I’ve been battling depression since having my oldest, who will be six in June. I used to think it was post-partum depression, and that it would eventually go away, but now that my youngest is three, and the depression is getting worse, I guess I have to assume it’s something else.
I’m currently blaming my thyroid, which is probably pretty accurate, but to be honest with you, it’s also my kids.
My kids. They are constant. They are noise and touching and neediness. They are nonstop, even at night now. There is no rest, even when I’m resting, because I know that at any second they will be up, and so will I.
I never wanted to have kids. I knew my mentality wasn’t for kids. I had kids because my husband wanted a kid, and I would give my husband the moon, if he asked. And even though I struggled with my daughter, I didn’t have THIS hard of a time. My son is hard headed and horrible. He hits, kicks, screams. He says “no” more than he takes breaths. He is pure strength and noise. He has worn me down, and now there is nothing left. I feel empty of compassion and love. I wake up every morning, wishing I was somewhere else. Wishing they were someone elses responsibility. Wishing my husband and I were rich enough to have someone else do it all while we did whatever we wanted.
Even my husband is tired and frustrated, and I joke that he is about 98% robot. We are always irritated and never get any real time together, besides an hour or so a few nights a week. We are struggling, and it’s mostly because I am struggling.
I told him I need help. So we are trying to send my son to a neighbors house a few times a week so she can watch him for me while my daughter is at school. I’m also going to go to the doctor and try to get my thyroid (or whatever) in check. I know something is messed up because my body temperature keeps dropping to 95.9. Something is off physically, could it be causing all of this mental strife?
I feel like this post is all over the place and spacey. I feel like I can’t really get my thoughts across in a way that makes sense or really explains what I’m feeling. To sum it up, I feel nothing. Nothing but a longing to be somewhere else.
Am I alone in this motherhood struggle? Is anyone else empty of joy?
It’s been almost six years since I’ve felt like myself. Or, an old version of myself that I liked more. I asked my husband if I seemed like the same person and he said “no, you don’t seem happy.” He’s right. I’m not.
Will I ever be happy again?