Personal victories

I did it. I made the phone call I've been avoiding for so long. I have an appointment with a therapist a week from Tuesday. I feel good about it. Optimistic and proud of myself. Two things I can't recall feeling at all in the last several months or more. It needed to be done. Ada and I had a very, very rough morning on Thursday, and I felt sick to my stomach most of the day about how my depression is affecting her. The enormous personal responsibility I feel to get help for her sake maybe more than my own drove me to pick up the phone. And my mother begging me to do it helped too. I hate when she is constantly worried sick about me. That's part of my character too-I just can't stand causing stress in anyone else. I will always absorb it all myself first, of I can. But lately I've been leaning on my mom a lot when things are really bad in my head and she has been carefully trying to push me to seek professional help. It's become clear that I'm still suffering postpartum depression on addition to anxiety and oc tendencies. Those things I've dealt with even before I ever had Ada. But since having her, I haven't ever really felt like myself again. 

Before Ryan and I got married, I went to therapy for a couple months to try and work out some trust and relationship issues I had because of my family. Some of it helped, but thinking back on it now, I realize clearly two things. One, I hadn't become aware yet of all the things in my brain and behavior contributing to my constant unhappiness which require professional assistance. I am aware of a ton more of them now. I'm also about 6 or 7 years older and wiser now. Secondly, I wasn't truly ready to open myself up then and accept the help I truly needed. I am now. So ready. In fact I don't know where to start when I get there. The embarrassment and reservations are gone now. I just desperately want relief and a brighter future. I need confidence that I can raise my daughter well, and not hurt her because of my own mental health issues. I want to sleep again without battling the relentless and rambling thoughts.    

This is the first step. And just having it behind me now has left me with more calm than I've felt in nearly 6 months. I think things are going to be okay. And I'm willing to work my ass off for that. 

Baby steps

It's hard and scary when you realize you need to start over. When you realize people and things in your life are no longer aiding your growth and vice versa. When you see all that's left between you is a shell in the shape of past and memories, and a fleck of remaining effort to make it seem like it isn't so hollow. But I've been in this place before and I do believe it's helped me to come to the realization it's time to let go much more quickly now. It's time to make room for the next people and experiences which will shape and teach me. 

So much of what I've been going through lately has had dual purpose. It's helping me pinpoint where I need the most help, and showing me who I can expect to help me through it. And it's been incredibly painful to realize how lonely I actually am, but I feel like its for the better long term. Sometimes you miss something really amazing because you're not looking for it. You don't realize you need to. You don't consider that you have the room for it because you thought all those slots were filled. So while it hurts like hell to finally see how actually open those slots are, at least they now have potential. 

So many things have been churned and upheaved in me, and now as the dust is just beginning to settle, I have to figure out how all the pieces fit together. Because they've changed. I have hope that this new picture, once revealed, will be even more vibrant and inspiring. I am optimistic about it, as there have been very few times I've gone through a time like this with nothing to show for it in the end. But right now I haven't put the pieces together yet. I'm just beginning to breathe again. To be able to fall asleep on my own again. To have more than two days in a row when I don't end up sobbing on a pile of laundry. So I'll happily continue to take this one day at a time until even more answers come to light. And I'll happily accept the necessity of starting back at square one in order to embrace a better future. One where I am as important as the things and people I love. To them, and to me. 

Enough

I realize that I need to learn how to be as selfish and self serving as everyone fucking else.  But see, my conscious gets the best of me.  Which is useless.  Because trying to be a selfless person gets you nowhere.  I'm so sick of it.  Too bad it's a habit at this point.  Because I would change it in a blink of an eye if I didn't have such an issue with guilt.  And why the hell do I feel guilty about anything?  It's not like I ever get my efforts reciprocated.  Yes, I'm throwing a tantrum.  I'm at least taking the opportunity to do THAT for myself.  And screw you if you have a problem with it.  

That is all.

More

Fact: It is physically impossible for me to put in a full day of work, make my house sparkle, put dinner on the table, tend to Ada's every need and be a perfect wife with full make-up and not a hair out of place, while also getting in a work-out every day to make sure you can't tell I ever had a baby.

