It is not new news that I battle with Depression. I recently even got back on meds for it (which btw I had a horrid reaction too) and recently started seeking counseling for. Sometimes I don’t like posting much about my depression. Not really because I don’t want to talk about it but more so because I don’t really think anyone cares to listen.
I have noticed that people like to hear good things vs. bad. Even today with in 20 minutes of posting on Instagram that I lost my mojo I lost 4 followers. It’s no biggie really but it does make me feel less inclined to share at times.
The fact is I am depressed. I have been depressed for quiet sometime now. To the point that I felt I needed some help. My state got even worse after my birthday weekend. Not only did my children seem to forget it was my birthday, I planned my anniversary/bday weekend with no contribution from hubby I started to get down. This then followed by hubby talking to me about how he didn’t want another child.
We have been talking about another child for about two years. In fact this year my actual motivation for getting serious, the reason I invested into personal trainers, and etc was because I wanted to get my body down to a healthier place to where I could have as healthy of a pregnancy as possible. DH wasn’t always on board with the baby thing but seemed to be okay with it the past year. Willing to see where things go.
While I understand a 100% all his reasons, being told that I was no longer going to have any more babies EVER, was like a kick in the gut (or more so ovaries). I was hurt. I mean his logic wasn’t bad and I understand all his fears and his concerns. Hell sometimes, I think I am CRAZY for ever wanting anymore children. Seriously, I have plenty lol BUT still, the idea was there. I saw each one of my children before I had them. I know it sounds crazy but I knew about each one. And I saw this one too.
But the thing is I don’t want a husband who resents me years down the line or our child all for a vision. I want this to be just as much of something he wants as well as me. While, I know logically we will be just fine with another child and financially it won’t change anything, I also have to respect my husbands wishes.
This combined with my birthday AND my first counseling session (which somehow made things worse) just caused a flood of emotions. I felt like I didn’t know what to do with me. This journey was so much easier when I had a goal. The thing is I KNEW with the amount of weight I am wanting to lose I wasn’t going to have some rocking body.
I don’t want to be negative here, but lets face it I have hanging fat as it is right now (and I am not even going to call this skin because it’s fat) and it hangs. It’s not pretty. And while, yes, I KNOW that the end goal is to be HEALTHY I also know that you don’t go from losing 200lbs plus, having hanging fat to this awesome rocking body. (At least not with out surgery).
I know it’s vain. I do…. But I know being skinny won’t mean I will like the outcome of my body. Period. So it does have to be for the HEALTH of things. That’s great and all… Except I have been on this journey for 5 years (and we are not counting my life time of being thicker and over weight) but the 5 years of actually trying to lose weight and yet, I am still here in the same place. I have done more in these 5 years then I have EVER in my whole.
I have done more than I ever did when I weighed 125lbs. Never at that time did I eat healthy, or exercise or even do the exercises I can do at 300lbs. And yet I fucking weigh 300 mother fucking pounds. Like seriously. I hate that my body hangs, my breast hang, my stomach looks in a way I don’t even recognize. The hell with stretch marks, I can live with those. Hell I have had those since I was like 12 years old.
I hate that I have a blood disorder that even if I lost all the weight that skin removal probably wouldn’t be wise, that weight loss surgery could be a death sentence, that I am stuck in this body. And even my body aside I hate the way that I feel and no matter what I do to change it I still feel the way I do.
I feel very much done…. Not done in the point that I am just gonna off myself, because I have decided long ago that just isn’t something I can do. No, just in a way where I am waiting… Waiting for whatever powers it maybe that I can FINALLY get to go. I try in the meantime to deal with what has been given me and make the best of it. But that urge to finally feel free. The urge to finally go. It feels amazing. I LONG for it.
It’s not sad and depressing to me it’s like when someone is old and grey and they are ready to go… Except I’m not old or grey. I just am tired. So very tired. Tired of everything. Tired of trying and still failing all.the.time. Tired of feeling lonely, tired of not relating to anyone (and vice versa), tired of not knowing what to do with myself, tired of not being smart enough, tired of losing my memory, my hearing, tired of my body, my health, my kids fighting, my messy house, cleaning, not clean, my husband upset at the lack of cleaning, etc.
I am just tired….. You would think damn woman, why on earth would you even want another child???? Ya know what? I think it’s because in pregnancy I felt something, I felt important, feeling your child move is amazing, child birth is amazing, being a new mom feels amazing (and tiring lol). I LOVE babies and toddlers…. although, the older they get the more annoying they can be at times, there is also great days. I LOVE watching the people they become. They give me a reason to get up. Sometimes, the only reason I am even here. I DO actually get joy out of the experience. At the same time I logically know I can’t have kids until the end of time just to have this lol.
I just don’t know anymore….. I thought for so long that I was going to be a midwife, I wanted it so bad and then I had such a traumatic birth of my last child and now it’s different. It’s not because I don’t trust birth or anything but I saw birth in a different way. I always saw birth in this one light and then I saw this dark side. I didn’t know how to handle it? I don’t distrust midwives at all, nor the process I just saw it in the eyes of fear of things being missed (and yet I was under the care of a hospital mind you lol). I don’t know. Then I found out the school I wanted to go in is requiring that I take the SAT again. This has given me SEVERE anxiety. I DON’T test well, I didn’t do well in school. I mean I did but it’s because I didn’t learn crap. I don’t consider myself in general all that smart.
I can learn things and I felt confident I could learn what I needed in the program. But to test about crap I was taught (or not taught) over 18 years ago had me kind of freaking the hell out. I started second guessing even going to school all together. Which I know is silly because I will be tested on the midwifery too but that will be right there fresh on my mind. Everything will be taught to me, it won’t be me remembering things from yester-year lol.
I started wondering if I would even be a good midwife? If I wanted to be a midwife? I knew I did but did I want all the risks and draw backs that come with it. I mean I knew the positives but was I willing to also live with the negatives. Long hours, not really having days off, no vacations really, sometimes pay isn’t always great depending on the practice, and things can go wrong and the wrong move even if I didn’t do anything wrong can break my career. It’s a big decision. I thought to myself if I don’t do this, what on earth would I do.
I knew I didn’t want to live my life going from job to job. I wanted what I did with myself to mean something. And yet, I don’t even feel motivated most days to get out of bed. I am constantly conflicted with feelings of possibly to the realities of things not working out like I hoped. I feel like my life is one disappointment after another. Nothing seems to go quite right. I have tried to be positive, I even tried to accept it, but it’s just so hard. So I know this is LONG as always and really it’s okay if you don’t even read…. But this why I have been quiet.
I haven’t even started my 90 day challenge (which I was considering after the 4th since I had so much going on in June but July was free and clear) I knew I needed a stretch of months of nothing really to keep me on course. And even then, I just.don’t.care… I don’t know how long this will last but I am finding as I get older and older these spells are started to feel more like a defeat vs just bouts of depression. I am started to feel pretty beaten down and I not sure how many more times I can try to be positive in hopes some how, some way this feeling will just disappear? Where is my happy pill? I want my happy ending… Sigh…. Sorry to be the bummer…