Ha! Just reread the post title and imagined it was a coastal town in Spain.... :P
I'm not talking about more literal face-slapping. Yesterday I went to my therapist to check in and while I did discuss the struggles I've been having I also minimized a bit, sort of "sucked it in" for appearances sake, ya know?
The same thing happened when my midwife called to check in with me and again when I wrote a note to a doctor I really appreciate from a couple years back and did the same thing. Life is certainly better for me nowadays but I was painting a bit too rosy a picture and in doing so not being honest or validating myself. (This morning I ripped open the envelope, transferred the stamp to a new one, and rewrote the note to be more factual)
Then when we crawled into bed I got my usual wave of anxiety about the nighttime baby care and the hubster picked at me a bit and weasled out more frustration and sadness. Part of it was the stuff I mentioned above, some of the burden was the sadness I felt addressing baby announcements and realizing how few of the recipients I actually see or can lean on, how small my support system is, and how isolated I feel. Another layer was the physical exhaustion and discomfort, my pulled ab muscle and twinging pelvic muscles have been making life more difficult.
He tried to comfort me and get me to relax and sleep but it didn't work. He fell asleep and I was left with my thoughts. While I was able to sleep a bit there wasn't much rest for me between the runaway thoughts, aching body, and baby care. This morning he left without saying goodbye and it felt like he was fleeing the disaster scene...
I ended up with these mantras running through my head in the early morning hours during breastfeeding: "No one really wants me to die," "I don't need to cut myself," "The pain is temporary." Not exactly a lovely way to start the day but certainly better than succumbing the darkness.
That was the "slap in da face." Having such a crappy night and bad thoughts and feeling so hopeless and desperate right after I told people how well I was doing earlier in the day. I felt like a liar or at least a dense bubble head misleading herself or just a clueless loser.
I know this post is a bit disjointed, but that's how I feel! It doesn't seem like I'm quite in a backslide but without proper sleep and nourishment I definitely start losing my shit and having some negative symptoms. I'm thinking seeing the therapist for some extra support would be helpful to me even if I'm not quite in full postpartum mood disorder regalia.
In other news, I think I want to get some sort of swing for baby. The manual rocking and vibrating chair just isn't cutting it and I'm feeling overwhelmed having to spend so much time soothing him on top of the breastfeeding and burping (I swear he's so gassy the burping takes the most time!) but something as simple as getting a swing (a pretty commonplace baby item as far as I an tell) has been wreaking havoc on me.
I feel ashamed and guilty for "giving in" when I didn't want to spend the money or "cut corners" with my baby care. But then I think about being home alone and all the lonely hours awake at night not sleeping while I rock the baby I can't comprehend keeping this up. I also think about how unnatural parenting has become with fathers and mothers handling everything on their own without a "village" of support and I don't feel so bad about utilizing modern "cheats." That said, I still feel the shame and guilt.
I've been getting more frustrated with (or at) baby which breaks my heart. I feel like I don't get enough of a break between feedings and the entire day just feels like one long feeding strung together, just taking a shower or going to the bathroom seems like a feat. I'm able to enjoy some feedings but others I just end up crying or grumbling at baby or moaning/groaning/growling out of frustration... It makes me really sad.
I'm still getting by but seems like I'm barely able to keep my head above water...
I think it's time to stop thinking about all this and do some more puzzles. Maybe some time with "The Girls" as well.
One hour at a time.