After having my daughter my libido has been in the negatives. When the husband and I finally do get around to getting down, it's been too long and I feel like I have to go through a bunch of different steps just in prevent injury. My lack of libido means that my husband is lucky to get sex once a month and extremely lucky to get it more than that. With that being said, I do go through phases of a huge peek in hormones and we'll do it every day of the month or at least damn near close.
A few days ago we managed to squeeze some time out of the day to do the deed while the kids were busy. It was so random that I didn't get to stretch before hand and ended up pulling a muscle close to my right hip. Because of the place of the pain it's moved up to my lower back. The first day it happened I went out shopping with my bestie and all the walking around and chasing after my kids made the pain in my back even worse. Bestie massaged my lower back for a brief moment and gave me a little relief (I'm sure that was fun to watch on the secruity camera in Hobby Lobby), but before we left the pain came back 10 fold. I could barely stand or sit; there was just no comfort whatsoever. She dropped the kids and I off at home and I laid in bed with my heating pad and got a lot of cuddles from my kids.
The next morning (Thusday) I couldn't even move. Husband had to come upstairs and help me get out of bed. I made my way downstairs some how but decided that I just couldn't handle it. Going back upstairs wasn't as difficult as coming down. I laid in bed for a while, it turns out that husband had called bestie and she came over just to massage my back and help me with picking up O from school.
I was able to lay there for a few hours with a little relief before the pain poured back in. I went to bed feeling worse than when I woke up and with throbbing pain all down my back and right leg.
I woke up early with the kids (because what else do I have to do?) and decided that I couldn't just do nothing all day again. I started stretching and doing yoga. It was so hard the first few poses, but then I had O come over and help me. He's 4 years old and has just enough strength to help push and pull on my back and legs when I ask. And to know how much to push and pull. I felt amazing after 30 minutes. 97% of the pain was gone and I just had a small tickle on the outside of my right hip.
Every time the pain would start to flood my back again, I stopped what I was doing and would bust out some yoga. O got to the point that he just didn't want to help anymore, so getting deep into the stretches became difficult and being a chubby female, I couldn't just do it myself. Through all of this, the only thing that has helped has been yoga.
Years ago before I even knew Husband, I was really into yoga. I would do it when nobody was around because I always felt like people were judging me (man, was I dumb). Now, I really want to get back into it and start doing it every day. I need to join a class and take care of it that way rather than just doing it at home.
Here's hoping I'm able to get my flexibility back! Use it or lose it is always 100% true. At least it is for me.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Routines: I love them! And then I hate them...
All kids do better with a routine. Mine are in no way the exception. While they love staying up late to play with friends or when visiting family, they always go from excited and happy to hating the world and wanting to be asleep two hours ago at their normal bed time.
I'm trying to be a better mom and person. It's no secret that I don't like to clean and that my son is sometimes late to school or I'm late picking him up (never really late for either, but enough that I feel guilty about it). Being a better parent and trying to grow as a person when you are depressed 85% of the time is incredibly difficult.
Depression doesn't stop me from cuddling my kids or showering them with kisses. The only difference between "GET EVERYTHING DONE" mom and "I can't function as a human today" mom is the location of said cuddling and kisses. Hugs and kisses and I love yous happen all day no matter what my mood may be. It's the one thing that even if I'm not in the mood for, I force myself to do. This is my darkness, not my children's and they need to know that even though I can't get out of bed today and I'm tired and crying a lot, their mama still loves them and still needs their love in return. YAY for co-dependency!
Back to the routine part of this post.
Because of this wonderful age of technology, I am able to mostly keep our routine in check and get through it with very little effort on my part. Smart phones and the endless list of apps that help people (even people like me) is amazing. I have a tasks app that I have set up so our daily chores can be checked off. Once checked the chore moves to the next day (or the next week/month depending on what it is). The same with bills every month. So our daily routine of cleaning the house isn't as bad as it was before I started caring about this house.
O is 4.5 years old and is excited to help when asked (most of the time), and enjoys having his list of things that needs to be done every day (or every other day depending on the chore). He feels like such a big kid when it's time for him to do whatever it is he needs to be doing.
