This morning I sat there on the couch, clutching my coffee and watching L. snuggle the babies as they played on the computer. And all I could feel was sad.
What kind of mother, what kind of person, looks around at the most beautiful things her life has ever given her, two beautiful babies and a partner who loves her unconditionally (and often undeservedly so), and just feels sad? Who does that? Who is that?
I've been like this for months. My partner is probably getting sick of hearing about it. I'm sick of hearing about it. (And likely you're all sick of it creeping in between the lines). The running isn't working anymore. And I've been running - a lot.
So - my to-do list grows again:
1. find daycare
2. find job
3. learn French for PhD program (in English. Funny, yes?)
4. attempt to think of smart things to study in PhD program (which is not easy when one is mostly immersed in kid talk and dirty dishes day in, day out)
and... though I've managed to be off of them for 6 years now (6 YEARS!)...
5. call my doc and get back on some meds
Now I know perfectly well that there are all kinds of non-chemical related factors for the sad - social isolation, lack of time for myself, lack of space to think, etc. etc. blah. blah.
But I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to check off numbers 1-4 on my list if I don't check off number 5 first.
I'm hyper aware that this makes me the total cliche* 'desparate housewife.' If I threw a whole bunch of cigarettes, and some house-dresses (and possibly some speed) into the equation (oh, and a husband), I could be straight out of the 1950s.
But cliche or not - this mama isn't doing anyone any favours like this.
(And now - admissions of continuing imperfection out of the way - back to your regularly scheduled programming...)
** I know very well that cliche should have an accent and can't figure out how to do it on this keyboard.