In which I attempt to just get over myself and be happy
This morning I got out of bed before 4 p.m. I even got a much needed haircut by 1. On a Saturday. When the kids were at the Drunken Teenage Nana's all day (Drunken Teenage Nana also goes by "Mom," "Nana," and "DTN"). I haven't done this in ages as I've been poorly attempting to cure this depression on my own for several months. What am I depressed about you ask? Good question, Gidget.
I suffered depression once before after the birth of my first son. I have no idea how the second child ever came along; I have no recollection of letting that man get near me. Fucking fertile breeder. I had classic post-partum depression with a side of man hatin' thrown in just for fun. Later in my life, I finally started looking at why I acted the way I did during those 18 months. This only occured after having enough distance to better understand it.
My post-partum depression was characterized by apathy toward general functioning, crying on the baby as we entered our 20th hour in bed, using breastfeeding as a way to escape the ex's family (many of them thought it was "gross" so I retired to another room to do it), fantasizing about leaving my then-husband to the point of mechanically writing identical budgets on over 20 notebooks detailing what I would need to live as a single mom, developing a harmful view of my body that I still struggle with today, and allowing the then-husband to move his girlfriend into our house.
The moment I gave birth to Brett my hormones threw my ass out of the depression, allowing me to regain functionality. I moved out and got a divorce.
Generally, I've been okay since. I've had some short occurances but for whatever reason, I've gotten through them. However, this depression has turned ugly and has apparently chosen to stay for the long haul. I'm worried because I have very few reasons to bitch and I have many, many reasons to rejoice. This is obviously not a situational problem...ergo, I may be in a real depression. However, I will allow a licensed someone to make that diagnosis.
Reasons to bitch:
1) My mother is yet again going through adolescence. I think we're on her twelfth by now. It entails moving into high-gear alcoholism and acting a fool with her latent-gay boyfriend. Keep an eye out for posts about the DTN, involving said drunkeness and latent-gay boyfriend...and Usher. Oh yes, there's Usher.
2) I am mourning the PhD a bit. I won't be getting one now or perhaps ever. I'm tired. I want a nap more than I want to be called Dr.
Reasons to be happy:
1) My marriage is amazing. We've had some bumpy-puke-in-your-roller-coaster-seat times, but we are more in love with each other than I think we ever were. But then again, we met and started doing it.
2) I'm graduating with a Masters. From pregnant teen to Masters, suck on it doubters.
3) I landed the job I never thought I'd get. I penetrated an institution sacred to me, without much lubricant.
4) Mike landed his dream job at a cool place after a year and a half search.
5) Most importantly, my kids are cool. Really.
Mike has officially declared May 1 as the deadline for seeking therapy and druggage.
I suffered depression once before after the birth of my first son. I have no idea how the second child ever came along; I have no recollection of letting that man get near me. Fucking fertile breeder. I had classic post-partum depression with a side of man hatin' thrown in just for fun. Later in my life, I finally started looking at why I acted the way I did during those 18 months. This only occured after having enough distance to better understand it.
My post-partum depression was characterized by apathy toward general functioning, crying on the baby as we entered our 20th hour in bed, using breastfeeding as a way to escape the ex's family (many of them thought it was "gross" so I retired to another room to do it), fantasizing about leaving my then-husband to the point of mechanically writing identical budgets on over 20 notebooks detailing what I would need to live as a single mom, developing a harmful view of my body that I still struggle with today, and allowing the then-husband to move his girlfriend into our house.
The moment I gave birth to Brett my hormones threw my ass out of the depression, allowing me to regain functionality. I moved out and got a divorce.
Generally, I've been okay since. I've had some short occurances but for whatever reason, I've gotten through them. However, this depression has turned ugly and has apparently chosen to stay for the long haul. I'm worried because I have very few reasons to bitch and I have many, many reasons to rejoice. This is obviously not a situational problem...ergo, I may be in a real depression. However, I will allow a licensed someone to make that diagnosis.
Reasons to bitch:
1) My mother is yet again going through adolescence. I think we're on her twelfth by now. It entails moving into high-gear alcoholism and acting a fool with her latent-gay boyfriend. Keep an eye out for posts about the DTN, involving said drunkeness and latent-gay boyfriend...and Usher. Oh yes, there's Usher.
2) I am mourning the PhD a bit. I won't be getting one now or perhaps ever. I'm tired. I want a nap more than I want to be called Dr.
Reasons to be happy:
1) My marriage is amazing. We've had some bumpy-puke-in-your-roller-coaster-seat times, but we are more in love with each other than I think we ever were. But then again, we met and started doing it.
2) I'm graduating with a Masters. From pregnant teen to Masters, suck on it doubters.
3) I landed the job I never thought I'd get. I penetrated an institution sacred to me, without much lubricant.
4) Mike landed his dream job at a cool place after a year and a half search.
5) Most importantly, my kids are cool. Really.
Mike has officially declared May 1 as the deadline for seeking therapy and druggage.
posted by Sugared Harpy at 1:43 AM
1 Comments:
Someone can help you Sis. Just be open to suggestion. I love you :)
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