Just because I don't want that post at the top anymore!
I'm going to the doctor tomorrow to see about general health, possibility of meds, whatever. Hopefully things will get fixed.
And goodness, now I don't have anything juicy or interesting to say. How lame. But oh well. Just wanted to say SOMETHING.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Help Wanted
I am really struggling right now. It's been going on for months and I have been stuffing it back down. Just call me Cleopatra, Queen of Denial. I knew that once I started thinking about things I wasn't going to be able to keep the box closed. However, I'm really tired of smiling and saying everything is fine, of pretending that I feel strong and confident, and wondering if everybody secretly feels like this and I should shut up, or if things have progressed to the point that intervention would be helpful.
I'm the oldest child of two oldest children and I have the full measure of responsibility and guilt that stereotypically comes with that position. I generally feel like I need to take care of people, that it's important to make them happy, and that if I don't like it, well, things will be better tomorrow. It's more important to keep things flowing smoothly and not cause conflict than it is to say how I really feel. What would be the point of making somebody else feel bad when there isn't anything they could do to fix things? Much better for me to suffer in silence than to burden anyone with my problems.
I didn't realize the extent to which I have been doing this until I tried to mention a little of what's going on to my husband last weekend and he looked completely flabbergasted. I then mentioned that to my mom and she said "honey, you don't tell him CRAP about what's going on with you. Why is that?"
Because I love him. Because I have this weird need to keep things safe and smooth and because I'm afraid he will leave me if he finds out how badly things are falling apart. Because I don't know if he can handle it. Because he doesn't deal with stress well and his reaction always makes me MORE stressed out. Because it's always been my job to be the peacemaker. And that's why I haven't really told anyone else either.
I'm sure by now everybody in the free world has read Swistle's postpartum entry. I have felt a lot like that for about eight months now. In addition, I feel isolated and lonely and sad and strangely full of rage at inappropriate times. I imagine hitting the kids just to make them stop talking. Like the kind of hitting them that makes them fly across the room and hit the wall. I think about driving my car into oncoming traffic, or maybe just falling down the stairs on purpose. I don't want to die, I just want to hurt myself badly enough to have an excuse to lay in bed all day and not have to get up and do anything. I'm not sleeping. Food doesn't look or sound good to me, but I'm used to eating for comfort so I don't cook meals and I'm just snacking on crap. I've gained twenty pounds since Christmas. When I go to the grocery store, I feel like somebody from a third world country who's never been there before. I'm completely overwhelmed by the choices and the colors and I just wander up and down the aisles unable to make any meal decisions. Even when my mom says she's going to cook dinner I burst into tears at the thought of having to clean off the dining room table.
When I do get motivated and clean an area of my house, I feel horribly let down and extra sad about it later, because I've set this ridiculous standard of cleanliness! Look at that! NOTHING else in the house is that clean, and it never WILL BE, because I just want to lie down! It's all going to shit!
My husband and I were going to have a date on Saturday night, my mom was here to watch the kids, and about an hour before we were going to leave he got sick. The kind of stomach bug that makes it clear you're not going anywhere besides the bathroom. And I was wicked pissed. I was sure he had just done it to vex me, ruin my night, and OH MY GOD it was the ONLY thing good that was going to happen this weekend and now I might as well lay down and die because if I had to stay home with my family I was going to go ape shit and kill them. I ended up going out by myself and going over to a friend's house. Then I didn't even have fun the whole time because I just kept looking at them and thinking how easy their lives looked and how much mine sucks in comparison and HELL nobody even ASKS me how I feel!
Although if they do, I smile and say everything's fine. So why ask?
I've pretty much figured that everybody feels like this on the inside and that I'm nothing special. But eight months of it? That's a pretty long slump. I'm getting to the point that I want to go to my doctor and ask for medicine, but I'm afraid he's going to laugh at me and tell me that you don't get medicine for just having a bad day and there's no reason for it and DAMN you're stupid for even thinking you might benefit from it.
Other things: my husband started working out of town about ten months ago. His job is up in the air constantly. There's been talk of us moving, then assurances it won't happen, then the idea that he'll get laid off, then demands that we move if he wants to keep his job... I only see him on the weekends and that's a part of my problem for sure.
One of those weekends resulted in an unexpected pregnancy, which he wasn't exactly happy about at first, and then eight weeks later resulted in miscarriage and a medical D&C. I'm six weeks past that now, and just started my first post-pregnancy period yesterday.
Those things tend to make me think of course I'm sad, who wouldn't be, but it's not like I should puss out and ask for medicine. I should suck it up and deal with life and hormones and surely things will be better soon. But I'm not sure that I'll feel better on the inside even if circumstances change. And it's not just one thing, it's EVERYTHING. When I finally talked to my husband about this, he was pretty horrified, and really sad that I hadn't felt like I could tell him. He said I should get whatever help I need. He offered to quit his job and come home to be with me if that would help. He said I could hire a maid to help me around the house. He offered to let me go away for the weekend and do whatever I wanted- he said I could just check into a local hotel and read books and eat chocolate in bed if that would give me a break. He's being awesome. But I don't know if a quick fix will do it. I'm worried that it will only work temporarily and then I'll feel extra sad, like nothing good will ever happen again, and also that I'll feel guilty for adding to our financial troubles by spending frivolous money on myself.
