Is It Bedtime Yet? Asking for My Nervous System

Spoiler: It’s not bedtime, and someone just asked for a snack again.

Here’s the thing about my kids: they’re not doing anything wrong.

They’re loud. They’re energetic. They have big feelings and even bigger needs.

They’re being… well, kids.

But when you’re someone with severe anxiety, even normal kid energy can feel like an air raid siren going off inside your brain. The constant noise, questions, snack requests, messes, fighting, tears, laughter, bouncing, movie debates, and “watch me!” moments stack up until I feel like I’m drowning in sensory overload.

And that’s before my husband pops in, needing connection. Or I remember the assignment due tonight. Or the fact that baths, bedtime routines, and tomorrow’s work alarm are all still looming.

My brain doesn’t process this all as “just parenting.” It processes it as a threat. It goes straight into panic mode:

Too much. Too fast. Too loud. Too many.

I feel like I’m being attacked by tiny, snack-demanding humans who love me endlessly but somehow always need me all at the same time. And the guilt of that? The guilt of feeling that way about your own family? It’s crushing.

I ask myself all the time:

How do I stay calm?

How do I respond with patience?

How do I not lash out when I want to scream “EVERYONE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR FIVE MINUTES”?

How do I be a good mom when I’m overstimulated to the point of tears?

I don’t have the answers. I really wish I did.

All I know is that it’s hard. It’s messy. And some nights, surviving until bedtime feels like a miracle in itself.

This isn’t a post with a solution. There’s no tidy bow on this one. Just a tired mom, trying to quiet the noise in her head while still showing up for the people she loves.