Breaking Point

Yesterday. I felt like it could have been my breaking point. I have had episodes like that with him, but now looking back, it feels like it was more intense, more unwarranted, more of a shock to my system, and a confirmation... That I'm alone, and unloved. I never needed attention, validation or proof of love, but it felt like something inside me died yesterday, after all that. Maybe I had killed myself. Somehow, in some little way. Maybe I had already put a knife through my own heart. With all the things happening around me, all the lack of support, and all the poisonous words coming out of our mouths, I can no longer live like this. And I know something has to change.

I was just reading about how a mother killed 3 of her children. And of course, it sounded so evil at the time. But after reading a bit more about it, doing a little research, it seems she was drowning, emotionally, psychologically, after moving to a new city and being left alone with the children. And she asked for help, she reached out, she told people, but nobody stepped up to help her. Of course, I still won't condone what she's done and to the children, the poor innocent creatures who didn't deserve this. But I can definitely understand her angle and her struggle. 

I know I would never do that to my children. I love them very much. And I want them to have a good happy future. I don't want them to remember anything that happened yesterday when I was screaming at Papa, and Papa was rude to me. And Oma came in and started blaming me as well. No one can see that I was trying my best. It's always my fault. And he says, he always says he isn't blaming me. 

But the words he used, the words he always uses, "But you're the mother. You are the mother, you decide." And this reminds me of the very annoying thing that Oma used to do, judge me and tell me what I should or shouldn't do with the children when they were just babies.And then when we went for a pram ride, she'd ask where I want to go and I'd think, oh, you're so opinionated, you think you know everything better than I ever will. "Why don't you decide? You tell me where you think we should go for a pram ride." And she'd chuckle and go, "No, no, you decide, you're the mother." And my thoughts were, what the hell? Why would you leave a menial, trivial, stupid decision to me because I'm the mother and when it comes to everything else to do with their nutrition, sugar, cakes, water, sleep... suddenly I'm not the mother?

I am only existing, surviving, and am emotionally drained. I am relieved that I do get a lot of love from the boys, yet that feels erased when Papa suddenly blindsides me with something hurtful. Maybe because I left everything I knew and built over the years to move across the world. It was for him but it was my choice. I have trapped myself.

There are still little points of light. Such as when one of the boys suddenly hug me, look into my eyes and tell me, "I really really love you so much." I guess that keeps me going.