Today was a day like that day. The day when I lost my head and slapped my eldest daughter in the face.
It was the same morning as today, where the two eldest kids were doing all they’re supposed to do, getting ready for school, and the youngest was tantruming just because she’s the youngest and thinks that acting like a baby suits her just fine… a day when the stress was at such a peak level that when my eldest daughter responded back to me in a rude way, it’s as if the lights went out and I just lost it.
The big difference between that day and today is that, what happened on that day, happened. And everything that followed suit happened too.
I spent the last four weeks without my children. Child services, police, the school, the after school club, not to mention the kids’ Dad and his family, all involved and affected by my actions on that day, by my loss of control and burst of anger.
There is no excuse for what I did, and the fact that the images keep coming back to my head over and over and over again don’t help matters either. My minister says I need to forgive myself, learn and move on. But it’s not easy.
I felt like a criminal, like the worst Mom in the world. The circumstances didn’t seem to matter one bit. The pressures and stresses that are crushing me served only to give context, but little more…
Four weeks felt like a lifetime, and I gradually felt worse and worse. Not only the stresses of life were still there, I was now depressed too, for not having my children with me, for talking to them mostly through a video call…
Fortunately the worst has passed. The kids are back home. The social worker did warn me that when they came back, they would push the buttons all over again, as they do. She told me to be vigilant for my triggers, to remove myself from the situation if I needed to, if they won’t; to seek out help and support from the other adults in the house. Not going at it alone.
And so, with the beauty of hindsight, of learned experience from mistakes, today was not the same as that day. There were the same triggers, the same upsets, the same rushing, the same stress. But there was no lashing out, no strike back, no mindless reaction… because I considered the consequences of my actions before acting.
On that day, I didn’t allow myself time to think of the consequences, I just acted out my anger and frustration. But today, those consequences aren’t just an idea, a conjecture. They are very real, and a very big deterrent given how scary it all was.
A line was crossed on that day. And I sure hope, with the help of God and everyone around me, that it is never crossed again.