Monday, June 29, 2015

Busy Weekend

Busy weekend and still this stupid heat to contend with, it's so exhausting.

Friday we drove down to my parents so I could see them before their big trip (2 weeks driving to MN for a tennis thing and driving back). It was exhausting, a very difficult drive down with the babe and a quick turn around. Also exhausting was my mother's passive aggressive behavior regarding my new boundaries and hanging out with our mutual friend. Anyways...

Friday was drive down, Saturday was drive back up for a quick turn-and-burn to a birthday party in Seattle from which we didn't get home until 10ish, Sunday we finally finished emptying out the old apartment and wrapped that up.... Just so tired!

Been feeling guilty for the boundaries I've set with my mom and sister and for distancing myself, but I'm not distancing myself from friendly waters, I'm distancing myself from energy leeches and I have to keep my foot down and make the change happen!!!

Yes. I am so warm right now I can't even blog straight. Hoping the hubster will go for a walk with me to coffee house for chilling out time... or that the new portable AC unit he ordered works fast.

Either way, I'm declaring NOW beer thirty.


PS Mood okay, just some stress :)

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Happy Momma, Happy Baby

Met up with my friend for Cheesecake Factory and a mall walkabout today. Hit traffic but worth it!

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Some Firsts

Today was a day of firsts...

1) I walked from our new place to the library.

This was pretty enjoyable if not pretty tiring. The route involved some main street time but for the most part was a wooded trail and some reduced speed Town Center areas. I packed a sandwich and some drinks and the babe was well behaved for our entire 3 hour outing. Part of that involved me sipping an espresso and some seltzer water at a local cafe while doing a page of puzzle I tore from my book. I didn't complete the puzzle, but I got pretty close and had fun relaxing with Baby and practicing sitting and standing.

2) I dun broked my phone.

It fell outta the diaper bag and while I thought the back popping off was the extent of the damage, apparently I hit a shatter point. Amazingly the touch screen worked fine and I could text just the same and everything else! No clue when I'll get a new one. Don't particularly care. I'd been angry at my phone for a while, dysfunctional and misdirected anger really, it became a scapegoat for the lack of communication from family and friends... Guess that negative energy coalesced into something physical?

3) I caulked a mother-f*cking tub.

It ain't perfect but it's pretty good and I'm durn proud. The hubster was having some issues and for the 3rd attempt at re-caulking the tub tagged me in. Re-re-caulk = done.

All in all, it was a pretty good day. Not many people can say that when it involves the breaking of a smart phone, but being a bit of a technophobe it's a pretty minor blip on my radar.

In other news, some of the texting done today was with my mother. She neglected to ask how I was even after I dropped a "I hit the skids again this week" so I sassily texted, "I"m feeling a bit better now by the way."

She managed to ask some questions and tell me what everyone else has been saying-expand your social support. She also mentioned quitting Facebook, as my sister doesn't do it, tried for a few minutes again last week and says "no way." Like I give a f*ck. I told her it's the closest thing I have to friends a lot of the time, which is true. Facebook and a bloggin' buddy or two. I think it's obvious that the blogosphere is the superior resource. Very much so.

So my mood is all right today. I think the extra physical activity had a boosting effect and I'd rather be a bit manic right now than depressive, so I'm not gonna fret too much about being too high as long as I'm not too low.

OH! And I introduced myself to a group of moms in a local Facebook group today :) Baby steps.... Not involved in any meetups yet, but thinking Friday or next week I'll make the leap.

Thank you to my blogging buddies, whoever out there is reading, and especially to my one consistent commenting buddy, I really REALLY appreciate it.

Things haven't been easy or smooth lately, but I'm hanging in there and gonna keep trying.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Tues Evening

Touch and go today. Spent the morning in bed doing puzzles between dozing and taking care of Baby. The hubby came home early (noon) with fast food. I was super hungry as I'd only had some cereal that morning so despite not having an appetite I devoured the burger.

This afternoon was slow going. I spent more time in bed but managed to shower around 4ish? We ran some errands and then came home for dinner. I turned on my phone (it had been off all day, the hubbo wasn't so thrilled about that having read my morning post and not being able to contact me, but I digress) and found a text from my mom.

No intro, just leaped right into talking about my sister and how she's having a boy and sending her some clothes we had found for her a while back. We hadn't spoken or texted since the news broke (apparently I found out a couple days after everyone else, seems to be a trend) but she just went right there, didn't ask me how I've been or anything. Pissed me off.

