I have absolutely no valid reason to be depressed. None whatsoever. I'm very lucky and HUGELY blessed. My family is healthy. We live comfortably. We don't necessarily "want" for anything (but do our best to plan and save for larger purchases.) My children are fine....relatively speaking.. With me as their Mom there is a little more wiggle room regarding what is considered "fine.." We have a roof over our heads. I have a great job. I/we haven't experienced any great tragedies to speak of. I work with people I like and who, I think, like me back most of the time. I have some very good friends and 2 sisters I love dearly. So what the fleck is wrong with me?!?! Why do I feel like I"m cocooned in a big soggy blanket more days than not? Why are there days I absolutely do not care what people are saying and purposely tune them out while they're talking? Why do I find it so damned difficult just to roll out of bed most days? What the hell?
I try so hard to be positive. In almost everything I do. Not cheery begging-to-be-slapped kind of positive. That's ridiculous. Realistic, sarcastically positive, I guess, would be a better description. I feel like I wear the mask pretty well., too. I hear other's troubles, try to help how I can, and say prayers of thanks that my troubles are so insignificant. And then I can't stop crying because of a bug bite on my knee. Like laying on the floor weeping and bawling, can't gather your own thoughts crying.
Some days I'll go all cry-baby in the middle of the day. Lots of days, in fact. I'll get 3 phone calls in a row or someone will just walk in to ask me a question and I'll have to pinch the crap out of my own arm so as not to lose it. Seriously. Other days it begins in the morning. I'll hear the boys talking and goofing off (basically just being BROTHERS) then Little Man will say "Stop it!" He always says "Stop it." He's not hurt. Nothing is wrong with him other than he just doesn't like what Big Red is doing at that moment. But it sends me into a frenzy. Within 4 seconds I'm clutching my head, tearing out into the hallway with crazy eyes bugging out of my skull. My hands are balled up so tightly that my nails leave small cuts in my palms. "WHY do you guys have to DO this shit EACH and EVERY damned DAY?!?! HUH? WHY!?!?!?" On the sane side of my mind, I know its not a big deal. I really do. Nothing to get all freaky over. Its actually fine to just ignore it. But the crazy side has already taken over and I can barely see straight. I can't control CrazyGirl at all. Its like she jumps out of my normal-person skin and throws up drama before I even know she's there. I hurl myself back into the bathroom, slam the door and start crying. What the heck? Over nothing. Absolutely NOTHING. At 7:30 in the morning.
I'm lucky to have my boys. I've talked with both of them and tried to explain what I feel and when I feel it. I've told them that sometimes Mom;'s brains and feelings just get too full and can't hold anything more until something else comes out. And that when I go crazy, I'm not going crazy at THEM...its just AT them. In their direction, more like it. That there's so much trying to get out of my head that it all rushes out really quickly and really loudly. they understand. I think they really do. Big Red will wrap his arms around me and quietly just say "chill Momma. Its ok." Little Man says "I know what you need...a big hug." And he'll wrap his whole body around me and squeeze as rightly as possible. It makes me feel better, but also makes me feel guilty. that my own children are having to talk me off a ridiculous ledge that I have no reason to be on. that's a lot of pressure on them. too much.
Some days I feel physically exhausted from trying to hold it all together all day long. I realize that sounds completely bizarre. But I will honestly feel a change in my body when I walk in the door of my home and see my couch. Or my bed. My shoulders will drop some, my forhead relaxes a little, my jaws unclench. Hell, even my feet and legs will sometimes just let go and I have to drop where ever I am. The boys look at me like "ohhhhh...are we having an episode or are we honestly just worn out?" Most of the time I just play it off like "OMG! I am soooooo tired" and roll all over the floor. When really I just didn't have the energy to stand up any longer.
Its like life in general, and other people, just suck my will to keep going. And scramble what was once a nicely functioning brain. I crave quiet and solitude, but then get sad and lonely when I'm by myself too long. I can't wait to see my kids after school and touch them.. Smell their hair, feel their hands, and their ears. But when I do see them, and they won't let me touch them, I lose it. I hint at, and talk about, making plans to go out with friends, but then go quiet or fake an illness when the time really comes to go. And then I feel like an ass for not going. I like to tell myself its all hormonal. That I'm beginning "The Change" and that nothing will make sense for quite some time. But in the back of my mind I know its more than that. Much more.