C is only 2.5 years old and can only really care about the things being asked of her for a short period of time. She's getting better at getting everything she needs to do done, but that doesn't mean that she is loving it the same way her brother is. But he's also been doing it longer and is use to it.
O is in Pre-k and so there really isn't homework outside of singing some songs and having him practice writing out his name. Besides going to school for three hours a day, he doesn't have much to worry about. The only thing that is hard is that his class starts at 12:30pm and trying to get him to help with housework at all after school is next to impossible. So trying to squeeze in all the things that I would like him to do before school is our only option, and that is just too overwhelming for him.
Our routine is pretty standard I would say, but I've also realized that my kids are starting to let me sleep in more and more because they can get away with more stuff.
7-7:30-wake up
8-8:30-breakfast
8:45-9-kids unload dishwasher and put everything (within reach) away
9-playing in rooms
9:30-9:45-picking up living room, sweeping kitchen and taking out the trash (O does this)
10-second breakfast (yep, they eat as often as hobbits)
10:30-bathe and get dressed for the day
11-outside playtime
11:45-O gets shoes on and makes sure that his teeth are brushed before going to school (C brushes her teeth as well)
12:12- leave to take O to school
1-lunch and tea for C
1:30-2 naptime for C
3-3:20-leave to get O
4-outside play and lots of singing
5-start dinner and turn on Netflix for kids
5:30-6-dinner
6:30-7-pajamas and brush teeth
7:15-story time (we're reading Harry Potter! I'm so excited!)
And they are usually out by 8pm.
It's nothing exciting or special, but it's what has kept me from going completely grey. Everything does not always happen within the time listed above but more or less this is what our day looks like.
O does take out the trash, but we have switched our kitchen garbage can to a smaller bathroom sized can. We use plastic shopping bags in it so all I have to do is tie it off and hand it to him. He walks it outside by himself and replaces it with a new bag. In a year this chore will become C's and O will graduate to vacuuming the carpet or sweeping the floor.
So that's it. There is our day. What do you have your kids do? Do they do chores at all?
I'm trying to be a better mom and person. It's no secret that I don't like to clean and that my son is sometimes late to school or I'm late picking him up (never really late for either, but enough that I feel guilty about it). Being a better parent and trying to grow as a person when you are depressed 85% of the time is incredibly difficult.
Depression doesn't stop me from cuddling my kids or showering them with kisses. The only difference between "GET EVERYTHING DONE" mom and "I can't function as a human today" mom is the location of said cuddling and kisses. Hugs and kisses and I love yous happen all day no matter what my mood may be. It's the one thing that even if I'm not in the mood for, I force myself to do. This is my darkness, not my children's and they need to know that even though I can't get out of bed today and I'm tired and crying a lot, their mama still loves them and still needs their love in return. YAY for co-dependency!
Back to the routine part of this post.
Because of this wonderful age of technology, I am able to mostly keep our routine in check and get through it with very little effort on my part. Smart phones and the endless list of apps that help people (even people like me) is amazing. I have a tasks app that I have set up so our daily chores can be checked off. Once checked the chore moves to the next day (or the next week/month depending on what it is). The same with bills every month. So our daily routine of cleaning the house isn't as bad as it was before I started caring about this house.
O is 4.5 years old and is excited to help when asked (most of the time), and enjoys having his list of things that needs to be done every day (or every other day depending on the chore). He feels like such a big kid when it's time for him to do whatever it is he needs to be doing.
C is only 2.5 years old and can only really care about the things being asked of her for a short period of time. She's getting better at getting everything she needs to do done, but that doesn't mean that she is loving it the same way her brother is. But he's also been doing it longer and is use to it.
O is in Pre-k and so there really isn't homework outside of singing some songs and having him practice writing out his name. Besides going to school for three hours a day, he doesn't have much to worry about. The only thing that is hard is that his class starts at 12:30pm and trying to get him to help with housework at all after school is next to impossible. So trying to squeeze in all the things that I would like him to do before school is our only option, and that is just too overwhelming for him.
Our routine is pretty standard I would say, but I've also realized that my kids are starting to let me sleep in more and more because they can get away with more stuff.
