It’s dark here. All the time, sort of like being in the basement on a beautiful summer day. You know the sun is shining and that beyond these walls there is life but knowing doesn’t matter. Knowing isnt participating or living, it’s practically nothing. I’m never by myself but I am always alone. They ask how I am, am I getting any sleep yet. The answer is always the same, nope, still up every two hours. “You must be so tired.” “I am but it won’t last forever.”
No one really wants to know how I am and the ones that should want to know can’t seem to handle the truth. I’ve fainted and have been collapsing randomly and that is the tip of the ailment iceberg.
I am not a good mom right now. I yell all the time, I’m too hard on Nate and I cry in front of him all the time and it really bothers him but what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t help it. I can’t help anything, really. I know this is a two-part problem but the first is a level of exhaustion that I didn’t know you could survive. I get out of bed every two hours, change a diaper and nurse a kid, not an infant, a 18 lb 10 month old that EATS. Do you know how long 10 months really is?
The second is I appear to be under medicated. Or something. It’s a lot like before but then worse in that Nate is old enough to see it and that has to stop. And yet, I cannot stop a runaway train. I am ashamed of myself in my moments of clarity. I’m always envisioning ways to hurt myself, just enough. It’s to the point where I feel like I almost have to so someone will hear me. I’m not just tried, I’m sick. I”M SICK! I look over the railing and wonder how many bones I’d break if I just flipped over it to the floor below. I look in the toolbox for something I need and see possibilities. I take an aspirin, dump the whole bottle into my hand, contemplate, put all but 2 back and sigh heavily. I guess I’ll just keep going. I don’t think anyone gets it, this isn’t going to be fixed with a nap. The thing is a nap isn’t even a possibility and god damn that’s the least of my problems. I’m fucking up my kid by letting him see me like this. I’ve been doubling up my pills but it’s not enough, I need a new doctor but I don’t have the time to find one, I don’t have childcare, I don’t have any help. So I take two pills and hold my breath and promise Nate I will try harder tomorrow.
I just don’t know what to do. Nate is HARD right now, even on days that I feel okay he is such a handful. Ben is doing better on his reflux meds but still not sleeping but at least he’s not whining every hour he’s awake. I do think that if I were sleeping I could cope with it all better, I’d be more patient, I’d be more understanding. I wouldn’t have to remind myself that kids are people, too.
I told Mike tonight that I was going off the deep end and he just told me “we need you” I need to be needed LESS. I’m to needed, I’m tapped out, empty. I have nothing left to give. And yet I love so them all so deeply that hurts, too. I break when I yell at Nate, I don’t want to be this way. I hate myself when I squeeze his arm so hard when I push him in his room for a time-out. I don’t blame Mike for glazing over when I talk about being spent, over it, done. He looks at me and asks what I want to do. There’s no answer to that.
I want a break. I want to get away all by myself where I can sleep and recover from this. I don’t want anyone to touch me! I need to get away from the mundane day-to-day shit that is crushing my soul. But I can’t, I can’t leave I can’t do anything. I have to feed the baby, I need to move the laundry, I have a grocery list to make, a gift to ship,bills to pay,and, and, and. It never ends and it all makes driving into a telephone poll so very appealing except that would solve nothing because I’d have to handle the insurance claim.
I need a break. I need it so badly.
(please don’t call me and ask if I’m okay- I will work this out. I did it once before, I can and will do it again.)