Destruction of my youth

Today is a special day in my house, it’s three years since I said ‘I do’ to my husband. Three years of bliss and fun. Three years I become one with my better half, three years that I took a leap I was scared to.

In my youth I had two-step fathers in my life. One who was not something to model any healthy marriage off of, and a another who treated my mother like she was the very air he breathed. This man, this father figure is what I looked for when I wanted to finally say I do. It’s off my parents marrage I based what a healthy marrage was.

17 Years of love, and bliss. At least that’s what I saw. Today on my special day with my husband, the feelings of bliss faded away to feelings of worry. separation, divorce, and heart break instead fill my head. 

I got a call today from my mother, she’s leaving the man I look at as a father figure. I am torn with this, and my heart aches over this. This man helps shape who I am today, and with every ounce of who I am I want to tell my mother she should try to make it work. I know it will fall on deaf ears though, as I know my mother. 17 Years is a long time to throw away due to little things. It would seem they don’t agree what to do, they are about to lose their house. My step father wishes to just give the house back to the people they got it from. The place they got it from will call it even. My mother wants to sell it, and get some sort of money from it. However the place needs a lot of work.

This once more has turned into a battle of money between a married couple. I thought they were stronger as a couple than this. If this is what I based a healthy marriage after does this mean my own in time is doomed? SHe loves him still, she said so, however that isn’t enough to make her stay.

How do you make someone try to make something work, if they are a quitter?

I suppose this is all i have for today. It isn’t much, merely something that is heavy on my heart today.

The Unexpected

Life likes to send us the most amazing moments, and some of the hardest. We will have moments of such greatness we feel like our hearts just ache with joy. Some of us will even cry due to the pure amount of bliss and joy we feel at that moment. Then it will hand us the dark ones, the ones we wish would could just dig out of. Ones that feel like no matter how much we search for the silver lining there isn’t one.

I’ve spoken a lot about PPD as of late, however I was given a request by some one who follows me on here. She asked if I would write about unexpected friendships today. Now I wasn’t sure how to start with such a post to be honest. I found myself struggling how to talk about them, but then I re-read what she asked for. It wasn’t really unexpected friendships, but friendships you never thought or wanted to happen. Now that is something I can relate to. There is a few people in my life (one from way back in high school) I wanted to dislike very much. They where loud, they cursed too much, and in some cases I even felt they where below me. That’s everyone, I did the first mistake you can when meeting someone, I pre-judged. This woman was rough around the edges, and would tell anyone to f-off. Want to know who she is to me today? One of my best friends, in fact I am even standing up in her wedding come October. She in fact is like a sister to me, and drives me just as crazy as a sister would too. Another someone I was shocked to become friends with, two of my daughters step-moms. It’s easy to resent a new person in your child’s life, especially when your child talks non stop about them to you. It’s also a stab to the heart to hear them call them Mom.

Now I have an on a few cases looked at my child and gone “Who” When they called their step-mom ‘Mom’. It hurt so bad, to the point I cried myself to sleep for a while. I felt replaced,  unneeded, and frankly replaceable as a mother. My daughter called another woman someone who did not carry her for nine months, someone who didn’t damage their body to bring her into this world, Mom. The pain hurt, the pain in fact made me bitter for a small while. With one of the step moms it still does. (yes there is more than one.) However with two of them, I found I fell into an honest to god friend-ship with, and now I don’t see them as the step-mother. I see them as my childs second Mom. These two lovely girls have blossomed into such wonderful girls due to these two woman who put aside ‘Not my kid’ thoughts, and instead said ‘I love her’. One of the hardest of things to do is to be able to love someone else’s child. Hands down, I have dated men who children before, and its odd being the new person. It’s also hard to be the child meeting said new parent.

I am a child who was raised that it was normal to be in a blended family. I have now had three men step into the father role in my life. My biological father left when i was no more than three years of age. I only have a handful of memories of him, the most of them in which i watched him die.

