The Truth About My Lack of Control

I wish I could say I always think before I speak. Or that I’m calm and patient and collected when life gets messy. But that would be a lie.

Half the time, I’m reacting before I even realize it. Snapping at my husband over something stupid, rolling my eyes at the kids, eating junk because I’m “stressed,” shopping online because I just want to feel something other than tired. It’s like I watch myself do it and still can’t stop.

And then comes the shame spiral. The “why can’t I just chill?” The “what’s wrong with me?” The guilt that hits after I see my kid’s face fall or my husband go quiet. I hate that part. That moment where I realize I let my emotions drive again, like I’m just a passenger in my own damn life.

It’s not about being ungrateful. I love my family. I love my life. But sometimes I feel like I’m one undone thought away from losing it. Like there’s no pause button between feeling overwhelmed and exploding.

I tell myself I’ll do better next time. That I’ll breathe. That I’ll walk away. But in the moment, it’s like I don’t even exist outside the reaction. I’m just pure emotion — frustration, exhaustion, all of it bubbling over because I’ve been holding it in all day trying to keep everyone else okay.

And honestly? Sometimes I don’t want to fix it right away. Sometimes I just want to sit in the mess and admit it — I don’t have it together. I lose my cool. I make impulsive choices. I’m not the calm, perfect mom everyone seems to be online. I’m human. Messy, moody, reactive, tired — me.

So yeah. I don’t always have impulse control. I say things I regret. I act before I think. But at least I’m real about it. No fake “everything’s fine” smile here. Just me, trying to figure it out one unfiltered, imperfect day at a time.

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When the Headset Never Comes Off