7-7:30-wake up
8-8:30-breakfast
8:45-9-kids unload dishwasher and put everything (within reach) away
9-playing in rooms
9:30-9:45-picking up living room, sweeping kitchen and taking out the trash (O does this)
10-second breakfast (yep, they eat as often as hobbits)
10:30-bathe and get dressed for the day
11-outside playtime
11:45-O gets shoes on and makes sure that his teeth are brushed before going to school (C brushes her teeth as well)
12:12- leave to take O to school
1-lunch and tea for C
1:30-2 naptime for C
3-3:20-leave to get O
4-outside play and lots of singing
5-start dinner and turn on Netflix for kids
5:30-6-dinner
6:30-7-pajamas and brush teeth
7:15-story time (we're reading Harry Potter! I'm so excited!)
And they are usually out by 8pm.
It's nothing exciting or special, but it's what has kept me from going completely grey. Everything does not always happen within the time listed above but more or less this is what our day looks like.
O does take out the trash, but we have switched our kitchen garbage can to a smaller bathroom sized can. We use plastic shopping bags in it so all I have to do is tie it off and hand it to him. He walks it outside by himself and replaces it with a new bag. In a year this chore will become C's and O will graduate to vacuuming the carpet or sweeping the floor.
So that's it. There is our day. What do you have your kids do? Do they do chores at all?
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Dishes: my arch nemesis
Like just about every other human on the planet, I despise doing the dishes. It's the one chore that no matter how well you keep up on them, they always multiply and come back. Having small kids makes them multiply faster because kids seem to think that using a new cup for EVERY single different beverage, a bowl for each chip and a plate for every pancake is okay.
I also am married to a man who grew up in a house where his mother did EVERYTHING and the kids did nothing in regards to cleaning. So he will leave a plate, unrinsed next to the sink so the melted cheese, and whatever sauce was on it gets crusted and hard to get off, and sees nothing wrong with it because he's not the one who has to wash them (I'll get into the fact that he believes that a SAHP should do everything and never ask the working spouse for any type of help at all, in another blog).
All of that aside, I don't mind picking up the messes that happen in the living room or the kids' rooms because, well that's just not as hard to me as dishes. Even if their rooms are trashed, I would rather do that than wash four plates in the sink. I'm weird in the fact that I enjoy doing laundry and vacuuming. I've always liked these two chores. Vacuuming up crumbs is just entertaining! The popping sounds always make me feel like I'm actually doing something and seeing an awesome result.
Having a clean kitchen means that I'm more willing to cook and bake. I may not know very much about cooking/baking, but everything I make is pretty damn good. Old family recipes and my willingness to try new things mean that my kids almost never eat processed food. The few times that they do end up eating crap is when my kitchen looks like this:
I also am married to a man who grew up in a house where his mother did EVERYTHING and the kids did nothing in regards to cleaning. So he will leave a plate, unrinsed next to the sink so the melted cheese, and whatever sauce was on it gets crusted and hard to get off, and sees nothing wrong with it because he's not the one who has to wash them (I'll get into the fact that he believes that a SAHP should do everything and never ask the working spouse for any type of help at all, in another blog).
All of that aside, I don't mind picking up the messes that happen in the living room or the kids' rooms because, well that's just not as hard to me as dishes. Even if their rooms are trashed, I would rather do that than wash four plates in the sink. I'm weird in the fact that I enjoy doing laundry and vacuuming. I've always liked these two chores. Vacuuming up crumbs is just entertaining! The popping sounds always make me feel like I'm actually doing something and seeing an awesome result.
Having a clean kitchen means that I'm more willing to cook and bake. I may not know very much about cooking/baking, but everything I make is pretty damn good. Old family recipes and my willingness to try new things mean that my kids almost never eat processed food. The few times that they do end up eating crap is when my kitchen looks like this:
I always feel embarrassed that it gets to this point, but truthfully this is only two days of me not doing the dishes. I blame depression and the fact that I have a spouse who doesn't care about this partner's mental issues. But it's also my own laziness and inability to get past my own crap. I expect my husband to see this mountain of dishes and think "Jen probably needs help, I'll do these dishes and give her a break." because that's what I would think if the roles were reversed. But he doesn't think about me like that. And I need to stop expecting him to. So despite depression, the wonderfulness of being a woman, and having a list of other things I need to do, I'm going to go do the dishes and stop waiting for someone to help me. Because clearly that help is never going to come.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Growing up is hard to do.