The second was a step-father who beat the living snot out of me as I was growing up. I was reminded over and over again, I wasn’t his kid. I was never good enough for his love. I was also not allowed to call him Dad, as he would remind me. I spent thirteen years of my youth under the thumb of a man who resented who helped create me, and for the fact I was not his child. That I never would be, I had the bruises to show it. When my Mother and him separated I watched what it did to my younger two sisters, who were children. I watched the heart eche, and the pain they went through. So when I was introduced to the newest man in my life to be called Dad, I was reluctant. All I ever knew was the fear i had as a child from Step Dad number one. However step dad number two treated me like his own. Loved me as he did his own children, and even stayed at my side during one of the most painful moments of my life. He was there to help me when i said goodbye to my bio dad, he held my hand/leg when i pushed out my first child. He was even there for me when I watched my first daughter struggle to breath on her own.

I saw him in these two amazing woman, two woman I knew for a fact would make sure my children would never suffer as I had. I let my resentment go, and let these two amazing woman into my heart. For it I gained two amazing supportive, and at times yes frustrating woman into my life. My daughters don’t have one mom, they have two. I hope I will be able to say such things about my oldest daughters step mom some day too.

So i hope this helped with what my reader was seeking. That yes sometimes we do fall into friendships that are hard to have at first, but those are the friendships you should cling too. After all those are the people worth having in your life.

I have always thought of a quote when i meet someone new. I don’t remember where I first heard it but it packs a punch.

Are you a passing figure in my life’s story, or am I a temporary one in yours?

Our Own Darkness

I was going through one of my more daily paces, and came across a photo that just really struck home for me. In fact i felt an inner throb in the very core of who I am when I saw it.

Yes folks it’s another post about postpartum depression or PPD, I stress it a lot at this moment due to I am finding not enough talk openly about it. It’s hard for those who have never suffered from depression to be able to relate to those going through it. Even those who have never suffered from any form of anxiety to under stand how hard it is at times just to get out of bed.

This photo spoke more words than I can stress, It the image of a demon of sorts visiting a woman one night, only to take pity on her. Depression is in short one’s own hell, our own little demon raging inside our minds and chests. Those who suffer from it can always be angry, or sad. Or go from one to the other very easy, things that made you smile laugh and enjoy life become bothersome. You don’t want to bathe, you dont want to eat, or in some cases  you over eat. You dont sleep, and in some cases sleep too much. In short you stop caring. Its hard, and it’s not easy to deal with when everyone else around you is going on like nothing has changed. They dont see, your world has changed. Its stopped spinning and stopped being vibrant. The laughter has drained out of us, and left us in the end with a hole that we have no idea how to fill. It is important to understand that just because you have never suffered from it before, doesn’t mean it can’t happen.

There are many reasons depression can  hit, and it some times happens in a delayed manner for many. What is important to know is that you need to find help, and that the journey isn’t going to be easy.

Anything in life worth having is worth working for.

This is so true, its worth the hard word and understand just to feel something again. Folks I wont say I know all the answers, as I know I don’t however i will say this. Talk to someone, reach out, get help. If you dont what could happen after words is just tragic. When left untreated its harder to become normal again, and could damage any relationship you would have had with others. Be it your children or just those near you.

Those who suffer from PPD can jeopardize their bond with their children. I look back now at one of my kids, and know for a fact I was not treated for it. For this (I hate I am admitting this) I don’t feel as close to one of my kids for it.

A child will love their parent unconditional, but that love given isn’t going to be always there if you have distanced yourself from your child. In time your child will grow distant from you as well, and you could lose the most important relationship you would have had in your life. The bond between a child and their parent should be wonderful, and in some ways magical. When you have PPD there is nothing. Reach out and grasp for that something.

For a moment, I felt it.

