Mom vs. College: Self

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Mom vs. College: Self

Breaunne Pinckney

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There comes a point in our lives when we are harder on ourselves than anyone else is on us. We feel as if we’re not doing as well as we could, and that we should be doing better.

We may feel that we’re at the point in our lives where we should be at this age.

At this point, we become our worst critics. We judge ourselves not only by our accomplishments (or lack thereof) but also by our appearance and our day to day lives.

As students, we get exhausted. Trying to keep up with all of our assignments, working, getting enough sleep, amongst various other things we deal with can take a toll on us.

We sometimes don’t give ourselves enough credit for all that we do.

I constantly get told about how I am a great role model for young women my age trying to find their way, how I’m setting an example for my little siblings and that they believe they can do anything they put their mind to because of me.

Now, it warms my heart and makes me proud to hear things like that. However, I don’t see it that way all the time.

Sometimes I feel that I could be doing better. I feel that I should have better grades. I feel that I should have a better attitude and outlook on life. I constantly question myself as a mother and wonder if I’m going to screw my kid up like I feel I am. The list goes on.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I’ve come a long way. Honestly, I know that if I was an outsider looking in on someone else who had been through and accomplished what I have, I would, without a doubt, lift them up.

It’s just not that easy to do for myself.

It’s a battle to convince yourself that you are doing the best that you can when you feel like you’re failing miserably at life. It can be draining to be drowning and not knowing how to come out of it.

Sometimes I get in these slumps. They can last for a couple hours, days, sometimes even weeks at a time, and unfortunately I still haven’t figured out how to help myself out of these spells.

My mom keeps telling me to go to the doctor so they can give me happy pills as if the medicine will help the battle I have within.

My friends tell me to think about my son. They tell me he’s all I need and that I should be happy knowing I have him as if my hopelessness lies in my being ungrateful for motherhood.

People who don’t deal with it themselves are quick to say “just choose to be happy,” as if I’m choosing not be.

Who would choose to go days without sleeping? Who would choose to feel hopeless and helpless? Who would choose numbness? No one chooses the feelings. They are out of our control.

So I ask, how do we save us from ourselves?

I ask because I know I’m not the only one. To go from complete happiness one instant, and to be down the next without reason at that moment, it’s a special kind of hell.

“A person drowning can’t ask for help.”

I carry these words with me every single day. I often have to remind myself that I’m doing the best that I can.

We all are doing the best that we can. Sometimes our best doesn’t feel good enough, and that’s okay.

Every day is a new day to push forward.