Things with my husband haven't been right for a while. Earlier this year I found out that he had been talking to a female friend of his about me (things you don't tell your friends about your spouse), and then started asking her for naked pictures. They even went as far as to watch each other do stuff on the app Tango. I left for a week, and stayed with a friend. That next weekend when I was bringing my kids back to stay with him for a week, my son started crying and asked me not to leave. I just couldn't do it, so I stayed. D slept on the couch or in O's bed while the kids and I slept in the master bedroom. D and I talked about what happened and decided that seeing someone and trying to work on our marriage was the best answer to everything.
Wrong.
Things started to go back to the way they were after O was born. Dan did a lot for me back then and I did a lot for him. When he was laid off a year later things started to change and he started to treat me like a maid. He would talk down to me, give me one word answers and be an overall dick. He didn't help clean the house unless I stopped cleaning it for a few days and then he would wake up and decide that it was "sick of the mess. It's been messy and dirty for weeks now." And he would clean.
After everything happened and we thought we would work through everything, I noticed that things were started to become worse. While he stopped watching porn and talking about me to everyone who would listen, he became more harsh and just completely rude. He stopped using manners, and has said to me more than once that it's not his job to help clean the house or help in any way. He works to make money, and I should be working to do everything else at home.
He doesn't talk to, touch, or even acknowledge the fact that I'm alive unless he wants sex, food, or to know if I'm going to wash his clothes.
Needless to say, I'm just done. I can't handle whatever depression he's going through (and 100% refuses to get help for), my depression, my kids, the entire house, and be his personal cook and maid. I just can't. I love cooking and taking care of my family, but now I'm taking care of a stranger who wants nothing to do with me. How do I get out? How do I stop this? The whole reason I'm a SAHM is because 1. my depression got so bad that I just quit my job. 2. it's cheaper for me to be home with our kids, than to send them to someone else and pay them to raise them.
I'm just lost, upset and consumed by the fact that this person is supposed to be my rock and he's now my ball and chain. Not in a funny laughable way either. He's holding me back and his depression is engulfing me.
I need to break free, but I'm so scared. I'm so afraid that I'll decide to stay here so my kids have both parents and just continue to be depressed and feel like I live with a stranger, or that I'll finally get the courage to leave for good and I'll lose my kids. Or at least not see them all the time. And I'm that crazy person who wants her kids around all the time. The random sleepover once in a while is fine, but I just want/need my kids around me. If I get divorced I'll have to go through times without them and I don't think I could handle that.
Tough choices that I didn't think my life would include. So either stay and let my depression eat away at me, or leave and have my heart broken every time I have to let my kids be with him. It's a lose-lose situation and I hate that this is where my life is.
Wrong.
Things started to go back to the way they were after O was born. Dan did a lot for me back then and I did a lot for him. When he was laid off a year later things started to change and he started to treat me like a maid. He would talk down to me, give me one word answers and be an overall dick. He didn't help clean the house unless I stopped cleaning it for a few days and then he would wake up and decide that it was "sick of the mess. It's been messy and dirty for weeks now." And he would clean.
After everything happened and we thought we would work through everything, I noticed that things were started to become worse. While he stopped watching porn and talking about me to everyone who would listen, he became more harsh and just completely rude. He stopped using manners, and has said to me more than once that it's not his job to help clean the house or help in any way. He works to make money, and I should be working to do everything else at home.
He doesn't talk to, touch, or even acknowledge the fact that I'm alive unless he wants sex, food, or to know if I'm going to wash his clothes.
Needless to say, I'm just done. I can't handle whatever depression he's going through (and 100% refuses to get help for), my depression, my kids, the entire house, and be his personal cook and maid. I just can't. I love cooking and taking care of my family, but now I'm taking care of a stranger who wants nothing to do with me. How do I get out? How do I stop this? The whole reason I'm a SAHM is because 1. my depression got so bad that I just quit my job. 2. it's cheaper for me to be home with our kids, than to send them to someone else and pay them to raise them.