 

Also fact:  I desperately want to be physically able to do all of these things and I feel worthless because I can't.  I just can't let it go.  And sometimes I wonder, since I can't ever sleep at night anymore anyways, why don't I just utilize those hours between 9pm and 5:30am to BE able to do all of those things????  Huh???  Huh????  Oh, because it's crazy.  And unrealistic.  And unhealthy. 

 

It's funny to me how I can recognize all of these things as fact, but I cannot change my mind-set about them. 

 

Every time Ryan sweeps the kitchen floor or wipes down the kitchen counters - Housekeeping Fail.

 

Every time I let him take care of Ada so I can take a nap (unsuccessfully) or try to work out, or take a breather - Mother Fail. 

 

Every time I walk around all day in yoga pants and no make-up, too tired to try and tone up the unsightly skin pouch that became my lower abdomen since having our daughter (yes, I can now be officially considered a Marsupial) - Wife Fail. 

 

Every time I think about how much I resent working now and how much it overwhelms me to have to balance working with mothering - Woman Fail.  

 

And I'd rather not even get into the massive LIFE Fail I feel about being at my current job for the last 8 years (read: almost a decade) and having no foreseeable opportunities to change and actually do something with my life other than work an hourly job I've had since before I was even legally allowed to drink in a bar.  The regret I feel for not caring more and working harder to achieve something when I was still young and free....  Kids, follow through with college.  Don't rack up stupid amounts of debt on your credit cards assuming that you'll be in a fine position to pay it off down the road.  You don't have to know what you want to do for the rest of your life - just do something worthwhile now so that you CAN do what you want to do for the rest of your life when you figure it out. 

 

Everything just feels like failure to me.  No matter what I do.  I can't do anything for myself without an enormous avalanche of guilt burying me alive. I spend 40 hours each week at a job I don't even want to be at anymore, really loathe being at, as a matter of fact, because I made a lot of stupid decisions a lot of years ago, and now I don't even have the option of staying with my daughter and cherishing the moments that are already passing so quickly. And the worst part is that I have no idea how to fix it.  I don't know how it's ever going to feel any better.

 

I have some days when I just cannot put on the face to cover all of this up.  And it's the worst at home.  When it's like that, I feel even more guilty because I know I'm making it harder on Ryan, but I can't muster up the energy to try and fake it.  I know he struggles, especially when I'm so down.  But it's also super hard for me to feel like I have to fake it most of the time.  I expect to have to try at work, around other family members, all of that.   It's always like that.  But my internal battles are putting too much stress on my husband, and so I have to try and absorb it at home too.  Because I know it's not fair of me.  But it's so hard to not have anyone to crumble to when I so often feel like I just want to crumble.  To just be held and told that I'm not a horrible person for not being able to sort this out on my own, and that I'm not ruining anyone else's life just because I can't get mine together during this period.  Because a lot of times I don't know if those things are true, and I don't really have anyone reassuring me.  And right now, I could really use it.

 

Truthfully, I'm a lot more scared about how I've been feeling for the past month then I admit to anyone.  And I'm a lot more scared that I don't know if or when it's going to get better.  I've never felt this much about this many things all at once.  My whole identity has been shuffled since becoming a mom, and I'm still trying to figure out who I'm becoming - it's only been 5 months.  I just don't know yet.  And that makes it all the more impossible for me to deal with any of this effectively.  I'm confused, and I'm scared, and I'm not seeing how I'm ever going to find a balance.  I'm trying really, really hard to see it.  I want to see it.  I'd give anything to see it.  I just can't right now.

Is this it?