I'm still struggling to intercept the suicidal/self harming thoughts and try to troubleshoot instead of bottoming out (obviously) but I think I made a little progress, I was at least aware of the thoughts being a stress reaction.

I'm having a hard time getting up the gumption to leap into a moms group or online forum or Facebook group. I think it's the social anxiety and fear of rejection or soaking up others' emotions, a bunch of stuff I guess! Somehow I will just have to try a few things and hope I find some good people... Right now it feels like more trouble than it's worth but I need something to change and I don't think I can trust my brain's opinion all that much at the moment.

My Morning Mind

Woke up this morning and it didn't take long before I was thinking of bad things. Repeating images of me hanging or a bullet going through my head or drowning myself in a tub or cutting myself. I even imagined buying straight razors at the store.

All these negative images aren't fun and are no help, no solution.

Yesterday was bad. I cried so much throughout the afternoon my eyes were swollen this morning. I half-expected the hubster to stay home from work but when I woke up this morning to a screaming baby he wasn't here. Can't say I blame him. I know that he has obligations and that he supports our family but on days like this it feels like he goes to work to escape me.

Also stuck in my head in that song from "The Wedding Singer," the one where half was written pre-breakup and half post? I even see Jon Lovitz in my mind saying, "she's losing her mind, and I'm reaping all the benefits...." Only I'm not sure what benefits he sees.

So angry. Angry at my sister, my mother, my situation, the world. Feel so betrayed and abandoned, yet also feel like I don't deserve any better. Basically, life sucks. Life sucks and it's nothing new, and I'm getting sick of this new normal.

Monday, June 22, 2015

And Things Get Worse

Found out my sister is having a boy.

Accidentally deleted the last picture I had with Iroh.

As if I wasn't feeling shitty enough.


Crying this afternoon and feeling hollow again. I knew that things wouldn't change when I had a kid, that I wouldn't miraculously have more friends, my family wouldn't magically be more supportive, basically, things wouldn't change. I accepted that. What I didn't realize was how much I would need them to change, that the same ole nothin' wasn't going to cut it. Here I am with the same ole nothing and I'm breaking apart.

I feel so lonely. I feel like I'm never going to connect with a new group or find friends or develop a support network, that I'm always going to be struggling to find the support I need. I also feel resentful of my family and the few friends that I think I have for not being there for me, for being hard to connect with, for not realizing that I need support or just not being able to give it. I also feel angry with myself for not figuring this out, for not trying more things and being more proactive, but I also realize that when I'm barely able to feed myself doing new things probably isn't going to happen.

It sucks. I know that I love my son but right now I feel like I made a mistake, that I horribly underestimated the difficulties of parenthood and that I threw the life that I barely had put together on the fire when I decided to get pregnant. I mean, I was just getting into a healthy regimen and a good mood streak when we decided to up the ante, and now I feel like I'm slipping back into a "barely holding on" type of existence.

It's not fun clinging to the edge of a cliff. It hurts, it's terrifying, it's lonely.

Baby is wailing. Time for a feed. Maybe I'll get my shit together another day, but today is just survival mode.

Monday, Monday, Monday

Here we go, another new week.

This morning was tough getting out of bed. I think all my sleepless (or not sleeping well) nights added up and the exhaustion caught up with me yesterday. I fell asleep sitting up on the couch while the hubby was in the shower when I was supposed to be making a sandwich. I was really hungry and really tired and the tired won out.

Despite the nap I was still super tired by bedtime and Baby wasn't goin down easy. Thankfully the hubster had some energy and patience when I did not and I nodded off after some puzzles.

I think the biggest culprit is Baby's recent sleep regression back to "up every 3 hours" instead of sleeping a good 6 straight at night. I hope he switches back soon...

In other news, we're still only 99% moved in but planning to wrap it up this evening. Just a little bit of stuff left at the apartment to move and a few things to ditch. The help we got from my parents and a couple family friends was awesome, moving the  majority of the stuff in one day last Monday but we still had a few carloads worth not to mention a ton of crap to throw out.

A minor moving mood foot note, I was upset by my mom brushing me off when I asked her to come up and watch the baby so I could move stuff in later last week. I knew she would be tired and it was a lot of driving but I've been told time and time again "we're here for you" and "tell us what you need." So I do and what happens? She blows me off to drive back to Cheney to help my sister. Nice. I guess barely 6 months pregnant trumps a 3-going-on-4 month old. Shocker. Maybe I was right when I said my sister didn't steal my thunder, she stole Baby's?