I'm just lost, upset and consumed by the fact that this person is supposed to be my rock and he's now my ball and chain. Not in a funny laughable way either. He's holding me back and his depression is engulfing me.
I need to break free, but I'm so scared. I'm so afraid that I'll decide to stay here so my kids have both parents and just continue to be depressed and feel like I live with a stranger, or that I'll finally get the courage to leave for good and I'll lose my kids. Or at least not see them all the time. And I'm that crazy person who wants her kids around all the time. The random sleepover once in a while is fine, but I just want/need my kids around me. If I get divorced I'll have to go through times without them and I don't think I could handle that.
Tough choices that I didn't think my life would include. So either stay and let my depression eat away at me, or leave and have my heart broken every time I have to let my kids be with him. It's a lose-lose situation and I hate that this is where my life is.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Kids and migraines
The main topic in this post will be the fact that my 4.5 year old has a migraine, but it will also be about the fact that my husband is so extremely inverted that I want to punch him in the throat on a daily basis. Does my depression play a role in that feeling? Maybe. I'm not a fancy doctor so I have no idea. Does my husband's inability to understand what is going on around him give him an excuse to be a total tool at times? Fuck. No.
My day started off like any other day. My children have no idea what the end of daylight savings means and are up at 6am every single morning now. Most of the time I can get them to go and play in their rooms and squeeze in a few extra ZZZ's before they decide that sleep is for the weak and I've had my fair share. I also take the monkeys downstairs so Dan could catch some more sleep because he works nights. See... I'm not a total bitch. I can be a giving, caring person too!
I don't remember pissing in my kid's Cheerios this morning, but everything is a fog before my first two cups of coffee, so there is a chance that it did happen. Whether it be piss or just toddler hate of everything, both of my spawn were on a roll today. Fighting, screaming, crying, kicking, punching and finally more screaming. I don't know how or why everything went from a fan spraying shit all over my morning, to quiet and peaceful, but I try not to question these things and make the most of it.
Somehow I managed to talk O and C into doing their chores and playing outside in the patio. Things were fine for most of the day. My best friend and her family came over later in the afternoon so D could look at their computer (nerd). While our husbands played, we took the opportunity toescape get some much needed food shopping and kid free time in. We were able to walk around Joann's and get food all within an hour and a half. And I think I can't manage time. Eat it, self!
We came home and I started dinner. The kids were all playing and being kids (four kids between the two families: a 6, 4.5, almost 4, and 2.5 year olds). I got about half way through dinner when O came into the kitchen complaining that his head hurt. I told him to sit down and I would look for the ibuprofen (just expecting that he needed some water and to be sitting and calm for a few minutes). Before I was even three feet from him he started throwing up and crying. Clearly this wasn't just a run of the mill child headache. I started to undress him and by the time I had gotten his shirt off he was throwing up more and it just kept coming. He was holding his head the whole time, and when my brain finally let me process everything that was happening, I realized that he had a migraine. The poor kid has the same thing happen to him that happens to me when I get migraines. Usually aura comes out of nowhere, then dizziness, extreme pressure all over my head and then vomit.
Clean clothes, an ice pack, and some cuddles and he was out. I'm not sure how he wants to be comfortable while his head feels like it's tearing itself apart from the inside, but I did everything for him that I would do for myself. Ice pack on the top of his head, head under a pillow (with a cave built in so fresh air can get to the lungs), and a blanket covering his entire body. He managed to say "thank you" after the blanket was covering him, but I don't even think he knows he said it. It was just habit.
Now to backtrack a little. After the first time O threw up, I asked my husband to go upstairs and get him a short sleeved shirt and pants/shorts because O was burning up. He came back with flannel pj pants, and a long sleeve shirt. Then while I was dealing with even more vomit he claims that I never said short sleeved, but to bring pants and a long shirt. In all honestly, I know what I said and I know every second that was happening will be ingrained in my brain forever (when you realize that your kid has the same shitty thing you have, you never forget the first time it happens), but to argue with someone whom you are not helping in any way besides getting the wrong clothes, is it really okay to place blame and start going to your inverted panic room in your head? I'm going with a big fat NO on that one.