Mothers who have suffered from postpartum depression dont openly discuss it with each other. Then again now a days woman are even scared to find out if they truly have it, speicaly with the scare of the new health bill being passed. Postpartum depression (PPD) will be seen as a pre existing condition. Depression in fact of any kind fall under this catagory. Just one more thing for people to put us in, yet another box. Specialy when at the moment all we want to do is feel normal and break out of this enclosed box we currently are facing.

The reality is harsh and unkind to those who suffer from any form of depression or anxiety. There is no true fix all or cure. I have posted a few blogs now of PPD, and how its effecting me and my family. I want to say thank you to the mom who reach out to me.

“I have been working on feeling better, but each time I think I am getting better something knocks me down again. I am trying so hard to be normal again.”

This is a direct quote from said mom who reached out to me. I felt her pain as I went over what she sent me. Someone else who is feeling my pain, who knows what I am suffering from. This mother is doing her best clearly to fit into the normal box, but lets face it. Right now thats not going to happen. We need to be honest with ourselves. Once you become a Mom nothing is the same again. Be it our body, or homes, our marriages, and or our minds. It is a proven fact that a womans brain shrinks for the first six months after she gives birth to the baby. This is due its primal for us to focus on the care of the child. However what happens when that focus when the mother is suffering from those baby blues? The answer is not a pretty one. We all know what can happen when you suffer from PPD so I do not need to go into deep detail, but I will say this. It can be deadly for both Mom and Baby. There have been cases where the mother harms herself or that baby. I was the type of Mom who almost hurt herself, I was convinced that it would do everyone good if I removed myself from what was going on. Pills in hand, then in mouth.  Yes this is very dark to admit to, but it was the bitter taste of the mouth full of pills on my tounge as I waited for my glass of water to fill up that shook me to the core. I spat the pills out into the sink and let myself drop the floor bawling my eyes out. I got help shortly after.

I have been told I am brave for admiting to this, but I dont feel brave. The image above shows the silhouette of a woman all in black, with the word vibrant and colorful around her. This image explains exactly how I have been feeling. I feel like a black cloud of nothing while the word seems to be lush with life and colors for others. I am waiting, waiting for the moment that I feel color bleed back into my own life. At this moment its tones of grays, and blacks. I want the color, not the bitterness I tasted on my tounge that night I really admited to what was going on. PPD is dark, ugly, and hard. Not many talk about it, nor do many want to admit to it. We feel like bad moms if we do, less like a woman for it in fact. in my journy to better myself I found last night was the first time I accually laughed.

It wasn’t at home though, that dark cloud shifted over me the moment i started up the stairs to my house. It was at a work fucntion, I dont even remember what made me laugh about being there but something did. For a blip in time, I was me again. This is how I can say the little pills they gave me, they dont work right away, but they are doing SOMETHING! I am still waiting to feel something when I look into my babie’s face. I am waiting for the want to get on the floor with them and coe right back at them. I am waiting for the moment i feel the want to hold my baby just to hold them. I am waiting, but last night showed me something I wasn’t sure would happen.

I felt something.

Who Is That?

I have been talking quiet a lot about things like PPD and pregnancy. Today I am talking about something we all do, something we have comfortable with doing to ourselves and to others.

Body Shaming. We would like to be able to say we don’t do this to each other, and some of us might be right in saying so. However we all have our moments of standing in front of the mirror and playing with one part of our body or another thinking it needs fixing or how gross it looks. I know I do, I did so before I even had PPD. I have had several kids, and in doing so I have whats called as ‘The Mothers Apron’ that’s when your belly hangs a bit right about your waist area. It’s not fact it’s just extra skin that stretched from having a baby but never bounced back. In fact those who lose a lot of fat suffer from it too.

We are all guilty of shaming ourselves at one point or another. Be it something on our face or another part of our body. The question we have to ask now though is, why?