I just don't know where to go from here. I feel like I'm falling and I will never hit the ground. I'm just in perpetual infant startle mode, surprised expression, arms flailing around, not sure what's about to happen next.
I'm the oldest child of two oldest children and I have the full measure of responsibility and guilt that stereotypically comes with that position. I generally feel like I need to take care of people, that it's important to make them happy, and that if I don't like it, well, things will be better tomorrow. It's more important to keep things flowing smoothly and not cause conflict than it is to say how I really feel. What would be the point of making somebody else feel bad when there isn't anything they could do to fix things? Much better for me to suffer in silence than to burden anyone with my problems.
I didn't realize the extent to which I have been doing this until I tried to mention a little of what's going on to my husband last weekend and he looked completely flabbergasted. I then mentioned that to my mom and she said "honey, you don't tell him CRAP about what's going on with you. Why is that?"
Because I love him. Because I have this weird need to keep things safe and smooth and because I'm afraid he will leave me if he finds out how badly things are falling apart. Because I don't know if he can handle it. Because he doesn't deal with stress well and his reaction always makes me MORE stressed out. Because it's always been my job to be the peacemaker. And that's why I haven't really told anyone else either.
I'm sure by now everybody in the free world has read Swistle's postpartum entry. I have felt a lot like that for about eight months now. In addition, I feel isolated and lonely and sad and strangely full of rage at inappropriate times. I imagine hitting the kids just to make them stop talking. Like the kind of hitting them that makes them fly across the room and hit the wall. I think about driving my car into oncoming traffic, or maybe just falling down the stairs on purpose. I don't want to die, I just want to hurt myself badly enough to have an excuse to lay in bed all day and not have to get up and do anything. I'm not sleeping. Food doesn't look or sound good to me, but I'm used to eating for comfort so I don't cook meals and I'm just snacking on crap. I've gained twenty pounds since Christmas. When I go to the grocery store, I feel like somebody from a third world country who's never been there before. I'm completely overwhelmed by the choices and the colors and I just wander up and down the aisles unable to make any meal decisions. Even when my mom says she's going to cook dinner I burst into tears at the thought of having to clean off the dining room table.
When I do get motivated and clean an area of my house, I feel horribly let down and extra sad about it later, because I've set this ridiculous standard of cleanliness! Look at that! NOTHING else in the house is that clean, and it never WILL BE, because I just want to lie down! It's all going to shit!
My husband and I were going to have a date on Saturday night, my mom was here to watch the kids, and about an hour before we were going to leave he got sick. The kind of stomach bug that makes it clear you're not going anywhere besides the bathroom. And I was wicked pissed. I was sure he had just done it to vex me, ruin my night, and OH MY GOD it was the ONLY thing good that was going to happen this weekend and now I might as well lay down and die because if I had to stay home with my family I was going to go ape shit and kill them. I ended up going out by myself and going over to a friend's house. Then I didn't even have fun the whole time because I just kept looking at them and thinking how easy their lives looked and how much mine sucks in comparison and HELL nobody even ASKS me how I feel!
Although if they do, I smile and say everything's fine. So why ask?
I've pretty much figured that everybody feels like this on the inside and that I'm nothing special. But eight months of it? That's a pretty long slump. I'm getting to the point that I want to go to my doctor and ask for medicine, but I'm afraid he's going to laugh at me and tell me that you don't get medicine for just having a bad day and there's no reason for it and DAMN you're stupid for even thinking you might benefit from it.
Other things: my husband started working out of town about ten months ago. His job is up in the air constantly. There's been talk of us moving, then assurances it won't happen, then the idea that he'll get laid off, then demands that we move if he wants to keep his job... I only see him on the weekends and that's a part of my problem for sure.
One of those weekends resulted in an unexpected pregnancy, which he wasn't exactly happy about at first, and then eight weeks later resulted in miscarriage and a medical D&C. I'm six weeks past that now, and just started my first post-pregnancy period yesterday.
Those things tend to make me think of course I'm sad, who wouldn't be, but it's not like I should puss out and ask for medicine. I should suck it up and deal with life and hormones and surely things will be better soon. But I'm not sure that I'll feel better on the inside even if circumstances change. And it's not just one thing, it's EVERYTHING. When I finally talked to my husband about this, he was pretty horrified, and really sad that I hadn't felt like I could tell him. He said I should get whatever help I need. He offered to quit his job and come home to be with me if that would help. He said I could hire a maid to help me around the house. He offered to let me go away for the weekend and do whatever I wanted- he said I could just check into a local hotel and read books and eat chocolate in bed if that would give me a break. He's being awesome. But I don't know if a quick fix will do it. I'm worried that it will only work temporarily and then I'll feel extra sad, like nothing good will ever happen again, and also that I'll feel guilty for adding to our financial troubles by spending frivolous money on myself.
