And now for some honesty
A few weeks ago Steve was catching up on his journaling. He's not into telling the internet about his life so he journals in Word. Not nearly as fun for the rest of you. He says it keeps him more honest though- since he's writing for a future audience that will read it after he dies.
He's right you know. I have a hard time being honest with you all. It's the same thing I do IRL (in real life). I like to make things happy and surface and pretty and nothing is ever wrong and we're perfect over here at my happy house. You may have suspected it- but that's not necessarily true. Things haven't been very happy lately. Not happy to the point that by the end of most days I'm ready to head for the hills. Lucky for me Steve supports me in that and many nights I do leave- even if it's just to go to Walmart so that I don't have to do the bedtime thing.
It's 11:51pm and I'm not sleeping. I laid in bed for 25 minutes and my head was swirling with thoughts and I needed to write them down. I felt strongly that I needed to write them here. I don't know if it's because one of you needed to read this- or if I needed you to read it and to make me feel okay. (Now if that wasn't a desperate plea for validation I don't know what is).
I've got a doctor's appointment tomorrow. I'm having a hard time enjoying life. I'm not finding joy in the things that I used to love to do, I have to force myself to do most anything lately. I find myself not enjoying my kids or my life in general. I know when I admit it to myself that I'm depressed. I spend a lot of not healthy time contemplating 'how things could be if...'. I can't go to sleep at night, then can't roll out of bed in the mornings. Then I can't make it through the day without a 2 hour nap. (I'm not pregnant). When I am awake I'm irritated and grumpy. I feel bad for my kids for having to live with me. I snap and yell and am very unpleasant to be around. I really just want them to leave me alone.
So I'm talking to the dr. about all of that tomorrow. I'm going to ask for some prescription medication to help me out of this slump. I know (intellectually) that it's not a weakness to do that- and I wouldn't think that anyone else is weak for taking antidepressants. But at the same time I'm almost ashamed to say that I need some help. How sick is that? I'd be admitting that I'm not perfect. The horror. That I've had a really really hard time the last several months. That even though I appear to have it all together I don't. That in the family I must be the weak one who can't deal with this.
I've spent the last several months self medicating with food. That's obviously not working well. Intellectually I know that- but emotionally I'm having a hard time stopping. I have so many things that I want to do- that I enjoy doing- but I just don't do them because it's too much work.
Part of me is worried about becoming addicted. Another (shallow) part of me is worried about the stigma. Another (also shallow) part of me is worried about more weight gain as a side affect. But I've been shortchanging my kids and my husband and most importantly myself lately. Example: I am not a spanker. I abhor spanking. I really do. But lately it's all I can do not to swat Annika's butt several times a day. Does it do any good? No. All it's done is make her meaner. But it's like I can't control myself- which scares me to death.
So there you have it. My confession. I'm not perfect and I'll stop trying to appear as such. I just need to do something or else my kids and I are not going to survive this summer intact.