Why is it that we all do this now? We all judge ourselves so harshly that we no longer see ourselves as lovely, or perfect. Instead its I need to lose more weight, or slim down, or I am not skinny enough to wear that. I am very guilty of this to be honest, I gaze over pretty dresses and say wow fat chance I could ever pull that off. I dress according to what is  seen as attractive. What ever that might be. When did it become okay to have others say what is okay for us to wear? You see a larger woman wearing a swim suite that shows off her belly and a lot of people will look away disgusted. WHY? Why is it okay that we insult each other like this? Did you know there was a time when a thicker woman was seen as more desirable? Men wanted a woman who was a little thicker due to she was healthy! Now woman are starving themselves to try to have men look their way. We do all we can to avoid being seen as gross or shameful in others eyes. WHen is it okay for us to be us again?

When did clothing company’s stop making clothes that fit everyone and only make them for a select few? When did this become okay? Just a little food for thought.

The Project Called Me.

Everyone Mommy out there has something they would change or work on, and here I am all I would like is to feel something other than frustration and shame. That is right, shame…can you even imagine what its like to wake every morning and look at yourself thinking nothing about you is good enough?

For those who have been following I am now two weeks in on my meds for my postpartum depression (PPD), and I know it takes time for it to make you feel normal or some what normal again. Around four to six weeks according to my Dr. However I am still not feeling anything, I am numb.

When it comes to things that don’t deal with my two younger children (18 months and 7 weeks) I can feel. I laugh and play with my older three, but the younger two, I feel like the worst woman in the world. I lay in bed and think of how shameful i have been towards them. I mean I can watch my little one cry and not feel compelled to help him. I watch my daughter run about and reach her hands up for me to pick her up, and do I want to? The answer is no, I don’t. I feel so disconnected with my own blood that is scares me. Will I ever have the connection with them? Will I ever feel like me again? I noticed this last friday that I didn’t shower for a whole week. ONE WHOLE WEEK!!! I only noticed due to my husband asked me when the last time i showered was. For those who dont know me, I am the type to shower at least minimum once every other day, if not every day. I didn’t notice folks, and to be honest I didn’t care. I didn’t want to get wet, I did not care if I even smelled bad. I merely pulled my hair back into a bun for work and went on my day. I used things to mask the fact I didn’t wash. I dont care who you are folks, but that’s nasty.  That is not WHO I am, but as of late it is.

Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Am I boomed to be that mother who has the half brushed hair, finger printed glasses, and wrinkled stained clothes? The woman who gives up on herself and in time no one wants to be around?

This seems to only be in effect truly when I am at home, for when I am at work I can think, feel and react as I should to other Humans. At home I am empty and hollow. How can so much be going right in my job, and so much be going wrong with me on the inside. I have started training to be promoted at my job, and working harder and harder to show and prove that i belong there. However I feel like when it comes to me I have given up. I just do not care anymore.

Looking at these tinny little white pills last night I asked myself is there really a point behind me taking them anymore? Are these truly going to make me, me again? Or am I facing yet another pipe dream? Am I forever going to be this broken mess that I am on the inside? Will I ever know what it will feel like to be touched by my youngest children as I did with my older three? Will these tinny white pills make my world see color again, because right now I feel like I am in a world that is built-in shades of whites, blacks and grays.

When talking to others about how I am feeling or what is going on, I am told so many things. “Your so brave to talk about it” “Your not alone” “You can talk to me” and so many other well ment thoughts. However I am not brave, I publish my crazy for a bunch of others to read. None of whom know who I am, and even then its only half the crazy. When they tell me I am not alone, or I am not the first mom to go through this, I just want to scream at them! Then where are they? Do they feel normal yet? When does the unfeeling go away? Or does the moments that I do feel (which is more pain than anything) turn from crying my eyes out to being happy once more? The last person who told me I could talk to them hasn’t spoken to me since. Top it off, I suck at talking about this stuff out loud. Writing seems to be the only outlet I can be honest about it.

Anyways, this was my update on the PPD that is going on so far. I shall post next week another update to see how things are going. Maybe things will be better by then.