I just don't know where to go from here. I feel like I'm falling and I will never hit the ground. I'm just in perpetual infant startle mode, surprised expression, arms flailing around, not sure what's about to happen next.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Internal Gauge
I don't get that many public opportunities for cussing, what with being near the kids all day and having not many places to go at night without them. And that's probably good for me- I suppose I don't need to sound like a drunken sailor ALL the time. I have a few friends that I can cuss in front of, but most of them don't do it very much and I feel like a Bad Girl when I do it. So it's gone internal.
I can gauge my mood, even when I don't feel particularly stressed or think I'm in a bad mood, by how many times I say the word fuck in my head in any given day. What the fuck. There's no WAY you have to pee again. Why are you little fuckers out of bed again? And my new favorite: What the BLEEDING FUCK do you think you're doing?
I am not even mad at them most of the time. But I can tell it's going to be an emotional eating kind of a day when I keep referring to all kids and situation as fucking objects.
I can gauge my mood, even when I don't feel particularly stressed or think I'm in a bad mood, by how many times I say the word fuck in my head in any given day. What the fuck. There's no WAY you have to pee again. Why are you little fuckers out of bed again? And my new favorite: What the BLEEDING FUCK do you think you're doing?
I am not even mad at them most of the time. But I can tell it's going to be an emotional eating kind of a day when I keep referring to all kids and situation as fucking objects.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Taking Turns
Saturday the baby woke up and I leaped out of bed quickly so my husband could sleep. I went and got him, found he had woken up his sister as well, and got up with both of them. I fixed them breakfast and hung out and my husband finally came rolling out of bed around 10:20.
Silly me, thinking he might do the same for me this morning. The baby woke up at 6:30 and cried until I poked Husband and asked him to please get up with him today since I did it yesterday. He heaved a big sigh, went and got the baby, and brought him back to bed with us. He then proceeded to turn sideways in the bed and stick his toes into my armpits and sing while he slapped Husband in the face. FOR AN HOUR. I just kept thinking sooner or later he would realize that the baby wasn't going back to sleep and maybe would go ahead and get up with him. And finally I begged. Please. Take him out of here.
To which he heaved another big sigh and told me I had five more minutes to sleep before I should get up and get the kids ready for church.
And then acted all virtuous and praiseworthy for letting me sleep half an hour.
And is now asleep on the couch because he's SO tired from getting up SO early.
Silly me, thinking he might do the same for me this morning. The baby woke up at 6:30 and cried until I poked Husband and asked him to please get up with him today since I did it yesterday. He heaved a big sigh, went and got the baby, and brought him back to bed with us. He then proceeded to turn sideways in the bed and stick his toes into my armpits and sing while he slapped Husband in the face. FOR AN HOUR. I just kept thinking sooner or later he would realize that the baby wasn't going back to sleep and maybe would go ahead and get up with him. And finally I begged. Please. Take him out of here.
To which he heaved another big sigh and told me I had five more minutes to sleep before I should get up and get the kids ready for church.
And then acted all virtuous and praiseworthy for letting me sleep half an hour.
And is now asleep on the couch because he's SO tired from getting up SO early.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Effing Kids
I have this really great friend- she's so fun and sweet and we get along great. And I can't stand her kids. Every time they come over they jump off my couch and they throw toys and they wrestle in the floor and scream at each other and don't listen to a word she says. She mostly doesn't do anything about it at all except maybe a "now, boys, settle down" kind of thing that does no good. I can tell she thinks I'm totally over-reacting because my oldest is a girl and doesn't do stuff like that, and she also thinks my boy just isn't old enough yet for the fuckwad genes to kick in, but it's inevitable that they will. So what, that means I shouldn't even try to make him behave himself, because he's a boy and all boys act like animals every minute of the day?
I try to ignore them and I just can't. Every time they do something else I visibly flinch and just wait for one of them to crack his head open on my fireplace. She never says anything to them until she can tell it's driving me crazy, and then she just laughs and says something about how now that I'm the mother of a boy I'm going to need thicker skin.
Boys may be boys, but my boy is going to have some mother-bitching respect for me and not act like a heathen lunatic in public. And what can I really do about her kids? Nothing. It SUCKS.
I try to ignore them and I just can't. Every time they do something else I visibly flinch and just wait for one of them to crack his head open on my fireplace. She never says anything to them until she can tell it's driving me crazy, and then she just laughs and says something about how now that I'm the mother of a boy I'm going to need thicker skin.
Boys may be boys, but my boy is going to have some mother-bitching respect for me and not act like a heathen lunatic in public. And what can I really do about her kids? Nothing. It SUCKS.
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