On a related note we were down in Seattle this weekend to meet up with the hubster's mom and her best friend C. It was a wonderful visit, even if a little unscheduled (we just wandered aimlessly around Seattle Center trying to come up with something to do but just ended up wandering). As nice as it was it was a little sad when C asked if my mom was as over-the-moon with Baby as the hubster's mom. My face fell and I said, "Well, not so much. My sister got pregnant just as he was born so her focus has been on that." Or something like that. Whatever I said it was heartbreaking and I felt my mood retract and my heart shudder.

Anyways. Time for Baby's morning diaper and feed (well, the 2nd or 3rd this morning) and then I'm off to the lab to get my blood drawn for another thyroid check and then off to therapy and maybe a walk. I've been stuck in this apartment way too much lately.

PS Screw the summer heat. Hubbo said next 2 weeks may be a doozy. FFFFFFFFFFFF

Friday, June 19, 2015

Too Funny!

Check out the hubster's picture taking skills! Mid spit up!

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Little Engine That Could

I only vaguely remember the children's story "The Little Engine That Could" because that memory was overwritten by the memory of Damon Wayan's retelling of it in "Major Payne" many years ago. While my images of rosy cheeked train engines remain they are reliably interrupted by images of warfare of and "Bubba, ya ain't got no legs!" Not terrible, it always makes me giggle in a sick way, but there it is.

Today was a "just keep chuggin'" kinda day.

Last night I had a hard time sleeping and while I started to get anxious worrying about how the following day would go because of the lack of sleep, I let it go and did the best I could. I did manage to get the baby back into his bassinet instead of hogging my side of the bed and once the hubbo went to work there was enough room to sleep/nurse for the early morning BUT the babe peed a TON and wet through his diaper, two layers of clothes, and onto our sheet and foam topper. I don't think it went further than that, but it was quite the surprise for me this morning.

I felt myself getting overwhelmed and upset, I already had a  lot of laundry to work through with a half-sized laundry machine, but I accepted it, decided to just do what I could and stop worrying. I just chugged along doing this and that and making my way through my day as best I could and it worked. I'm not an image of relaxation but I ain't bottoming out, so I think that's pretty swell.

Still feeling tense, hoping to get out for a walk soon. The hubster and I have been pretty housebound since Monday with our free time going to quick, emergency shopping trips or errands at the old apartment. We still have some stuff there to move and the cats to take care of... Not looking forward to taking them to the shelter but I think it's best for all and that we'll feel better in the long run.

Iroh is such a fabulous cat. Even though we moved out and it's been so stressful he's still his chipper, old self. Whereas Millie has already got the wide-eyed, "who are you, foul creature?" look to her. The sad feelings will pass. I know it's a lot easier not having litter boxes and extra mouths to feed and water, just these past few days without the cats at the condo have been great-and no Iroh hair fluffs all over the carpet!

Baby is doing well. More easily distracted during feedings and we're struggling to buckle down and commit to a schedule (I'm terrible at establishing a schedule unless it's tied to TV programming) but he's learning to sleep in his crib and I think we're slowing transitioning to something of a new normal, just don't know what'll be like exactly yet.

Speaking of TV programming, I haven't had the TV and big computers here all week and it's been pretty nice. I'm hoping that I have the willpower to keep the electronics off once they are moved over and hooked up. The quiet "life noise" is more soothing than TV series I obsessively plow through or songs with lyrics I try to decode, all in all more work for my brain that I don't need and that stresses me out if even on a very small level.

That said I've still watched a few Price is Rights on the lappy and a "Comedian in Cars Getting Coffee." I ain't going total techphobic!

Well, time to wash the baby's tummy time mat. It's practically a slice of cheese now with all the spit ups he's managed to smear into it.

Also, a little note: Feel better Birdie :) but don't feel bad about feeling bad, math is a cruel nemesis for many of us and in my experience, very adept at poking and deflating a mood balloon when one is feeling vulnerable! Math + Math = #(*&^*!(!*(#$% squared or whatever. Hang in there, I hope you find your light again soon :)

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Pretty Good

Moved in (well, 98% moved in) and getting down to life again. Still some sorting and unpacking and constructing to do, but doing pretty well.

I had therapy and missed half the move and took care of Baby for the rest of the move so I wasn't too tuckered out like the hubby. It worked out great, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to unpack anything that first afternoon! So, he did the hard work with some family friends and my parents and I have taken charge of settling us into new place.

Had some leftovers for lunch and now I'm filling my pill planner while watching a TPIR rerun. Mood has been pretty stable and good lately, hoping to keep it that way.