The Struggle is Real

When a new Mommy is told that its normal to be a little blue after the new baby we nod and again tell ourselves “It wont happen to me.” We never truly prepare our self for the fact it just might happen to us. We are not told the shocking questions the doctors will ask us, and we are not told how others might look at us. When the Doctors ask how you’re doing we want to say everything is great. Even when your crying into your pillow at night and not sleeping.

I am guilty of this, I cry, and cry and cry into my pillow shoving it into my face so I wont wake my husband up. Why am I crying? I have no idea. It might be the nasty vivid dreams I am having, or the fact I don’t feel anything at all.

They don’t prepare you for the numbness you will fee when you look down at your baby who is looking up at you with trusting eyes. They dont tell you all the things that will run in your head. The thoughts of what might harm the baby and what it might look like. The moments of looking down at the baby as they cry and you have nothing compelling you to pick him up. Instead you walk away letting them cry their little eyes out, and they dont prepare you for the gut retching guilt for feeling this way.
Depression after having a baby IS IN FACT NORMAL! However we don’t always notice that we have it. Not all woman get the flashy warning signs. I didn’t. I thought the crying was due to i felt guilty for going back to work before he was two weeks old. I thought my crying was stress from work and bills. I thought my crying was due to the headaches was getting everyday. In time i stopped crying while awake and told myself to stop being a baby about it all.

That in turn did more damage than good. I stopped crying when awake only to start doing it in my sleep, that’s when my husband discovered i had been at all. He then started to notice the other warning signs and pulled me aside. I broke down, I felt like a bad mom.
I still do. I am almost one week into taking meds for my depression, and I know that it will take more than a week for it to kick in. So far I have felt no chance. I am still numb, still finding reason to leave the house early to come into work so I can just focus on something else. I know this isn’t healthy, I know this is not me dealing with the issue at hand. However for now it’s all I have. My husband says I have stopped crying, and instead i am jerking awake at night from the dreams. That has only lesson to about 3-4 times at night, so I walk around feeling just as tired as when I went to bed.

I am sharing this as I am, due to I know that I can not be the only Mom going through this. I know I am not the only Mom, who looks at herself in the mirror and body shames herself also. BUt that is for another topic on another day.

So for now, Mommies who know what I am talking about. Know this, you are not alone.

How Hard Moms Take It

Lets take a moment to talk about a topic most of us try to avoid, deprestion.

Its an ugly work, a nasty nasty word that should never be whispered and never be spoken about. So much so Moms keep it hush hush when told they have it.

Postpartum depression is always been seen as ugly to Mothers. We think to ourselves, I wont have to worry about that. I will love my baby and I will love every moment of being a Mom. Or at least thats the lie we tell ourselves. Lets face it, we can’t control if we get it or not, we can only keep in mind the signs of it. Half the time Moms dont even realize they do have it. I am one such mom.

For the last four weeks I kept waking up feel just as sleepy as when I went to bed (Even after a full nights sleep). My head was pounding, and i just felt like someone wrapped several of those storm blankets on me. I felt slow sluggish and not myself to be blunt. I merely thought it was due to the fireworks kids are setting off, or the storms, or stress, any number of diffrent factors as to why for at least 5 weeks I felt this way.

It came to light when my husband woke me one night when he came to bed and found me crying in my sleep. Not a few little cute tears, but full on nasty snot dripping bawling. He woke me up worried, and for the first time I remembered what my dream was about. Normaly I am someone who does remember my dreams, but for the last five weeks I didn’t and couldn’t. My massive headaches that where making me sick, and sluggishness was from the fact I was crying every single night in my sleep. Nasty horrable dreams I dont even want to go into detail about. Dreams that had me tossing and turning all night long and unable to rest properly.

We went into my Docotors office to be seen and no one told me that I would be asked questions that would make me feel even more crazy! Already I was dreaming that had me crying and I had no energy but now this! Was I seeing people who where not there, Was i hearing people who where not there, did i see things in the corners of my eyes? And so many more. I answered each and every last one honestly, only to have her turn to my husband and ask if he trusted me alone with my children. WHAT!!! I was floored. But i had to sit back and think about why they asked me this. Why would they m ake me feel less than what i was? But truth be told, they where not.