My friend's husband offered to go to the store to get some children's ibuprofen when I realized that I had just used the last of what we had on my daughter earlier that day because she had a headache (my kids do not like the taste of ibuprofen. Not even a little bit, so for them to ask for it, I take it seriously). So J took his son (the 6 year old) with him to the store and my bestie took our girls upstairs to play while I was dealing with everything. My son climbed into D's lap and had some cuddle time while I cleaned up the vomit on the floor and cooled down. I do not handle being the only person trying to make things better for someone. I'm very supportive and can be the leader that gets shit done, but when it's all on me, I start to panic and catastrophic.
Once I cooled down and everything was cleaned up I tried to talk to D about what had happened and how it was upsetting that he just stood there while I was forced to handle everything. And while dealing with a kid who is throwing up and crying isn't a big deal, add in three other kids who are being loud and playing and wanting to see what is happening in the kitchen; it was just too much. Because D is so inverted, whenever I talk about what is bothering me or why I am upset, his only response is "yep", "cool", or "whatever". He might as well just stare at me blankly. No answer is better than sarcastic assholery.
So now I have a kid sleeping in my bed with an ice pack wrapped in a cloth diaper cover on his head.............................................................................................................and he's on my side. FTW.
My day started off like any other day. My children have no idea what the end of daylight savings means and are up at 6am every single morning now. Most of the time I can get them to go and play in their rooms and squeeze in a few extra ZZZ's before they decide that sleep is for the weak and I've had my fair share. I also take the monkeys downstairs so Dan could catch some more sleep because he works nights. See... I'm not a total bitch. I can be a giving, caring person too!
I don't remember pissing in my kid's Cheerios this morning, but everything is a fog before my first two cups of coffee, so there is a chance that it did happen. Whether it be piss or just toddler hate of everything, both of my spawn were on a roll today. Fighting, screaming, crying, kicking, punching and finally more screaming. I don't know how or why everything went from a fan spraying shit all over my morning, to quiet and peaceful, but I try not to question these things and make the most of it.
Somehow I managed to talk O and C into doing their chores and playing outside in the patio. Things were fine for most of the day. My best friend and her family came over later in the afternoon so D could look at their computer (nerd). While our husbands played, we took the opportunity to
We came home and I started dinner. The kids were all playing and being kids (four kids between the two families: a 6, 4.5, almost 4, and 2.5 year olds). I got about half way through dinner when O came into the kitchen complaining that his head hurt. I told him to sit down and I would look for the ibuprofen (just expecting that he needed some water and to be sitting and calm for a few minutes). Before I was even three feet from him he started throwing up and crying. Clearly this wasn't just a run of the mill child headache. I started to undress him and by the time I had gotten his shirt off he was throwing up more and it just kept coming. He was holding his head the whole time, and when my brain finally let me process everything that was happening, I realized that he had a migraine. The poor kid has the same thing happen to him that happens to me when I get migraines. Usually aura comes out of nowhere, then dizziness, extreme pressure all over my head and then vomit.
Clean clothes, an ice pack, and some cuddles and he was out. I'm not sure how he wants to be comfortable while his head feels like it's tearing itself apart from the inside, but I did everything for him that I would do for myself. Ice pack on the top of his head, head under a pillow (with a cave built in so fresh air can get to the lungs), and a blanket covering his entire body. He managed to say "thank you" after the blanket was covering him, but I don't even think he knows he said it. It was just habit.
Now to backtrack a little. After the first time O threw up, I asked my husband to go upstairs and get him a short sleeved shirt and pants/shorts because O was burning up. He came back with flannel pj pants, and a long sleeve shirt. Then while I was dealing with even more vomit he claims that I never said short sleeved, but to bring pants and a long shirt. In all honestly, I know what I said and I know every second that was happening will be ingrained in my brain forever (when you realize that your kid has the same shitty thing you have, you never forget the first time it happens), but to argue with someone whom you are not helping in any way besides getting the wrong clothes, is it really okay to place blame and start going to your inverted panic room in your head? I'm going with a big fat NO on that one.
