The wind blows the leaves around that have given up.  They let go.  They get lost in the chaos of the season.  All focus is gone.  Mother nature exhales, trying to brace herself for the next season that’s about to come.  Similar to motherhood.

It happens every year.  Magical beauty to behold and gaze upon with the vibrant colors.  Just like the beauty shown between a mother and child, while the baby’s head is nestled on her shoulder. You can spend time outside surrounded by the beauty of fall, yet you can’t help but feel the crushing loneliness when you look at the trees that were once a different form.  Being a stay at home mom can be the same at times.  The sadness and isolation.  You have this job to shape, mold, and raise these kids – and God gives you a kid who is so complex and contains so much unpredictability.  Having typical kids is a journey all in itself, and then there’s my journey with Chloe.  So many don’t understand.  Why don’t you want to go to big events? . . Why are you hesitant about a birthday party? It’ll be so fun for her! You go alone to the grocery store, oh you’re so lucky.  You’re so lucky to have such a great husband/father to your kids.   . . Why, why, why…

   There is no doubt in the world that I’m extremely blessed – but that doesn’t dismiss the reality of the mental toll that being on this journey takes.  Constantly second guessing yourself, and while trying to figure out what works and what doesn’t, you are trying to tune out an insanely hyperactive child so you don’t lose it.  I look at the trees changing outside and I wish and pray I could do everything in my power to stop winter from coming.  Seasonal depression is no joke, and I’m going to be dealing with it while having baby #3 in the mix.  Feeling so lost and alone when you try to reach out for a listening ear and you’re generally met with, “I don’t understand, everything is fine with her! You’re wasting your time.”  My little girl is struggling if not more than me, just in different areas, but glad to know who I can and can’t talk to.

I just told Chloe for the fourth time she needs to take her nightgown off … she is currently hopping down the hallway.  I’m beating my head against a brick wall.  I talk to myself all day long, and repeat just about every word, oh I’m not sure how many times.  I lose count.  I lose my mind. Like the leaves that are dead and falling – I, too, feel numb.  I want to let go and just sleep for months – but guess what? I can’t.  It’s not an option.  She’s my daughter and needs me to guide and direct her.  Even though there’s a disconnect that can be so infuriating,  she still knows I’m here for her.  It’s just the most important and hardest job in the world.  “You’re just a stay at home mom?” you say.  Yeah.  “just”. Just every title you could imagine to my kids and husband, and it goes without pay or thanks.  A blind eye is always glued to motherhood.  Your role is assumed and you’re taken for granted.  You are completely invisible until someone needs something.  Even then, you still aren’t seen.  You tend to fade in the back.  Old friends that were once so close, drift away.  The assumption that just because you chose to have a family, it means you don’t need friendships anymore.  I need friendships now more than ever, and although I do have a few cherished friendships, I still have this heavy sense of isolation that is daunting.

Soon winter will be here.  The whole world covered under a blanket of snow, isolating the atmosphere.  Again, while it’s a beautiful thing – it’s weight is crushing.  I know this is just a phase.  It’s just the change of seasons.  I’m determined to make next year better, it’s just going to take a lot of courage and support.  Through all of this I think of Chloe’s heart.  Although the emotional/social aspect is off, I can see her heart.  It’s so, amazingly beautiful, and she makes my heart swell.  I wish everyone could see what I see,  but that’s the gift of being someone’s mother- it’s something for you to cherish and nobody else’s.  No journey has ever been a smooth travel.  This stay at home mom venture while figuring out the help that Chloe needs, and being here for the other girls, is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I do appreciate a lot of it.  I know God is here, with me and guiding me – it’s just so hard to tune out the noise of isolation and turn up the volume of His voice.   I’ll get there, slowly but surely. Anyone else on a similar journey – you are not alone.  Know you are enough, and I’m here if you ever need to talk about your trials and tribulations.


3 thoughts on “Isolation

  1. Oh my, I can fully relate to this! It’s like you read my heart and put it in print. I’m a SAHM with 3 autistic teens, one bio and 2 step at home. My circle is small to begin with, but most of the time, it feels almost non-existent, as we can’t do all the activities and normal things most folks do with their kids…one melts down or another gets aggressive or the other does self harm or majorly inappropriate social things. It makes you retreat to your home, where it’s safe. This is only a season, and one day they will grow up and be on their own somewhere. On the seasonal depression, I had to go last year and get a low dose anti-depressant in order to make it through. It’s just enough to take off the major blues, as it got pretty serious to the point I was seriously suicidal. It’s amazing what the seasonal changes do to you.

    Hang in there…you are definitely not alone!!


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