We interviewed a postpartum doula and she gave us some great advice and resources for childcare and mommy groups since she thought that would help me more than a doula right now. Looking into it and looking forward to a bright new normal.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

At least it wasn't sunburn

Coming home now. Graduation was soooo hot. The hubster and I slathered each other in sunscreen and packed the babe in on a front pack but by the time we made it to the stands and settled in we barely lasted 10 minutes in the sun.

I was sweating like a pig and nearly drained all our water lickety split then I got nauseated. The baby wasnt happy either, we tried to nurse him and get him to sleep but we were all too warm. We egressed to the a shade tent by the EMTs and the hubby went back for the strolller.

I spent bout half of graduation getting my feet back under me with more water and a snack, the rest we did baby care under the shade behind another set of stands. I did manage to walk over and stand below my family and cheer with them as my sister walked.

After it was over we had a blessedly quick exit and washed up for dinner. The change of clothes I brought came in real handy.

I still dont think my sister and her baby daddy are a great match and since he said something shaming about my breastfeeding the hubster likes him even less. The hubster thinks they are gonna get chewed up by postpartum, and I cant say I disagree. It's so much harder than you think and if you were squeamish!? I cant imagine...

Saturday, June 13, 2015


Halfway through the weekend, nearly to Cheney for my sister's graduation. Anxious but feeling a little more resilient than last weekend.

Spent a good afternoon and morning at my in-laws, very restful and relaxing though not so much on the actual sleep. Baby decided to wake up middle of the night and be playful, lots of nursing-to-sleep last night!

We shall see how the afternoon goes... If we all come away without sunburn I will feel accomplished.

Baby sunhat protocol=engaged.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Almost There

It's Thursday. I'm almost there, almost to the end of the week. Not that the week or specific days means much it just feels safer when I make it to the weekend, when the hubbo gets home and I'm not "hanging in there" on my own.

This week was different. After Sunday being as rough as it was the hubster worked from home Monday and my mom came up that afternoon and stayed most of Tuesday as well, then my dad came up Wednesday afternoon. Not only was it helpful having extra hands to hold baby or help out it was grounding having people around.

It's weird, it feels like a good thing/bad thing that having other people around makes me "suck it up" a bit. On one hand it's a negative because I minimize my struggles and hide my pains, on the other it's a pro because it prevents some wallowing. Even if it's bad and good it doesn't matter, it helped me get through the week without major issues. No self harming, no suicidal thoughts. Still had some harming Baby thoughts but not nearly as many or as intense and still had anxiety and issues sleeping but it's getting better. We've adding half a melatonin to my regimen and that seems to help.

In other news, we've moved the moving day up to Monday instead of later in the month. I'm still anxious about moving and sorting and cleaning and if we'll like the new place and coping with feeling unsafe. Not that our new place is any safer or less safe than this apartment, it's just strange and new and it feels scary to me. I'm assuming I'll normalize, it'll just take time. I don't think there is any legitimate reason to be afraid otherwise the hubster wouldn't have rented it!

So, I'm doing all right this week. Caught up in a boatload of supplements, herbal teas, compresses, self care, and baby care but doing better with it all. I'm still worried for the future. We're looking into postpartum doulas, which seems like it would be helpful and a relief but also worries me a bit because of the money.

Not looking forward to traveling and social stuff this weekend for my sister's graduation. I'm wondering if basking in her pregnancy drama is going to have ill effects on me but I also think varying our routine might be a good thing. Hitting the road in measured doses is usually good for me, too much stress can make it have the opposite effect though... So we'll see.

Wish this friggin heat would subside. Running the fans all day is make my nose run a little much for my taste.

Monday, June 8, 2015


The hubster had quite the day yesterday taking care of me and Baby. I was able to feed and watch Baby a little but he was main caretaker nearly all day. I recovered my balance a little for the evening and we were able to go for a walk. It was actually a little out of order my perk up in mood....

Usually I break down and we talk things out then go for a walk or "get back on the horse" trying to take care of me but this time I asked if we could go for a walk and felt lighter and started talking without a break down. I had him read a journal entry and a blog entry and he got to open up about how he's been feeling.

It was heart wrenching but good to hear his perspective (great even). He isn't always that expressive but sometimes he comes up with some wonderful turns of phrase. He said that day he had been mourning me, that when the darkness comes it completely erases the real me, I disappear, it's like a mini coma. It's not just a bad mood where I'm still Hannah, it's night and day and I'm not myself. He was so sweet emphasizing that in these times I'm not myself and that I can't feel bad for what I think and do because I'm not myself, it's not the real me.