It's been a while. It's now almost August and I've been back to work for almost two months exactly. I guess you can say I'm in a routine now. It's become just life again. But I'm working non stop now because Ada is 4 and a half months old, and my work doesn't stop when I clock out for the day. I have to say I'm exhausted. I've never had so much to do all the time. Not to mention the awful bout of insomnia I've been battling for a month now. It all adds up to basically make me crazy. I'm running on fumes every day, and sometimes it's okay, and other times I feel like I should be locked up in a mental institution. I wish I were joking. Ada is becoming such a little person. Nothing brings me more joy and laughter. I fall more in love with her every day. She is my constant, and the only tether I have to any form of sanity right now. If I couldn't count on seeing her big gummy smile saving me every day, I don't know what I'd do. Honestly. She is the greatest thing I could ever have imagined. And that's really important for me right now, because I sort of feel like everything else is falling apart. Some days she is the only thing that makes me happy. I'm having a really tough time being happy right now, is the thing. And the constant not sleeping is making it 1,000 times worse. I keep finding myself coming back to the same phrase in my mind, over and over. That this isn't the life I wanted. And I don't mean having a family - that is the thing I wanted all along. It's the being a working mom. Constantly having a running list of to-do's that I know I'll never catch up with. But that list keeps me from fully enjoying and focusing on the few precious hours of the day that I do have with my daughter during the week. I don't know. I pictured it differently in my mind before she was born. I was sure I'd be the type of person who would be fine wih working full time and being a mom. But I'm not. I'm not doing very well with it. I'm overwhelmed with guilt and chores. The fact that there is never enough time on the day suffocates me. I kind of hate it. And add to that the feeling of utter failure and weakness of being the one woman in this country who just can't handle a job AND a baby. I used to love working. Now I resent every minute of it for robbing me of so much time with my rapidly growing baby. And severely diminishing the quality of the time I do have with her. But I absolutely have no option of not working because our money situation is so bad and we have so much debt. I've never felt so trapped and smothered and hopeless. It's really no wonder I can't sleep anymore. I don't really know what to do. I am honestly taken aback by the complete and total rage I feel sometimes. And the resentment. The guilt. The envy of everyone who doesn't have to feel this every day. I need to see a therapist on my own. Ryan and I still need to see a therapist together to try and fix our issues in our marriage. But chalk that up to another of the many things we need but can't afford. I feel like everything is going to go to shit before we can. I've honestly just never felt this awful. And I don't know how it's going to change. Because as I said, this isn't the life I wanted. Some days I can do okay. But a lot of days re really really horrible, and I can't lift a finger out from under the weight of all I feel. I'm totally in over my head and I don't think I can dig myself out of this one.

12 Weeks My Arse

This is my last week of maternity leave.  It's already Wednesday.  I woke up this morning at 5:05, and felt pretty certain that I will now be awake until next Monday when I go back to work.  Forget about turning off my brain long enough to get any rest before then.  I am leaving my three month old daughter in the care of OTHER PEOPLE 40 hours per week.  How many freaking hours are in a week anyways?  Please hold while I consult my calculator because I am mathematically challenged.  ::pleasant hold music::

168.  168 hours in a week.  40 of which will be in daycare.  Approximately 63 hours spent sleeping, because my baby is an awesome sleeper, and sleeps more than I did during years 13 through 18.  Which leaves me with 65 hours with my baby each week.  Does this seem unfair, ridiculous, cruel, impractical, and any millions of other possible negative adjectives which fit this scenario, to anyone else?  She's a baby.  I'm a baby.  We need each other. 


I joke, but I'm seriously about to have a nervous breakdown.  I don't know if I can do this.  I can't even think about it for more than 5 minutes without getting tightness in my chest and racing thoughts, and a horrible lump in my throat.  What am I going to do?  I think it's horrible that mothers have to leave their tiny babies so early in this country to go back to work.  And I'm extremely resentful about it right now.  But I suppose that is for another post.


It is breaking my heart.  For three months I have been at her side nearly every moment.  I'm watching her grow and learn new things and get smarter and funnier and more affectionate and coordinated every day.  How the hell am I supposed to just leave all of that to someone else all day long now?  She's going to do so many things for the first time under someone else's care.  I'm jealous.  I'm hurt.  I'm guilty.  I'm completely unprepared.  I think this might kill me.  Is she going to feel completely abandoned all day and miss me terribly?  Is she going to not miss me at all eventually?  Which one will hurt worse?  I don't even know.  But what I do know is that out of my entire life, these last three months have been the most important, and the most meaningful, and now I feel like I'm going to voluntarily fail at my job as a mother, which I think is the most important job in the entire world.  How can I not, when I'm only getting one more day a week with my child than someone else is, when all the hours are totaled up?  I don't know if I've ever felt so low about anything in my life.


