote controls with music and lights. I am so good at figuring out what my son wants... my presents to him are always a hit. But... Amazon always asks me to look at new 2-3-year-old toys.
I hate my life. I am so filled with sorrow and worry and walking on eggshells. I hate my life. I am such a sham.
I am shortchanging both my kids. My cognitive delayed 10yo and my brilliant 8yo. I hate myself.