He opened up about feeling wore out and clarified that while he hadn't been talking about my self harm or the mood dip it was because he doesn't like to bring it up when I have a good day and talking about it while I'm down isn't always helpful, so sometimes he just bites his tongue and waits for a more stable tine to discuss things.

He also mentioned that he had texted my mom. He had asked what her schedule was for the week and if she could come up as I was having some mental health issues. She responded with a lot of excuses and odd references to my neighbors, recommending I go down there with the Baby and sit with some neighbors. Not helpful and no inquiries into how I was really doing or how bad things were. Not surprising but definitely disappointed him. As many times as she will say "I'm always there for you" her idea of support can be hit or miss.

Surprisingly though my dad called while we were out on our walk. He and the hubster talked for several minutes about the state of things and eventually the hubster handed the phone off to me. The second I heard my dad ask, "Haven't been feeling too well, eh?" I broke into sobs. Thankfully we weren't in a super exposed part of the walk but it was still a public break down!

We talked for quite a while and even though my father still has a hard time understanding what my illness is really like and how mental illness works he listened and tried to be supportive which was helpful. I think part of him still sees mental health as a thing of willpower and thinking about this made me want to type out a hypothetical letter to him...

Dear Dad,

I know it's hard for you to understand my sickness. I know it seems like something I should be able to beat and make disappear, something that I should figure out how to fix and keep fixed but it doesn't quite work that way. You may even think that it's a question of personal strength and that my relapses are due to a weakness in character, a lapse in discipline, or laziness-I sometimes think this myself-but that's not how it works. Sometimes I can avoid the pitfalls, but other times it's just a storm passing over me... It's complicated.

Sometimes I have regular ups and downs like "normal" folk. My emotions are reasonable, my reactions modulated, my mind and judgement is sound. But when I have an episode or a relapse my brain becomes hijacked by the disease. My logic is corrupted and rational thinking becomes nearly impossible. All my knowledge, experience, and wisdom is overwritten by a mental virus-sometimes it's a hypomanic virus, sometimes a depressive virus. 

When the hypomania hits I feel overly positive, make rash decisions, think that I can do much more than is reasonable, feel so jazzed I only sleep for 4 hours each day (I normally need 8-10 hours of sleep). Sometimes these switches sneak up on me, my mind tells me "it's just a great day!" but it's really the illness. When the symptoms are "feeling good, being up beat, and getting a lot done" it's easy to think "what's the big deal?" but it is a big deal because when I get on a high like that it disrupts my sleep and routines and sets me up for a big fall.

When the depression hits self harming and suicide become rational ideas, I can barely get out of bed, sometimes simple movements (like shifting position on the couch or reaching for a water bottle or wiping my nose) become nearly impossible as if I'm stuck in a vat of crystallized honey, I have panic attacks and anxiety, near constant tension in muscles all over my body, and a sick, sucking feeling in my stomach. Sometimes I will sleep for 12 or more hours a day, other times I struggle to get 5 or 6 hours, either way I suffer and struggle to get back on a healthy schedule. 

In a severe relapse it can take weeks for me to myself righted again, sometimes it can take months-I'll have good days thrown in there but I've had years where I'm stuck between hypomanic and depressive states without being "normal" for very long. It's a big factor in my weight gain since both states can affect my appetite and often put me in a place where sweets and carby foods are the only thing that ever sound good to eat.

I know that I have many things to be thankful for and that it's hard to imagine me really believing that everyone would be better off if I were dead but when my mood dips down it really, truly seems like the best thing for everyone. Having been suicidal multiple times a year (sometimes as often as multiple times a week) for over a decade it's become a very familiar idea and it's easier to slide into that depth of mood each time I relapse. It's like the path in my mind has become worn down and whenever my mood fails my thoughts take that path of least resistance, ending up at suicide as a solution. It seems crazy but that's because it is, I'm not in my right mind when these thoughts crop up, it's not my true logic, it's the disease's tainted logic, the sickness' programming overwriting my own.

When I self harm it's a similar situation but slightly different. My logic becomes skewed but it's also a very physical compulsion. The physical pain relieves the mental and physical pain caused by the depression, it distracts my brain from rerunning the suicidal and depressed thought sequences that loop in my mind during an episode so that when I self harm I very often feel better for a short time. It's a coping technique, a negative one but one that works quite often. It doesn't make sense to hurt yourself to heal yourself but it can be like a hard shutdown that reboots me-the virus or diseased thoughts usually return, it just interrupts the episode and gives me a momentary reprieve.

