Sunday, May 8, 2011

mother's day

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. 


  1. It was a year ago that I decided to stop being a goddamn basket case and go see my doctor.

    Look. Your mental state isn't related to the amount of happiness in your life. When your brain chemistry is messed up, you can no more control it than a diabetic can control the insulin levels.

    You need help.
    You've admitted it.
    Now go. Take care of it.

    And because I wrote about this recently... using some of the same ideas, actually, here's an excerpt.
    "I am fairly even these days.

    The preceding bit of political rant aside, my crazy has mostly been medicated into submission.

    I resisted the clear fact that I needed help with it for a long time.

    It's shame, more than anything. Even though what my doctor said to me is completely true. She said, "If a diabetic comes to me and cannot regulate his or her blood sugar, I give them medication to help them balance that. You are not able to regulate your chemistry any more than they are. That's why we have medication."

    So I take the medication.
    And occasionally read back over the diary I kept at the beginning. I was having such a horrible time. And all the gut wrenching and awake all night obsessing are just... gone for the most part. However, sometimes, despite the fact that I'm on enough medication to make a horsie happy, I can still wake up and worry. But I can usually go back to sleep and wake up calm.

    Impossible before the meds.

    It's not related to happiness, people. Otherwise I would definitely not need the assistance."

    So yeah. And when I was reading your post, the first thing I thought of was that the last thing on your list really needed to be the first one.

    Go. Take the meds.

  2. I'm very happy to hear that it appears as though you know exactly what you need. It takes guts to admit it, and yeah, you're very right about not being able to accomplish what you want to accomplish without treating the problem. Best of luck to you... I know this all too well.

  3. If starting with number five gets you in a place to be able to do numbers 1,2,3 and 4 then it sounds like a good plan. Best of everything with this.

  4. What Ami said! I was in the same mind a few years ago, number 5 works to fix the seratonin balance until you start producing your own again.
    Good it soon :)

  5. two years ago I sat and sobbed in my doctors office, like literally sobbed, and apparently thats not normal. There I was , thinking I was a complete flake who had lost the ability to be a good mom / friend / general human being, when on the face of it I had nothing to be unhappy about. what WAS my problem exactly...loving hubby, two adorable kids, etc etc

    I was told, "if you broke your arm, you'd get it fixed, right? So right now, we need to fix how you're feeling emotionally" I was prescribed medication and got together with a mental health coordinator to see how else I needed help. I'm way better now, even though I do still have my not so great days, as a lot of the factors surrounding my meltdown can not change significantly overnight.

    get number 5 in the works, thats the least you owe to yourself.

    and while we are talking cliches (cliche-ehs?), where's my martini at, girl?