I have just started my first few steps in getting some help, I still feel out raged by her askign those questins she asked. However it was to make sure i wouldnt hurt the children, or myself.

 

Random Babblings Part 2

Have you ever had one of those days where you just want to stand up and yell at the top of your lungs? Just give the world the longest finger on your hand and till it to ‘sit and spin’?

Today has been one of those days, some of it might be due to pregnancy however i have had them even before baby. With the pain of little man all day plus people in my face all day i just want to jump on my desk and yell back in their faces “Enough!” I don’t though, i let the syco lady in my head do all that while i plaster on that fake smile i use while at work.

SO many of us have had these days, i suppose i like to set this out there. Much like a co-worker of mine did today. How do you relax? Whats your way of escaping the dregs of what can and has been known to be life from day-to-day.

 

Yes a short post, but still a thoughtful one at least, and its honest.

Pregnancy Rage – It’s Real.

I am sure most woman who have carried a child with in their body for nine months can agree to this one simple fact; Pregnancy Rage is real. I don’t mean when we get sad and cry for no good reason, or when we are happy and cry for no good reason. Or any other time when we just cry for no good reason. That we know what it is, we expect it. Why? We get told about it. We are told its okay and its cute, and its all the baby.

What about that boiling rage that comes with pregnancy though? I have found no one talks about the red-hot rage that boils over. Why? It’s not pretty, cute, or sweet.

The rage i am talking about is the one where you want to scream at someones face for doing something wrong for the sixth time in a row, after you have corrected and explained how to do it. I don’t mean that frustration we feel when a child who is LEARNING to do something. I am talking co-workers, friends, and our better half. I am talking about how they can not seem to put their dirty clothes in the allotted spot by the washer, or how they can’t seem to pick up after themselves leaving you to walk into work and clean before you start your day. I am talking people making comments about your bump, and how BIG you are. Side note; NEVER TELL A Pregnant WOMAN HOW BIG SHE LOOKS!!! Most of them do not like it. In fact we beat ourselves up over it. Forget the fact we are already questioning what shape we will be when this little one comes out, or even the whole what clothes will fit me after. I am talking, we worry about if we will be seen as attractive after as we where before. I know I never fully bounced back. In fact a lot of moms suffer from the ‘Mothers Apron’, and hate it. Why they call it an apron I have no idea. However its there, and it’s not sexy.

Pregnancy Race, Its real and it affects a lot of woman, if we show a lot of it during that time we are looked at as if we are crazy so we bottle it up. Which in turn turns into that cute crying. We say we don’t know, but in fact it’s that we are angry. Angry at the light that turned red after a much to short green light. We are angry that when someone asks “What do you want for dinner” All you can say is “I dont know”. Angry at the fact we are huffing and puffing when we reach the top of the stairs. We are angry over the pain that just carrying the little in our bodies. We are angry because some one came into work and started to yell or make demands they know you ca not do. We are angry! In fact, I feel Halk angry, which means i am angry all the time!

More often than not all we want is to have someone not look at us like some sort of freak show, we already feel like one. We want to sit back and have a glass of wine with our friends like everyone else. We want to go out and enjoy company and stay out late. Instead we are sitting at home with our grape juice or what ever, in pain and wondering if its worth walking up those stairs and getting winded.

Pregnancy Rage, it leaves us yelling at you in our head, saying all the nastiest things coming from us that normally only come out from retail work on black friday. You know the time of year, where you leave your thanksgiving to work so people can start their christmas shopping on thanksgiving day. yeah we have all worked it, or at least most of us. Just think of that feeling, that anger, that anxiety…ALL DAY.

So the next time you see a pregnant woman, don’t tell her ‘Wow your so big’ Tell her instead she looks lovely, or shes glowing.