This is only a bit of what I go through. I'm not sure how to explain what the hubster and I have been through and what this illness really looks like day-to-day and over the years, it's such a big deal. It's a huge part of our lives and who I am but at the same time it's totally NOT me. It's hard to comprehend an invisible illness that masks itself as personality, that hijacks someone from the inside-out, a disease that doesn't just coalesce in physical symptoms but expresses itself using my voice, my movement, my thoughts. If I didn't experience firsthand I would say it sounds like a cheesy sci-fi flick, but that's just what it is.

I live my life sharing my existence with an illness, not simply sharing my body like arthritis, diabetes, or a heart condition. When my disease flares up it takes my body and my soul and my mind, expressing itself over all planes of my existence not just the physical, which makes it so hard to see it for what it is and not mistake it for the real me.

It took me a long, long time to realize these patterns and understand the nature of my illness (heck, I'm still cracking the code) and it was exceptionally hard for me to accept it as a fact of life. You may say, "why accept it? fight back, don't accept this, reject it" but it's not something I can excise. Drugs may dampen the effects but they don't kill the virus and very often they suppress the real me, prevent me from feeling any natural highs or lows, prevent me from experiencing happiness as well as sadness in addition to the troublesome symptoms. 

It's a losing game. The best I can do is try and maintain a preventative lifestyle and avoid symptoms cropping up, and recovering as quickly as possible when they do. There isn't always a way to win in life, sometimes a tie is the best we can do, and living well with Bipolar II is almost always a tie of sorts. I never really defeat the disease, it's always there but when I do well enough I get to be "there" too instead of overwritten.

I don't know if you'll really understand any of this but even when you don't you're able to listen and be supportive and I really appreciate that. I just hope that you aren't disappointed in me or think that I don't try hard enough to fix myself, because I'll never be "fixed," this is part of my genetic, physical, mental make up and it's something I'll live with for the rest of my life no matter how hard to try to make it disappear. I guess that's what I really want you to understand. That I try even though there is no cure. That I'm not a failure because I can't cure an incurable disease. 


Sunday, June 7, 2015

Oh Jolly, One Good Day Before Back to Bad...

Wanted to go to the hospital Friday. Wanted to be in a room that wasn't my own, no laundry, no dishes, no packing, no obligations just me and Baby doing our thing. Unfortunately my bare bones existence consists of tons of supplements, struggling to consume enough nutritious foods, runaway thoughts, anxiety, all over tension, and now even castor oil packs to try and reduce the inflammation of my perpetually plugged duct-not exactly a prime situation for rest and relaxation.

I've never been to the hospital for my mental illness, I imagine it might be more frustrating and complicated than helpful in many ways, yet it remains a hazy last resort I cling to. Deep down I know it's not the respite I need, so I keep at arm's length to protect the possibility, protect the illusion of a safety net.

In reality, it's all on me. The only help to be offered would be drugs pushed down my gullet-and I can't go back to drugs. The side effects and lackluster results aside, the one thing I'm doing "right" is feeding my baby and going on meds may take that away from me. I don't know how I could handle losing the one thing I can do right at the moment. It's a scary proposition.

It all feels like too much to juggle. I can't cope unless things get better and things can't get better without me taking care of all my shit, yet I'm hobbled. No matter what the hubster may say, I don't see any help for me. He's barely keeping it together helping out more with the baby and coping with his work stress, not to mention handling most of the cooking and trying to force feed me. I'm not ill enough to be helped by a medical facility and I'm not well enough to help myself much. One alternative is to hope things get worse, another that they get marginally better so I can fix it myself.

Today is another shitty day. Started out well enough but has devolved to paralyzing tension, more scratching on my forearm, and some wrist banging. As much as I'm afraid of the self harm escalating I'm more afraid of my mood completely bottoming out and having to go on medication. I guess there isn't really an upside at the moment, just fear on top of fear with anxiety and self disgust for flavor.

Yesterday was good enough. Beginning to look like I can't string together good days though. At least my ongoing crazy dreams are entertaining.

Friday, June 5, 2015

Freaky Friday

Started off okay enough this morning despite little sleep and hardly any food I made it to the lactation consultant appointment on time, just a little harried. The appointment went well and while I felt frustrated I didn't feel overwhelmed until later at the grocery store when I was trying to find the stuff she recommended. I couldn't find what I was looking for, I got teary. My appetite was already suppressed but then I could hardly find something I wanted to eat, just walking became difficult. My mood just went downhill from there.

