Yesterday, I felt defeated. It was as if I was hiking up a steep hill wearing a backpack full of heavy rocks. Each rock represented something different. One was lack of sleep, another represented anxiety. One was depression, fear, exhaustion and the heaviest one that always seems to be making its presence known goes by the name of Duchenne.
Nights are the hardest for me as a Duchenne mom. The worries, the stress, and the exhaustion seem to catch up to me as soon as my head hits the pillow. I try to gear up for the night ahead, knowing that I will still be needed throughout the night. I feel honored to be a caretaker to my beautiful boys, but that doesn’t take away the exhaustion that it brings. By the end of the night, I feel like my strength is completely depleted, and yet I must get up every time I’m called.
I’m a good mom, but I don’t always feel like one. Every day I do so many things for my children that I’m proud of, but by the end of the day, my thoughts always seem to shift to where I fell short. I use every ounce of my energy to care for my family. I accomplish more in one day than some probably get done in a week, and yet, I go to bed focused on my failures. I close my eyes, wondering what I could’ve done better. I’m constantly wondering if I did enough, and it’s exhausting.