Parenting - a special assignment

I swing from thinking there’s nothing wrong,

To thinking that everything is.

It’s all my fault!  But I’m doing my best.

I’m trying to be strong, but I feel like a mess.

I don’t know where to find the help that I need

And if I find it, where will it lead?

Doesn’t everyone learn at their own speed?

To admit there’s a problem is such a hard thing.

What if they blame me?  Or think it’s just in my head?

What if I’m wrong? Then I’ll regret what I said!

I swing from thinking there’s nothing wrong,

To thinking that everything is.

It’s all my fault!  But I’m doing my best.

I’m trying to be strong, but I feel like a mess.

It seems like he’s better, I must be making a fuss

But there was still that time and the other,

Those things that made me cuss, then wonder.

Who is this child? What’s it all about?

Why does he act so different? Next time I’ll try not to shout!

I swing from thinking there’s nothing wrong,

To thinking that everything is.

It’s all my fault!  But I’m doing my best.

I’m trying to be strong, but I feel like a mess.

They don’t understand, it’s not the same.

They can laugh and move on and not let it worry them.

I shake and cry then hide and self-condemn.

I must be doing something to make this happen,

I must figure it out, so it can stop.

I must try something else, but first get the mop.

Clean up the spill, dry the tears,

Try to forget the door slamming, try to silence my fears.

The adrenaline’s still running rife through my veins,

It’s so strong, it’s hard not to believe its claims.

You’re a terrible mother.  He will hate you forever.

Could you survive if she died?  Please, you beg - never!

You don’t want these thoughts but they enter unbidden.

Please God, help me, my sins be forgiven.

Don’t punish my children if I’ve done something wrong.

I can’t bear this anymore, help me sing one more song.

If they go to sleep then I can too,

Then I can breathe and believe that it’s possible

To make it through one more day...that’s plausible.

I will try again tomorrow.  It can only get better?

Except that might not be true and the fear says

I need instructions to follow to the letter.

But no-one gave me the manual, to tell me what to do

He came without instructions and she did too.

They are so different, so surely it can’t all be my fault?

I try hard to believe before the next doubt assault.

Where are the answers?  Who do I call?

This is such a struggle, I don’t want to fall.

But no-one is here to pick me up.  

I’m completely empty, there is nothing left in my cup.

He hasn’t noticed, he thinks there’s nothing wrong.

I carry on, and I sing the song.

But the time is coming where I will find out I’m right.

I’m wrong too, but I finally have some insight.

I wish I could have known then, what I know now.

But it was a journey we had to travel by walking

Before I could release the trauma of it through talking.

Even with more experience the pendulum still swings,

from thinking there’s nothing wrong,

To thinking that everything is.

It’s all my fault!  But I’m doing my best.

I’m trying to be strong, but I feel like a mess.