"Jagged Little Pill"

There comes a point in time when you realize you aren't willingly giving yourself to something anymore. The realization had actually been there for months, but I decided to finally admit it to myself two weeks ago. At some point over the last few months, I think I stopped living and started simply surviving. Every day felt like a struggle. Survival until naptime, then survival until bedtime. I would tell Jake that we survived a trip to Target. Last month, we survived the six hour car ride to the beach. Then we survived the beach, but barely (we came back 3 days early). Life became about getting from point A to point B in one piece. I observed other moms when I went out and although I know that nothing is ever what it appears (boy, do I know that one), I started feeling like maybe every other mom except me knew the secret to enjoying their kids. I began to think that maybe I was missing part of the "mom" gene- the one that made me less irritable, more forgiving, more flexible, more....happy. I kept thinking, aren't these are supposed to be the years of our lives- being parents to two beautiful, healthy kids? Isn't this what I always wanted? Why do I feel like this??

So I called my OB and told him I wanted my money back. :)

Okay, not exactly. But I did call him and tell him that this wasn't what I signed up for. Something more was going on. I knew there would be exhaustion, illness, raging hormones, hectic schedules, and days when I would feel like I was barely getting by. But I didn't expect to lose myself in all of it, to forget who I was and the things that I enjoyed. I told him that I couldn't get excited about going shopping, or carving pumpkins, or wine tasting. {gasp?!?!} That Christmas seemed overwhelming instead of occupying it's usual spot as my most favorite time of the year. That I cooked food and ate it, but didn't really taste it. I couldn't finish sentences, couldn't focus. I went to bed exhausted and somehow managed to wake up even more exhausted. My entire body ached. I watched life happen to everyone else but somehow felt like a bystander in my own. I explained how I felt guilty for no reason at all and that I didn't feel like I had anything to bring to the table anymore as a wife, a mother, or a friend. I had given the best of what I had to give for so long, until there was nothing left to give but leftovers. I felt stale, used up. I sobbed to the poor nurse on the phone (she must have been so glad she answered) that I was afraid I would blink- just like everyone promises me that I'll do- and they will be 18 and 16, and when I look back at these "best years"- I'll realize I spent them being numb. I knew if I was going to get better, I had to make myself say it out loud: I think I have PPD.

One script for Zoloft and a couple of weeks later, it's amazing how much better I feel. I feel relieved to know that I wasn't totally losing it after all. I had been carrying something around that wasn't mine to hold onto. A weight was instantly lifted off of me, I think, before I even took the first pill. In hindsight, there were a lot of contributing factors: I'm right in the middle of an exhausting season of life- and there's really no quick fix for that. I'm also a proverbial milk factory for my son, who happens to have the appetite of an NFL linebacker, which keeps me literally "on demand" 24/7 and I think my hormones have hormones now. But I suspect some of my recent restlessness, too, is because I'm simply not pouring my energy into anything else other than my family. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that except for the realization that being a stay-at-home mommy simply isn't enough for me, nor is it bringing out the best in me. And it was an entirely different kind of pill to swallow to finally be okay with admitting that. For so long, I was afraid to actually say it because I thought it meant I had failed. Like, if I actually had a boss as a stay-at-home mom, maybe this would be the part where I had to turn in my two weeks. Maybe I would have even been fired.

But I'm okay with this, with coming to the conclusion that it hasn't turned out how I thought it would. At the end of the day, I have an amazing family. I have two happy, healthy kids, an amazing and devoted husband- and I'm hopelessly in love with all of them. But there's a nagging that something more is required of me outside of this, and I think I finally understand that in a way I haven't since I first became a mom. Maybe something more is required of me because I have so much. I was talking to one of my dearest friends the other day and she said to me, "sometimes, you have to get lost outside of yourself, or you'll be lost inside yourself." It was exactly what I needed to hear.

So now I embark on another journey. I'm not exactly sure what it entails or where it will take me, but for the first time in months, I'm not numb anymore. And that's a great start.