I know that eventually I'm going to adjust and this is going to become my normal routine.  But I want to go on record that I hate that.  I don't think it's natural, and I don't think it's even remotely right.  All it means is that I'm going to adapt to being a little bit colder and harder, and allow this switching off of my emotional need for constant contact with my baby to become automatic.  It sucks.  And a world which requires me to do that sucks.  


I admit that there are times during the day when my very demanding and high maintenance daughter will scream and cry no matter what I do, because she needs constant stimulation, and I have the thought, "I'm going back to work next week!!!!" rather joyously.  But that only lasts about 10 minutes.  I will admit that there is a part of me that is looking forward to getting back into the working game.  I have friends there, and I enjoy my job.  But it's just that all of these other emotions are outweighing those things.  It doesn't mean they aren't there, but they're being trumped by motherhood.  I will find enjoyment in going to work again eventually, but I just don't think I'll ever feel completely at ease with it again.  Everything has changed.  Everything.  I'm so different than I was three months ago.  And in a couple of years I'm going to get to do this all over again! 


Hopefully.   :)

Ada

Ada is here.  She has been here for three weeks.  Born March 12th at 1:24 a.m.  She is perfect.  She is beautiful and bright and incredibly smart already.  I suppose every parent says that, but I swear on all that is holy it's true.  She started smiling at me when she was 10 days old.  She is now three weeks and one day old, and she's starting to make noises and get super excited when I talk to her.  And when she smiles up at me with all those gums, kicking her legs and balling her tiny hands into fists with so much effort to talk back to me, most of the time I cry a little bit.  I've never felt anything like that.  And she's getting more responsive every day.  You may not believe me, but it's absolutely true.  She has some crazy level of understanding and ability to communicate, and when she looks at me, I've never felt so naked in every single facet of my being.  Those eyes are like nothing I have ever experienced.

The first two weeks were an adjustment like I've never ever had to work through before.  And don't get me wrong - I'm still adjusting every day.  But the difference is, during the first two weeks I cried and cried for my old life, my old routines, my old freedom, and I constantly wondered - silently and aloud - just WTF I was thinking.  How could I think that I would be able to do this?  So, so much regret.  And it was hard some days to get up and take care of her.  I know this is common for new moms, but damn that horrible darkness I felt some days.  And now, a day into week three, something seems to have changed.  I still have moments where I get overwhelmed, and I need to get away for a few moments.  But basically, I feel capable, I feel calm, and there is this absolutely incredible love growing inside of me for this little creature that I'm starting to just sit in awe of, and be totally amazed.  I was so scared I wasn't going to develop it in those first two weeks.  But it's starting to completely take me over.  And there are now an increasing number of moments throughout the day where I look down at her, and I am more excited than I have ever been in my entire life that we have so much ahead of us.  She is already bigger.  She's already more beautiful.  She's already changing so much.  I don't want to take a single moment for granted.

She is teaching me.  I am learning from her.  Sometimes it's really challenging to be alone with her all day long while Ryan works, and then have other challenges when he is home.  But part of the reason I'm feeling so much more comfortable recently is BECAUSE I have been spending so much time with her.  I'm learning about her - her personality, what she likes and doesn't like, what calms her and what makes her more upset, how she likes to be held, and what she's trying to tell me with her body language.  I'm by no means a pro at this yet.  I'm just learning.  But I feel like I'm getting to know her so much more lately.  And it makes me want to care for her all the more.  She's so tiny, and she's been thrust into this strange, loud, scary world outside of me.  The moment I hear her whimper or cry, I want to be there.  I want her to know that I will always be there just as soon as she needs me.  I feel that especially right now, in these early weeks and months, we are laying a foundation for our relationship with her, and how she feels with us.  I was so scared that I was royally effing that up in the first couple of weeks.  But now, I am developing such a drive to make sure that I am there.  That's all, really.  Just so she knows I'm there for her.  She comes first.  No matter what else I have going on at any given second, she is the most important.  I think she can tell the difference.  I feel it from the very core of my being when we are looking at each other.  There is such an understanding, and it's the most moving thing that I've ever felt.  I just can't put it into words, even though I keep trying and trying.