Look Back in Anger
I made an appointment to see a counselor. A licensed social worker, to be exact. I just really need to seek a neutral, third-party opinion on why I can�t handle all this shit anymore. So, what seems to be the problem, Ms. FreshHell?
Let me count the ways:
1. I�m tired. My god, I�ve never been this exhausted in my life for this long. I have not had a decent night of sleep (meaning more than 4 hours of sleep in a row) in over a year (the last few weeks of pregnancy were too uncomfortable to sleep in any position but sitting up). Thanks, Red. This is all your fault. There are really few worse things than long-term sleep deprivation. Take my word for it.
2. I�m sad. And lonely. For any number of reasons. I have no friends. Those few friends I do have either live far away and/or have kids of their own and have no time to do things. Like me. Plus, I live really far away from town and no one ever seems willing to come out and visit. Believe me, I�ve tried. There�s always some good reason � their kid�s sick, my kid�s sick, blah, blah. As much of an introvert as I am, I think I'm seeking some kind of parent community that I'm not finding out here in nowheresville. A community of parents with my values: vegetarianism/natural food-eating, baby-wearing, granola-crunching moms. Not soccer/SUV/cell phone moms.
I have no �free� time � time to just sit and do nothing or sit and read a book or write (though I�ve been working, finally, on fixing this last one. I�m now starting to write again. So that�s good, right?). I don�t even have time to do things like clip my nails (I do them in the car now � don�t tell that cop, okay? He�ll probably send me another goddamn ticket), iron clothes (which severely limits what�s available to wear in my already limited wardrobe. Remember how I mentioned losing 30 pounds by merely breastfeeding and going insane? Yeah, nothing fits anymore and I can�t afford to replace my wardrobe. This also makes me sad. But, since I don�t have time to shop, I can�t complain. Oh, that�s right, I already AM!)�..where was I? Oh yes, my litany of complaints.
3. I ache. All over. My head, my neck, my shoulders, my severely-crippled-by-carpal-tunnel-syndrome wrists and elbows, my toes. I tried to call the massage therapist yesterday to schedule an emergency appointment but THE OFFICE IS CLOSED ON THURSDAYS AND FRIDAYS. What the fuck? How are you running a business if you�re never open??!! Why are you unavailable when I need you? (Ah! Here's the crux of the problem!)
4. I�m angry. (If you haven�t noticed by now.) This is merely how my depression manifests itself. Anger and avoidance. Some days, I barely say a word to my husband nor do I look him in the eye because I'm pissed off at everything he says and does (or doesn�t do) and he�s actually one of the good guys.
He is a good father, looks after the kids, has sole care of Red two days a week, does the dishes, takes the trash to the dump, etc. But, nothing irritates me more than watching him blissfully take a nap on a Sunday while I�m scurrying around doing the laundry in hopes I�ll get to take one, too (see #1) before Red wakes up from hers, but when the dryer�s done, does he get his ass up and take stuff out? No. He ignores it. Because he can? Because he knows I�ll do it? Because he�s clueless and can�t just help out without being asked? I cannot rest if I know there�s a dryer full of clothes getting all wrinkled and a washer full of clothes waiting their turn. I can smell the mildew setting in already. So, is this my problem or his? Should I, too, just ignore everything around me? I don�t know anymore. I�ve lost all perspective.
I mean, why, if I�m doing all the �right� things, if life is not that bad (decent job, great kids, good marriage � I think, no huge debts, no really bad habits or risk-taking behaviors), do I feel like I do? Obviously, there�s a problem and I need to figure out what it is and how to solve it.
The bright side is that Red is getting older (oh my god she�s almost a year old!!) and the breastfeeding (at least at its current rate) is s-l-o-w-l-y coming to an end and she�ll start to sleep better (right? She will, won�t she?), and I�ll be able to leave the house for hours at a time without having to take the breast pump along and figure out how and where I�m going to pump.
So, I�ve got an appointment for June 13 � which, short term doesn�t really help me RIGHT THIS MINUTE � and we�ll see what happens. I hope we can do it in six hours because that�s what insurance covers and I can�t pay full price for this. (Maybe she can help me with my sudden overuse of parentheses! Clearly, this is a cry for help.)
In the meantime, I�m going to spend the weekend re-doing Dusty�s closet, writing a few more pages of the novel, enjoying three days off in a row. If I�m not driven insane by my mere existence on this planet.
At least there�s beer in the fridge. Sigh.
