Friday, June 8, 2012

Anxiety

Here are things I like about being a Mommy: The Baby
Here are things I don't like about being a Mommy: Everything except the baby.

Oh the baby is more than I could have ever asked for. He's beautiful and sweet, he laughs at everything, and lights up when he sees me, lights up even more when he sees Daddy.

But Mommy is a wreck. My body is tored up. Not just from my C-section and pregnancy (it's been 7 months already). But by lack of sleep. I keep getting sick. Like really sick. My anxiety is through the roof, so even if the baby can sleep, I can't. We moved him into his own room last week and it's been horrible for me. I keep watching him on the baby monitor and I can't see his little body moving, so I can't detect breath, so I have to get up and walk into his room to see if he's breathing. I do that many, many times a night. I am getting migraines, I am getting sore throats and bad colds constantly. And did I mention my hernia from carrying him? And my inability to digest gluten? My stomach is wrecked. And I've become agorophobic. I'm afraid of being outside without him. Afraid that someone will kill me and leave him without me. I'm afraid that because I'm not sleeping and my immune system is compromised, I'm going to get cancer and die. I'm afraid (really afraid) that someone is going to break into our apartment in the middle of the night and kill us.

To make matters worse, husband has been working late for the past 2 weeks. Last Friday night he didn't even get home till close to 11. I was by myself watching Forrest Gump. I watched it once before, 18 years ago with my boyfriend at the time. I was high. I laughed at all  inappropriate moments. That wasn't good.  I got one of my friends to give me a prescription for Ativan (I'm a psychologist so I have lots of friends who can do things like that). She made me promise that I wouldn't take it and breastfeed for 6 hours. I've been taking 1/2 of the lowest dose possible it each night before I go to sleep, after the baby is down. But there's no way it's 6 hours until I breastfeed again. So then I sit there and ruminate about how I'm totally fucking up the baby's brain.  I finally made an appointment with a therapist. But I'm a horrible therapy client. I really am. I would never want me as a client. I'm what my kinds calls "resistant."  I also made an appointment with an acupuncturist and a meditation lady because I need a little self care that has nothing to do with the baby.

I'm also in the process of publishing a book on something psychology related. I like this blog because I can put my fucking a mess parts up here and no one will know it's me. Because I'm a fucking mess inside right now. But outside, you should see me. I present like I've got all my shit together. HAHAHA! If anyone knew. If my clients knew how anxious I am. How I use and abuse alcohol, pills, food.  Not excessively. But still, I do. I'm so far from perfect. Which is fine. I don't expect to be, nor do I need to be. But this time of life is so, so very hard.

I miss my Mommy like crazy. She's dead. She's been dead for 10 years. I watched her die of a disgusting disease. She was 54. When I'm 54 my baby will be 17 years old. I hope he doesn't have to watch me die.   I cry for my mom all the time. I feel so alone here on the other side of the country from the rest of my family.  I hate husband for keeping me on this stupid coast that's full of *annoying ass fuckers. I hate him for keeping me here because he loves his less than 70,000 per year job. I used to be the breadwinner, but now I have to take care of baby. And I'm so fucking tired. Goddamnit I'm tired. And I'm sick. I'm so fucking sick with whatever cough/cold/sore throat. And my body hurts. My neck and shoulders hurt. Like hell. I popped a vicodin yesterday leftover from my C-section. It made me feel worse. I suffered all day long with a goddamned migraine.

And I feel like a single parent because husband is always fucking working. Stupid fucking workaholic just for the sake of having to do everything to the extreme. I know he's working and not acting out, before you ask.

My body and mind are on hyper alert and all I want to do is sleep. I need sleep. I'm depressed, I'm anxious, I'm a wreck.

Thanks for listening.


*this should read "annoying-ass fuckers" not "annoying ass-fuckers," this is not meant to be homophobic or critical of anal love making.