My youngest is 4 years old, and I’ve finally come to terms with it: I have postpartum rage.

It’s been a few months now that I’ve been questioning myself. Wondering what’s wrong with me. Wondering if other moms feel this. Wondering if I’m just desperately trying to label my emotions so I can justify my feelings.

I’ve read the posts and pieces and memes and laughed it off and cried it off for as long as I can, but I’ve reached a point where I’m flat out lying to myself. Telling myself lies, because it can’t be, right?

My youngest is 4 years old, wouldn’t I have noticed it before? Why does everything trigger me?

When they yell, it triggers me.
When they fight, it definitely triggers me.
When they cry, it triggers me.
When I have to repeat myself like a broken record, it triggers me.
When they laugh too loud in the car, it triggers me.

The good and the bad trigger me. And I know some people will read this and think how horrible I am, that even my children laughing triggers me.

But I am so spent.

I am so tired of breaking up fights.
I am so tired of folding laundry.
I am so tired of cooking food that won’t get eaten.
I am so tired of forced outings and play dates and speaking in a limited vocabulary.
I am so tired of saying im so tired.

Which is why everything triggers me. The fact of the matter is, I had 3 beautiful children all 2 years apart and didn’t have any time in between to catch my breath. I didn’t get a chance to get my head above water before I found myself immersed in mundane day to day tasks of keeping little humans alive and well.

And I’m not saying I’m ungrateful and regretful. I’m not saying that I would trade my children for the world. I’m not saying I don’t love them with every atom of my being.

I just want someone to hear me and tell me they feel what I feel without throwing suggestions and solutions at me. I just want to feel validated and understood. I just want someone to tell me that it’s ok, and that this will pass.

This smile I paint on my face everyday is hiding a whirlwind of emotions inside me screaming to be let out. It’s draining and exhausting to always try so hard to be and look ok.

I am spent. That’s all.