Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Not...
I've decided. Until I get better, no more children. I want to get back to being myself. so no more children, at least not for a very long time. Sorry ducky... but not really. Being a mom is not really what I expected it to be. I'm not what I expected myself to be. ... A whole lot of change, and no relief, no rest... just the same, every day, not getting any better... quite possibly getting worse. No, no more children, at least not for a very long time. Sorry ducky... but not really.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Self Diagnosed
Depression hurts. Not only the depressed one, but all those involved. For over 8 months now I've struggled to breathe... Moving from a deep, suffocating resentment for my husband, who would sleep so deeply through night-time feedings... to a suffocating resentment for my new lifestyle. I feel like I'm not really living, just existing... Just moving mindlessly about, changing
diapers, breastfeeding, washing dishes and laundry, never actually finishing my "chores" for the day, ever... Moments of joy come and go, but never last. I can't remember what I did yesterday, and I don't quite yet care about what I'll be doing tomorrow. It's a different kind of feeling, different than it's been before. Maybe that's why it's called postpartum depression... All my life I dreamed of becoming a mom, and now that I am, I dream of nothing but running away...
diapers, breastfeeding, washing dishes and laundry, never actually finishing my "chores" for the day, ever... Moments of joy come and go, but never last. I can't remember what I did yesterday, and I don't quite yet care about what I'll be doing tomorrow. It's a different kind of feeling, different than it's been before. Maybe that's why it's called postpartum depression... All my life I dreamed of becoming a mom, and now that I am, I dream of nothing but running away...
Friday, March 18, 2011
Trapped
It bothers me that I want more out of life than staying at home all
day to take care of the house and my baby. ... I should be content, but I'm just not. Nothing I've tried can stifle the longing I have to break free... Sad that I feel like I'm trapped... trapped in a life I love and hate all at the same time...
day to take care of the house and my baby. ... I should be content, but I'm just not. Nothing I've tried can stifle the longing I have to break free... Sad that I feel like I'm trapped... trapped in a life I love and hate all at the same time...
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Contentment?
I think it's safe to say that no one reads my blog anymore, not even me... so I feel comfortable sharing... I'm married now, to a wonderful man. I have an 8 month old baby girl... my Lizzy-boo-bear. She's an angel and so curious. Life seems as though it should be good, should taste sweet each day I rise. But sadly, I feel like there is something missing. A piece of me? I thought I'd find it by reading scriptures and praying more often, that being closer God would fill that gap in my soul, but it's still there. Shouldn't I be content with the life I have chosen? Am I wrong for wanting more out of my life than what I have? For wanting to do more, be more? There is a firestirring inside me, but I feel like I keep trying to extinguish it because I've been told I shouldn't want it... ? Why should I have to stay at home, doing the same thing every day, stuck with no one to socialize with, nothing worthwhile to do? "Oh!" but a voice says, "you SHOULD be happy that you have such a wonderful husband, a beautiful child, a nice place to live, food to eat, family nearby to visit on occasion..." Oh but I am happy with it! Just because I crave something more, does that mean I don't appreciate what I have? NO! I appreciate it, I love it, I enjoy my relationship with my husband, child, and extended family... but that's not what we're talking about... what I'M talking about. I'm talking about this fire, this excitement, this passion that I have welling up inside me! It has no focus, no future, no place to express itself in my life... no
corner to call home... so there it sits, on a chair, inside my heart, shivering from excitement and anticipation for the day it can stand up and burst forth form my soul to express what it's been trying to for years and years. I don't know what that will look like, or when that day will come... but it must come. It must burst forth or drive me mad trying to understand why it can't come out yet... It's creating a vacuum... I feel like it just keeps sucking in it's breath, holding, waiting, creating a void of silence, of anticipation... Why does it have to wait so long?
corner to call home... so there it sits, on a chair, inside my heart, shivering from excitement and anticipation for the day it can stand up and burst forth form my soul to express what it's been trying to for years and years. I don't know what that will look like, or when that day will come... but it must come. It must burst forth or drive me mad trying to understand why it can't come out yet... It's creating a vacuum... I feel like it just keeps sucking in it's breath, holding, waiting, creating a void of silence, of anticipation... Why does it have to wait so long?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Breathe
I feel like I'm underwater... drowning in a sea of pain... weighed down by the sorrows of a
wounded heart... struggling against an unseen current that continues to pull at me, further and further away from shore and deeper into the shadows of the deep, into it's dark unknown reaches, away from the clarity of fresh air. Darkness threatens to envelope me and steal my life from me... ... but today I made a promise, a promise to do all I can to hold on... and so I'll keep fighting, fighting against that unseen current, fighting against the darkness... fighting towards the light, fighting to breathe... I promise I'll keep fighting... and even if the darkness claims me, at least I'll know that I didn't stop fighting.
wounded heart... struggling against an unseen current that continues to pull at me, further and further away from shore and deeper into the shadows of the deep, into it's dark unknown reaches, away from the clarity of fresh air. Darkness threatens to envelope me and steal my life from me... ... but today I made a promise, a promise to do all I can to hold on... and so I'll keep fighting, fighting against that unseen current, fighting against the darkness... fighting towards the light, fighting to breathe... I promise I'll keep fighting... and even if the darkness claims me, at least I'll know that I didn't stop fighting.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Tired
I feel like I'm living someone else's dream, my dearest ducky... only time will tell... this chapter is a relatively short but difficult one. It's quite intense. Very suspenseful. I'm not particularly fond of it... will it get worse before it gets better? Are there more stormy seas ahead? I need to rest... I need to rest my weary head, need to rest my troubled heart... I'm so tired.
A Step Forward
When you're so disoriented by the things that caused you to shut your eyes, the only person strong enough to help you feel comfortable opening them again, is Jesus Christ... I'm not ready to open my eyes again, I'm not ready to turn around and face the future head on... all I remember is the pain and sorrow from the last time I looked...
okay... I take that back... I've peeked a few times since then... and it's incredible what I see ahead! But fears and doubts and pain and sorrow still fill my mind if I keep my eyes open too long... the hurt is still so fresh.
I just want it to stop hurting... the pain is still there... I'm not ready yet... not ready yet.
Realizing I'm not ready feels like a step forward, in and of itself, in the right direction.
okay... I take that back... I've peeked a few times since then... and it's incredible what I see ahead! But fears and doubts and pain and sorrow still fill my mind if I keep my eyes open too long... the hurt is still so fresh.
I just want it to stop hurting... the pain is still there... I'm not ready yet... not ready yet.
Realizing I'm not ready feels like a step forward, in and of itself, in the right direction.
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