DAY 5 - Life Hack (21 DAYS OF RAGE)

This is the 5th instalment of a 21 day writing series about maternal rage and anger.

I was in my 20s when I first read a book about mindfulness. My mind, previously so distracted, felt blown. I couldn't believe how little I'd been paying attention to the present moment, how much my hands had ignored, my eyes and ears.  

It was the beginning of a dive into self-development and improvement, armchair psychology, yoga and more yoga, strategising about how to be better, healthier and manage my life into a good vibes only zone. 

Around the time my daughter turned into a proper toddler - gave up her daily nap, shouted NO at every suggestion, launched herself full throttle into screaming tantrums, decided to throw every meal I had made to the ground - I noticed I was, unsurprisingly, losing the ability to stay calm more frequently. Once evening, I took a picture of my tear-stained face after a particularly gruelling day. I was ashamed at being so shouty and I vowed to get better at spotting the warning signs of my increasing frustrations.

As I felt the challenge of maintaining patience, I would take 10 long slow breaths, splash cold water on my face, roar into a pillow and reset myself. In that moment with renewed commitment to being a better mother, I felt energised and excited about putting my new plan into action. I was almost looking forward to her next meltdown! (lollllll)

It probably worked for a while, until I was exhausted or sad or hormonal or overwhelmed, until my humanness waved desperately from the other side of the shore, trying to make itself known. There are definitely ways I can influence how present and patient I am as a parent, like not getting stuck to my phone, listening to Dr Becky explain how kids' brains work and taking more time to play and be silly with my kids than stressing about tidying up the mess.

And there will always be elements of my life I cannot control, moments when their big feelings coincide with something going on with me. It is very alluring to think we can read a blog with tips for being a better person and zing, our shadow side gets eliminated in a puff of smoke. A friend commented "the usual explanation of rage as a response to an unmet need only goes so far, and grates when the reality is that the need remains unmet ..." Parenting without community or family support, trying to balance work and parenting and life, dealing with grief and ill health and desires thwarted and needs not met, are the waves cresting while we try to keep afloat. We must allow for stormy seas now and again, maybe frequently, and work out how to ride the waves and recover from the crash. 

At the end of last year, I was more anxious and scared than I have ever been in my life. Outside events crowded in and I had no idea how I could get through the days and hours and minutes of parenting alone. A few times in the early evening I sank to the floor in the kitchen, fighting off a panic attack and trying to keep my cool while they screamed at each other or me and I burnt dinner. It was a fucking hard time. I tried to survive, to take it minute by minute, one foot in front of the other. I am a good person. You are a good person. We are all, every one of us, just trying to make it through.