I cried it out this afternoon while taking care of baby and force feeding myself, took a nap after his afternoon feeding and thought I made a bit of a bounce back but that didn't last long. I slid back down again and couldn't eat the food the hubster prepared for dinner. In fact, I could hardly move. It took me several minutes to make a simple adjustment in my chair, my brain-to-body pathways seemed to be filled with molasses. I could barely speak and made no facial expressions, I was frozen. This after more tears and anger and muscle tension.

Once I got moving again I thought I was going to start rebooting and making my way out of the funk but I slid back again after the hubbo talked about "we'll do things differently this time, there are options." I don't want to go on drugs, I don't want us to be dealing with this all on our own and have the hubbo picking up all the slack and us saving face-and it really doesn't seem like we have options. There is no help around the corner, there is no community support, I was suffering and all I could do was sit and suffer. I ended up sobbing more and even flailing and straining, yelling in an angry outburst.

Eventually I settled back into a little paralysis than earlier, then rolled over to feed the baby again. While I fed him I ruminated on something the hubbo said in response to my weakly mumbled "I want to cut myself." He said, "that's a temporary solution, this is temporary, it'll pass." It struck me. They say suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but if self harm is a temporary solution for a temporary problem, doesn't that compute? It computed beautifully at the time.

After the feeding I dragged the nearest pair of scissors across my forearm several times. Just deep enough to break the skin and make a burn but not deep enough to bleed. I had begun to feel relief before I even got up to get them, the decision calming me. It would all be better shortly. And it was. After the scratching I felt relieved. I could finally eat, finishing the spaghetti reheat the hubbo presented to me and going for some Ben & Jerry's on top of that. I even drank water. I felt better. Able to smile, move freely, function.

It's hard for me to understand why self harming is such a big deal. I have a feeling it's part of the episode and I may not be in my right mind, but I feel like it helped me a lot tonight. I was ready to lay in bed and marinate in my misery but now I feel like I can get on with life. I hope the feeling sticks around.

Guess we'll see.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Ya give your family heart disease, why not the ducks?

Slept in til 11 but feeling better overall today. Decided to wrap the baby on and take a little stroll to the park. It's sunny but cool, just how I like it.

Unfortunately saw flagrant park violations that dampened my mood; off leash dogs and people feeding the ducks. My mood perked up when I saw the eagles and heard one of the adults screeching to their young as it alighted in their nest tree.

Yesterday my mom and brother came to visit. It was a pretty decent visit though not without its awkwardness. My brother pissed off the hubster by playing "Ticket to Ride" to make other people lose instead of playing to win. I think the hubbo was primed to be pissed off since he doesnt appreciate my brother's everpresent sarcasm. With my mom things went a little smoother now that I expect her to only talk about herself and my sister and not listen to me. Still felt the sting of disppointment but it didnt burn as bad as usual.

She did say something that bothered me at the end of the visit. Instead of "okay we're taking off" she said "we'll get out of your hair." Sounds like some gaslighting/passive aggressiveness to me! Hurts not being able to communicate well but hurts less recognizing the dysfunction and not blaming myself.

Lactation consultant tomorrow, the hubster is gonna meet me there since it's right between our apartment and his work (same building as the birth center) and we want to get everything out and be on the same page as far as whatever treatment she suggests. Boy, I hope she has some ideas I havent found myself!

In other news, we've decided to take Millie to the shelter before our move at the end of the month. She had another pissing incident and we're not willing to prioritize cat needs over family matters at the moment. Took one piss too many that cat!

Iroh is hobbling along but we are discussing when he may need to be put down. He doesnt seem like he's in too much pain, still eating and sauntering but we feel like the time is nearing. I feel bad that a lot of our decision is simply shifting priorities and not wanting as much on our plate. He's not too much work at the moment but we definitely arent gonna draw out his dying.

Fio is doing well, gassy as hell as usual but a good family dog. Sometimes he leaves his bones in the way or sits on Baby's tummy time mat but overall he respects the baby bubble and has been doing very well.

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Off to a Better Start

So far today is going better. Having the hubster home from work really helps!

Also had a crazy dream... First I was like a female "Wedding Ringer" (it's goofy but a fun funny movie) and I was running around in platform heels and a fabulous dress chasing down an alternative bride since some guy got dumped at the altar. 

When I found and brought her back to the stage (it was some big ass hotel wedding) I had the groom come up and did a sort of dramatic speech/presentation thing and told him to look at me, don't look over his shoulder at who I'd brought back for him to marry, but to tell me who it was.

He said the wrong name! Not just that, he said, "Wrong Name, because of that pony sex."

WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN!? The only thing I could think of was that song "ride the pony, ride the pony," that I like up until that chorus. Hate that.

