I am a good mom, my little boy comes first, always. I am a good mom, I would lay down my life for him. I am a good mom, I keep my boy fed and clothed. I am a good mom, my little buddy is happy and healthy. I am a good mom, he is growing and hitting his milestones. I am a good mom, I am in awe of him every day. I am a good mom, I let the little guy explore and play while keeping him safe. I am a good mom, that little boy loves me so much his face lights up when he sees me after a long day at work. I am a good mom. Deep down inside I know this to be true. It can just be hard to remember. Hard because all this anxiety masks the goodness. It makes me question what I know to be true about myself and about my corner of the world. I hate every single second of it. Hate that I require a prescription to function. Hate the physical symptoms of it. Hate what it is doing to my husband. I just have to keep reminding myself of the good. I am a good mom and I won’t let this anxiety take that away from me.