It's been quite awhile since I've blogged, and I felt the need for a really honest "Come to Jesus" blog post. I spend 90% of my time taking care of a spunky 8 month old and trying to maintain a good marriage. All while trying to work, not be fat, and keep it all together. Life is busy! But I'm finding my groove these days. I miss writing. And tonight I have some peace and quiet to myself while the little one sleeps and before J gets home from work.
I will note that this is something I've wanted to write about for awhile, but have been scared to death to do it. I am completely baring my soul right now and it's frightening as crap, but, here goes!
I feel like there are times in your life where you feel like you're letting everyone down. Motherhood is one of those times. What becomes your new normal feels so abnormal because you live your life in this little box that doesn't include happy hours or pedicures or long naps by yourself anymore. It becomes this whirlwind of not sleeping, feeding and loving a tiny little life form that depends on you for so much. And at times, you just feel suffocated. You feel like your girlfriends call or text you and that you should reply, but you just can't. Your husband looks at you with one eyebrow raised when you go check on the baby for the 10th time in an hour. And you can't bring yourself to admit that's crazy. You walk into a room filled with your loving family and you cringe on the inside when your child is passed around. You feel the eyes on you and feel the disappointment in your soul on how you're handling yourself like an escaped mental patient.
I had a real wake up call with myself about some anxiety that started creeping into my life right around Thanksgiving this year. I didn't notice it at first. I started sleeping less even though my sweet girl slept through the night from 7-6 most days. With the occasional pacifier plea at 4 in the morning. Now she's big enough to just pop it right back in! I started checking on her in this insane "let me make sure she's breathing" way after not really worrying about it for months. I drank coffee all day long. Morning and afternoon. I was angry at everyone and everything. The smallest thing like a piece of dirt on the carpet would send me into a vacuuming frenzy and a stare down my whoever traipsed it in my house. I lived in my leggings and baggy shirts and felt like it took all of my energy to just get up most days.
When I wasn't around the baby, I felt like the walls were closing in. Even though I knew she was in good hands with grandparents or daycare, I was constantly worried. I quit seeing my friends and when I did, I was one text message away from getting up and heading home because I just did not want to be away from her. I protectively watched her when people like my own mother held her. Needless to say, I felt crippled and not like myself at all. The sparkle from my smile was gone and I felt like a flabbier, more anxious version of myself with an anger management problem.
I finally realized after a crippling weekend of not even being able to drive that I needed professional help. I saw my doctor. I found a support group. I started talking to complete and total strangers that didn't even know me but that understood what I was going through. I didn't feel depressed nor did I want the label of post partum depression put on me, but I did not feel like myself. I learned that everything I felt, the rage, the intense need to feel perfect, was all totally normal. I made a list of things I wanted to do again and started doing them. Jarrett realized that it's important for me to get away and have breaks. I have an amazing support group of mommy friends that have all told me how much they support me in getting the help I needed. I changed my diet and started to take better care of me, not just everyone around me. I bought jeans that fit and decided to stop air drying my hair in a mess of waves without any sort of style. I slowly started to feel like myself again.
It's been almost 3 months since I started my journey to feeling whole again. I'm not perfect and I still mess up. The biggest thing that I've learned in getting help is that I'm no longer sorry for being myself. I've learned to stop apologizing for my shortcomings and just keep going. I'm not sorry for things like shopping for 2 hours alone and having a moment to myself to feel like a person again. I'm not sorry for all of those missed texts or texts I thought I wrote, but I didn't. They'll get to you somehow. I'm not sorry for telling people that their comments make me anxious and to let me parent my way. I'm not sorry for stopping breastfeeding after a month and not trying harder, because it physically wasn't possible for me. It was the best thing for my child. I'm not sorry that some days, I take my child to daycare first, and then come home and get ready alone. I'm not sorry that I leave work at 4:30 most days and have time with my daughter that requires complete focus on her and not on my inbox. I'm not sorry for planning a vacation in a few months that involves only my husband, because we need a chance to be just the two of us again and not just Netflix and chill. Most of all, I'm not sorry for staring down my fears and facing them head on. I feel like so many people go down the rabbit hole of insecurity these days only to be crippled and never recover. I don't want to live in a world where I feel scared. nor do I want my daughter to feel scared because she sees that fear in me. That is not the way I want her to grow up. I want her life to be an adventure in being an independent and pretty cool person.
Much love to all of you out there that struggle with anxiety, depression, or just anything that throws a wrench in your life. Get the help you need, let your friends be your sounding board, but most of all, learn to love yourself. You just might see how amazing your are.