Anyways. I ran off to get hand sanitizer and then met up with the "Wedding Ringer" guy in the hotel kitchen while I scavenged wedding cake and espresso for myself. We went to the wedding he was running and had a blast.

That was the first dream. Second dream was a bit crazier but in different ways...

I was part of some sort of school field trip and we were abroad. I'm not sure where but after some sort of drama infused sleepover we ended up on an Asian airline, like we snuck on and stole it, and one of the gals was piloting. We took off on a highway and went under various bridges and power lines before rearing up at a steep angle and barely making it past some hydro lines. 

I was aware of some sort of "bad guys" on the ground trying to prevent us from escaping but what we were escaping remains unknown. All I know is that is was super dramatic and weird to have a bunch of people on a plane, only our group, and a student piloting a big jumbo jet. It was like a weird spy/field trip vibe and I think my sister was part of the group for whatever reason.

So, we'll see how this afternoon/evening goes but so far I'm doing a lot better. Got to sleep in (and have some weird dreams) and I feel like Baby and I have regained connection, which is a relief. I'm not totally bounced back but I don't feel like I'm sliding deeper. We'll see if the upward swing continues, definitely gotta work on the self care!

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Good Therapy Session, Bad Day, Good News

So yesterday was therapy. Skipped last week because of the holiday and since last Wednesday I've been having bad thoughts, thoughts of harming the baby, and anger outbursts so had stuff to talk about!

It was a good session. The hubster stayed home from work so he took care of the kiddo which I think helped me let loose at therapy more than usual. I cried and talked about feeling overwhelmed and my bad thoughts and anger. My therapist confirmed my suspicion that I seem to be edging toward a postpartum mood disorder type issue but gave credit to the extra stress I've been experiencing with a move on the horizon and my family junk. I'm comforted that she did want to leap into med recommendations since I'm pretty averse to that, but she did say that we need to be prepared to take action if things don't get better.

Well today things definitely did not get better.

This morning I did not want to move. Did not want to get out of bed, just wanted to sleep. Taking care of Baby was overwhelming from the get go and my resiliency chipped away quick. He was needy and awake longer than I anticipated, spitting up and gassy when he wasn't filling diapers. I didn't eat or drink enough and by 1:30 pm I was at my wit's end.

I made up my mind to set him down and walk away, take a shower actually. I started the shower and went back in the bedroom to check his diaper one last time since he was still complaining. On the changing table he just started screaming harder and I lost it. I clenched my fists and screamed myself. Not directly at him, more like primal rage to the skies, but it scared him terribly.

I felt horrible. It was awful seeming him shocked into silence and then turn red, bottom lip quivering and tears spurting as he screamed the most heart wrenching scream I've heard from him yet. I burst into sobs and picked him up, holding him to my chest as I tried to sooth him but failed completely. I was sobbing, he was screaming, my intermittent "shhhh" just seemed to upset him further.

After a couple of minutes with no improvement I called the hubbo and asked him to come home. It was only 15-20 minutes from his usual time to head home but it mattered. I was hysterical. Sobbing and barely coherent. He calmed me down, told me to put Baby in the swing with a pacifier and take my shower (which was still running in the background).

I did so and after Baby spit up one more time he fell asleep.

I continued my break down in the shower, kneeling in the bottom of the tub, softly wailing and rocking until my toenails turned purple. I hadn't hit my baby, I hadn't physically hurt him, but it felt like I had broken him. He was perfect and I ruined him. Life hadn't scared him yet, and then I did. His mother. I guess that's the natural order but it cut me to the core. I felt like such a failure.

The hubster took charge when he got home and got Baby taken care of and me fed and watered. I'm still shell shocked and gun shy with the baby. It feels like a tie has been cut between us. I know it's not realistic to believe he doesn't trust me anymore because of one incident but it feels that way. I feel like I'm not wanted anymore. I feel a little dead inside now. Still have no reserve. Any cries from Baby and I freak. Hubster going to work from home tomorrow.

In other news we found a new apartment. Well, a condo that the owner is renting out. It's older and while it's a bigger space the storage is more restricted so I'm gonna have an interesting time rearranging our things to fit in it.

While it's a relief to have found a place, and a cheap place at that, I'm still stressing about the moving itself. I feel like such a head case, it's just so hard to calm down right now... I feel like I should be more relieved but that my bottom line hasn't changed much, I'm still barely hanging on.

Hope tomorrow is at least a little better, but right now I feel like disappearing. A den and a hibernation sounds marvelous.