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I don't know who this person in the mirror is. She looks familiar. Sounds familiar. More hollow than normal, I think. This person I see is not me. Least, not the best version of me. There are echoes of the best me that resound sometimes late at night or on the weekend. Happy, carefree. She comes out of hiding when I can forget about life's stresses for a moment. Other times, most times, I am sad and stressed and exhausted. This person is not the best, but she is real.

I am still spinning from my 4 year old's recent diagnosis of an autoimmune disorder. I am overwhelmed and constantly dealing with staggering anxiety. I will always worry for his quality of life and wonder if there will be any. He is labeled, now and forevermore, an outsider. My oldest daughter is tiresome. She is the sweetest child I know, but these moments of sweetness are so rare and highly unattainable on a regular basis. It breaks me to not know how to connect with her. Her personality is foreign to me, and I feel like I am constantly trying to reason with the enemy.  My infant is frustrating. She does not nap or sleep at night. She will not take a bottle so I can at least get a break. (I am desperate.) I am screamed at, fussed at, pinched, pulled, and scratched all day long by an unhappy baby. There is no recovery at the end of the day because there is never any sleep, only briefs moments of closed eyes before she is alert and screaming, needing again and again and again. She does not frustrate me by her actions - instead, I am frustrated in myself for feeling like such a lost mother. I do not feel like a good mother. I feel tired and sad and confused. Everyone in my house screams "Daddy", while internally, I yearn for them to scream for me. Can't they just want me some of the time? I give and give for these four children, and I still fall so short every single day.

I don't know where I am or when I'm coming back to who I want to be. I am searching, but I don't know where she has gone or if she's ever coming back. I feel broken.