Number of Births: 1
Child: 7 Months Old
i’ve posted before, but not on a topic as specific as this. so, no pictures this time– just a story that i’m hoping some other women can relate to. not exactly the happiest, but i’ve found that people find comfort in relating with others, regardless.
it took me weeks to figure out that something just wasn’t right after i had my son. it wasn’t him, it was myself. it was the way i was acting, my feelings, my stress levels. it just wasn’t normal. i didn’t think it was a problem until i did a little research and came to the conclusion that i might have post-partum depression. it took one morning of me feeling like i was going to snap, crying and begging my fiance to help me, to stay home from work just ONE day to give me a break, that i couldn’t take it anymore. my son had been up practically all night, he was screaming, nothing could console him. i was at the end of my rope, and he just left. nothing he’s ever done hurt me more than him doing that to me that day. i literally told him i was afraid that i was going to do something terrible, and he just left us. he told me it was because he “had a responsibility to be to work” and he “couldn’t just leave them short-staffed”. and, stupid me, here i was thinking, “you have a responsibility to protect your baby and to make sure your fiancee is OKAY.” i was not okay that morning, nor was i okay in the weeks that led up to that. he ignored it. i am still holding a grudge from that, and i’m aware of it. but as many times as i’ve tried to talk to him about it, he shuts down and just acts like it’s nothing he cares to hear. (don’t get the wrong impression of my fiance, though. he’s an amazing, loving, providing father and a good man.) so i stopped trying to talk to him about it. i made an appointment to go see my doctor that day. i got put on anti-depressants but it’s still lingering some days and there’s been times when i went without it longer than i should have…. i know now that i really do NEED those pills. it’s like i’m completely hopeless.
i don’t want to do anything some days. and by that, i mean all i want to do is just sit and do mind-numbing things like browse facebook and pinterest and watch shows. i don’t want to do laundry, i don’t want to clean the house, i don’t want to do the dishes, i don’t want to do anything productive. there’s even some days where i don’t want to interact with my son. it breaks my heart, because i know i should cherish every minute of it, but sometimes i just put a movie on and let him be. i’m so envious of the mothers who can fill their day with being super mom’s. it’s like they can do it all, with a smile on their face, and love every minute. that’s not me right now. i can barely force a smile on my face when something is funny. it’s just… fake. it’s not even a matter of me feeling sorry for myself as it is me just feeling hopeless about things.
my fiance acts like i’m doing all of this on purpose. he tells me “why don’t you make plans with your friends? why don’t you do this? why don’t you go somewhere?” i don’t want to interact with people. i have no desire. no energy. i don’t want to have to get myself ready to go anywhere. i don’t want to try and push out conversations when everything i want to say is negative and depressing. no one wants to be around someone like that. i never have a vehicle to leave the house, even if i wanted to. i don’t answer my phone 99% of the time because i don’t want to talk. even when i do try to reach out and talk to my friends, i have nothing to say. i do nothing all day, i have no news to share. i want to start working and go back to school, but i don’t want to be around anyone. a big part of that is that i gained so much weight from starting birth control, being home all winter with no way to exercise and “boredom eating”, and now my comfort and source of being not so bored is cooking and baking. it takes up time, it’s one of my hobbies, and i get to eat it after. my entertainment used to be going out, shopping, school, friends, and being too busy for much else. i literally will spend so much time some days just looking back through my old pictures and seeing how tiny i was, how beautiful and full of life i was. i was funny, i was fun, i was happy. now, i see a fat, very unhappy, very hopeless person and i just can’t see that light at the end of the tunnel. it’s not that i don’t want to, because i so desperately do, but i just don’t see a change happening in me.
i feel like i’m wasting my son’s memories (my memories of him, i mean) as a baby. i feel like i’m preventing him from learning, experiencing, and being a happy fulfilled baby because of myself. i feel like i don’t remember the past 6 months. i feel like it’s been a blur that i just slept through or got into such a routine that it became automatic and every day felt exactly the same. i feel so incredibly guilty, every day. i should be taking him outside, i should be rolling around on the floor playing with him, i should be reading to him so much every day, i should be doing so much more. i just don’t have it in me.
i don’t talk to anyone for entire days at a time. i bug my fiance at work all day asking him when he’ll be home, praying that he’ll be out earlier. i get so, so mad at him when he tells me a certain time and i practically wait at the window, watching for the car to pull in, and he doesn’t get home until two hours later because he had to stay later and didn’t tell me. instead of telling him that i’m upset because i was excited to see him, excited to have someone to talk to, i get mad at him for it because it feels so cruel to me. but he doesn’t know that i’m just desperate for adult interaction. i have no one to talk to, all day long. i have nothing to do, and it makes me feel worthless. i just wish he would understand that all i want is some support and for HIM to understand. i tell him “i wish you knew what it was like. i wish you could be in my place for a few weeks so you could understand how difficult it is. he doesn’t factor in my depression, because he acts like it’s non-existent. he gets mad and says “well i have to actually work” and makes me feel like me staying at home and mothering our child is a vacation while he’s doing all the “important” stuff. it makes me feel, again, worthless. and then when he tells me “well why don’t you get a job” in a degrading type of way, it makes me feel like i’m lazy, like i’m reliant on him for everything. but the fact is, no matter how badly i want to get back to the old me, i don’t want to be around people. it scares me. it makes me so unbelievably uncomfortable. and he doesn’t…get it. nor does he act like he cares to. it’s so hurtful to me and so frustrating and it’s the cause of so many of our fights. if he would just open up to me and TRY to understand, it would make things so much easier. i wouldn’t have to hide my feelings with anger and yelling and frustration. i could just TELL him, this is what’s wrong, and this is why. but i can’t. and it’s really making things a million times harder for me to have the one person i should be able to tell everything to not wanting to hear it. why don’t i deserve respect and support?