The anger was with myself, not him.

The day I made the agreement with my husband to be a "stay at home mom" my self image changed dramatically. To say that I am a carrer woman, would be an understatement. So, I truly didn't realize how much I would miss working. My son is my everything and I cherished our time together, but this decision took a tole on my own life. I became depressed, mentally drained, and I just completely lost my identity.

At first, my husband son, and I all shared a room. We shared a house with two others and it was difficult. Peace was never an option, watching adult television was out of the question, and my communication to the outside world was on a very rare occasion. This drove me to pure madness, and I became angry, resentful, and selfish. The one thing I dreamed of as a child. other than "marrying prince charming" was to be a "stay at home mom" and it was becoming a nightmare.

At this point, we had one vehicle.My husband was working so leaving to go to the park, grocery store, or a play date was out of the question. I stayed in the house staring at the same walls day in and day out. My purpose became invisible, and I became whatever someone else needed me to be. There was no more Brittany. The hard working, goal driven individual became a thing of the past. I was referred to as "mommy" now.

Being a mommy was great but, I was not prepared for what it had to offer. Scrubbing dishes, doing laundry and listening to screams of what sounded like "torture" because he couldn't have a cookie. When I was working it was fast-paced and there was always something to do. Being home, yes there was stuff to do, but to me at the time it served absolutely no purpose what so ever.

Although my husband and I love each other dearly fights became a usual occurrence. He was stressed because the bills solely relied on him. The car he was driving had no air conditioning and no power steering. The hood was smashed in, and the headlight was duct-taped on. Feelings of being unappreciated, resentment, and frustration resulted.He would ask himself "Why isn't she happy"? or "What did I do"?. The reasons for me not being happy were not as much his fault as I made them out to be. The answer to "What did he do" was nothing. The anger was with myself, not him.

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