My friend's husband offered to go to the store to get some children's ibuprofen when I realized that I had just used the last of what we had on my daughter earlier that day because she had a headache (my kids do not like the taste of ibuprofen. Not even a little bit, so for them to ask for it, I take it seriously). So J took his son (the 6 year old) with him to the store and my bestie took our girls upstairs to play while I was dealing with everything. My son climbed into D's lap and had some cuddle time while I cleaned up the vomit on the floor and cooled down. I do not handle being the only person trying to make things better for someone. I'm very supportive and can be the leader that gets shit done, but when it's all on me, I start to panic and catastrophic.
Once I cooled down and everything was cleaned up I tried to talk to D about what had happened and how it was upsetting that he just stood there while I was forced to handle everything. And while dealing with a kid who is throwing up and crying isn't a big deal, add in three other kids who are being loud and playing and wanting to see what is happening in the kitchen; it was just too much. Because D is so inverted, whenever I talk about what is bothering me or why I am upset, his only response is "yep", "cool", or "whatever". He might as well just stare at me blankly. No answer is better than sarcastic assholery.
So now I have a kid sleeping in my bed with an ice pack wrapped in a cloth diaper cover on his head.............................................................................................................and he's on my side. FTW.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Blogging through depression
Everyone feels sad every now and then, so there is no real "depression" right?
Wrong.
I have two beautiful children that I am lucky enough to be able to stay home with everyday and a husband who.... puts up with my awesome manic, mood swings, crazy, broken self. We have a roof over our heads, food in our fridge and a running vehicle that gets us from point A to point B. Wonderful friends who would drop everything in the blink of an eye to help when called upon. My in-laws live within a 15 minute drive from our house and spoil my children rotten.
Yet, despite all of this, waking up every morning and just going with the motions (thank Thor for motions or else my house would be 100% destroyed and my kids would need to learn to make food for themselves) takes every ounce of energy I'm able to muster. Not really being apart of my kids morning routine because the weight on my heart, mind and chest is almost suffocating, just adds to my depression. Its a lose-lose battle.
It wasn't always like this. I was a normal person with normal highs and normal lows. Then my husband was laid off from a job he had had for 10 years because he pretended to write on one of his coworkers back with a marker and was reported for sexual harassment. Two days before he was laid off, I had just found out I was pregnant with my second child. Not knowing how we were going to pay rent and bills, on top of all the emotions that come with pregnancy, I started sinking. Sinking so fast into depression that I didn't even know it was happening. And by the time I did every doctor I saw told me it was just hormones from the pregnancy mixed with the pain from the loss of my mom over a year before (its been almost four years now).
When I finally decided that I was tired of feeling this way and wanted to wake up in the morning happy and ready to answer my kids questions over and over again, I made an appointment to see my doctor and get a referral. A referral to someone who could help me understand all this pain inside. The day of the appointment I was informed that our state insurance was no longer valid and if I still wanted to see the doctor it would be $200 out of pocket. Just for a referral. I still have no idea why my husband and I don't have insurance through the state (we live in California and are low income because we only have one income so we qualified for food stamps known here as EBT, health insurance and very minimal dental because we have kids), but my children are still 100% covered. So I just try not to break any bones and not get deathly ill. If honey, coconut oil, and peach pits can't fix it, then I'm screwed because we can't afford for me to go to an ER and going to a free clinic is only possible if I have 24 extra hours just laying around.
No insurance means that my depression has been left untreated for almost two years. I'm lucky in the fact that I have so many wonderful people in my life looking out for me and that my depression isn't as extreme as my mom's was or a few of my friends. But it's still there, in the back of my mind always waiting and watching. I have way more up days than I do down, but once I'm down; I'm down. There is no getting me back up. There is a lot of yelling and screaming and crying and just hating myself for letting things get to this point. Then I wake up. The darkness washes away and I'm able to see for the first time in days/weeks. My children look so much more grown up and they seem happy that their mom was able to find her way back.
My story isn't anything special and it isn't really anything that anyone would want to read. But I wanted to start blogging my days so that other people out there can see that they aren't alone. Depression comes in so many different shapes, sizes, styles and colors that most of us believe the people around us telling us that we're just having a bad day. Its time to break this stigma and make people see that this is serious and that we are more than just lazy people who want to live off the government.
We just.... we just need you to be there for us.
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