This Sucks.

So I’m eight weeks into this whole two kids thing and I am still feeling pretty bummed out. It’s not even that I’m sad, per say, it’s that I am overwhelmed. I feel like I’m not enjoying this momentum, this time in my life, whatever it is they tell you to enjoy. I suck at organizing my days at home with the kids and I feel so isolated from my friends and everything that came before children feels like a past life.

There’s a few issues going on here, but I’ll just say it outright, I think I have Post Partum Depression and it sucks.

I don’t feel depressed, though. I feel alone and overwhelmed and exhausted and like I should feel happy and be enjoying my time with my gorgeous and amazing kids, but instead I feel like it’s too hard.

Too hard to get through days when Daddy works late and too hard to stay at home where I feel like I have to walk on eggshells all of the time. I have anxiety that Cash is going to break something or wreck something that doesn’t belong to us and that I’ll never hear the end of it. I stress out about making sure everything is exactly as it was (or better) when we ventured up from our cave in the basement, no pillow is left un-fluffed and no evidence of our existence below remains. This is how it is preferable -that has been made clear - but it makes me want to cry. In fact, it does make me cry. Ihate to cry.

I also have a winter baby this time. In the suburbs. With no driver’s license. And really crappy transit. And two kids under two. These things all basically equate to feeling like I am stuck in this place that makes me so anxious. I try to get out. I am going to a play centre every Thursday and I go to the mall way more often than I’d like to admit, but I feel like I still do it all alone. 

Even on Wednesdays, the big “Day Off” when C is home, when we aren’t going to doctors appointments or running errands we’re at home. I don’t want to be at home. Of course he wants to be at home, he is never home.

I am getting stressed out at my child and my partner. I get irritated at the. most. ridiculous things. For instance, C’s chewing, particularly pre-sleep snacks in bed. If he eats anything loudly I can most likely be found throwing a hissy fit. Not to say I haven’t thrown hissy fits in the past, I’m a Gemini with a pretty solid only-child-like upbringing and shit happens, but I am beyond recognition of myself. I can’t control my anger.

I know that I am not feeling heard. Whatsoever. I’m not feeling heard and I’m not feeling defended, so that is trickling down into other aspects of my being. I am yelling at C and yelling at Cash. My patience is fleeting and it scares me. I don’t believe in spanking or hitting within the exception of extreme measures (like “Don’t touch the stove! It’s hot!” – Touches the stove – Smacks Hand -type-measures) and I haven’t crossed those lines, but my lack of patience bothers me. It makes me feel like I could cross that line, not into a danger-to-my-kid kind of way, but a break-my-own-rules kind of way. I don’t want to use that type of discipline on my kid but I am having trouble finding the words I need these days because I am stressed and sad and overwhelmed.

So this is where I am at right now. I have been talking to friends, getting advice. I’m starting Vitamin D pills tomorrow to help with any seasonal depressive issues and I will keep trying to focus my being on patience and happiness. I am trying to find my way out of the dark. I could really use a light.