Losing Control Means
To me, losing control is scary. It means the results are unpredictable. It means I’m stupid because I couldn’t see it coming.
Losing control is scary because if I lose it, I don’t have faith in my family and loved ones that they will be around to support me nor do I feel like I can lose control because I have two jobs, kids I have to take care of, bills I have to pay. I do a lot around the house, bills wise, and I don’t have faith that Andres could handle it on his own.
I don’t have faith that my family will help care for my kids or explain things to Andres or help in any other way. I feel like I’ve had enough breakdowns in my life that they will abandon me, they will give up on me. They will judge me, saying I’m losing it again. Or I just want attention. That I’m weak, immature, crazy. I don’t feel like I’m allowed to be me. I don’t feel like I can have bad days or angry days. I don’t feel like I can express myself fully to anyone. Possibly because I don’t completely understand myself either, but I want someone that is patient and tries to understand me. I will say that Andres has been a lot more patient and understanding lately.
If I lose control, I would have to get inpatient, in depth counseling and care. I would risk losing my jobs. I would be extra stressed worrying about whats going on or not going on, whats getting done or not getting done, while I was inpatient, that I wouldn’t be able to fully relax or concentrate on me. I’d worry whether my kids were staying on schedule. Whether the bills are paid.
When I lose control, I have angry outbursts. Sometimes, because I can’t handle whatever is going on. I get extra stressed or irritated and I can’t calm down. I know that I often need to walk away to calm down or just have a few minutes of silence to sort out my thoughts, but there have been times when neither of those were an option. I’ve had anger outbursts that have made me feel very ashamed, out of control, like I don’t know who I am, it scares me. To feel out of control.
I just want someone to take me seriously. That how I feel and what I think is really happening. That I’m really struggling and that’s okay. I’m so tired of people telling me to move on, or forget about it. That I have so much going for me so I shouldn’t be upset. That I sleep too much, or not enough, that I work too much or not enough. THat I need to be home with the kids more, that I need to clean more or cook better. I feel that the world has such big expectations of me, and sometimes, yeah, it motivates me, but mostly its so much pressure and stress to try to be perfect. I wanna lose it sometimes, I want to be able to cry or scream or yell and not told to calm down or be quiet or control yourself. It’s even harder when I’m ashamed and embarrassed that I am reacting how I am and then someone (Andres) looks at me like I’m crazy or being ridulous, I don’t feel that my feelings are validated. I feel like something is wrong with me, when people don’t want to listen.
I could be venting to a friend and they interrupt me to talk about themselves. Or to dad, and he just blurts out some random thought about something completely different. Andres would do it by not responding or looking at me, or asking questions. Didn’t feel like he was a part of the conversation or even cared about what I had to say.
Losing control means I’m not strong. That I’m crazy. That I haven’t changed. I’ve fought so hard to be a strong, beautiful person that is a great wife, mother, friend, daughter, sister, etc. So it hurts when I don’t feel that others see that. I know that’s stupid, that I shouldn’t care what they think, but I do. And that makes me unhappy. I feel that my family finally sees a “sane” girl and if I relapse into “crazy” again, they will laugh and say I told you so or some other comment about how they knew it was gonna happen or how I was never “healthy” to begin with.
I guess this stems from when I was younger (child and adult) and my feelings not being acknowledged. I was always “demanding attention” and hyperactive and was often pushed away. Told to calm down or to be quiet. I remember being told I used to push in between people, to get the attention of one of them, for example, my mom and sister, I would push my way in the middle trying to get my moms attention.
As an adult, that saddens me; I was just a little child who wanted attention. I know I was the baby of four, my mother was stressed and fighting her own battles and we struggled to pay bills and have enough food, but its sad, when I was trying so hard to be heard and I just kept being pushed away. I was screaming and no one heard me.
Life isn't easy, but it's worth it. 