i'm not feeling all that much like myself these days. it's hard to sound the alarms when you're not sure which flag to raise. is it post partum depression/anxiety? is it the identity crisis associated with the loss of employment? stockholm syndrome from the 85+ degree daily temps keeping you alone indoors with two children - every - single- day? is it the facebook 'on this day' reminders that pop up, reminding you of the fun loving, FREE, young woman you once were - galavanting on miscellaneous adventures and enjoying life?
i don't know. i do know that i'm sad, though. and lonely. and isolated from the world.
i love my husband. i love my children. i'm privileged enough to be able to spend the days i have with my two young boys, and on a couple days a week, i even am lucky enough to have help from the boys' grandparents to help wrangle the toddler and leave me with a few hours to 'bond' with the baby who's not as tiny of a baby as he once was. my kids are healthy, and for the most part happy. my two year old is sweet and smart as a whip. my husband and i do not have money troubles.
so how can i feel justified to vocalize the feelings of sadness i'm currently experiencing on a daily basis? i can't. i don't. but i feel them, they're real. i cry, every day. not usually any longer than 30-60 seconds, and when i do, i don't usually realize it until i'm wiping my eyes.
i don't feel accomplished. i'm normally a busy body - always on the move. cleaning, cooking, playing, chasing children. running errands. i used to walk two to file miles a day just in my regular routine.
these days, i'm lucky if i clock 200 steps on my pedometer. 'it's too hot.' which it is - but i know deep down it's an excuse of sorts. like at a job you hate, when you have no work to do, or too much to do - that crippling feeling of not being able to even lift a finger. but i like my job - or at least my kids, anyway. i don't have a 'j-o-b,' i just am a mom. and am raising two little boys two years apart. and they're fantastic. but oh my god i'm so tired, even after a full night's sleep. and i can't say what it is. the isolation? the jealousy of not having the freedom for a pedicure with a mimosa? first world problems, i know.
maybe a job would help. but the job hunt is just as big of a confidence blow. not because i can't get a job, i nearly have an offer waiting for me next week. but because i don't know what i want to be, or am, when i grow/grew up. my last title isn't really what i am, because i lack the formal training. and what i want to do requires another degree, despite others in the field saying not really. it took me thirty minutes yesterday clicking what kind of jobs i'm even looking for on the state employment site, in order to qualify for unemployment. i couldn't even classify in one or two words what it is i can do, or want to do.
wearing something, anything, other than the same milk stained tank top for the fourth consecutive day is one goal. walking around the block is another. buying new underwear is a third - but that requires spending money that i don't have to spend. seeing people. a concert. hopping in my car for an impromptu road trip. going to the bathroom without an audience. losing five pounds - even though i have fifteen to lose. feeling like my days count for something - anything.
it's all the same. but if/when i do return to work - then what? i leave my boys with someone else, not the qualified daycare centers because yeah right, i don't even make what they charge for two kids, but instead of an over extended sitter that my boys cry at when i drop them off. talk about heart breaking.
so instead, i sacrifice myself. my identity. my fire. my very existence. because that's parenthood, right? sacrificing yourself for your kids? which is ok. but i didn't feel this same emptiness with my first. given, i had a job to return to. and tending to one immobile baby is easier than battling a strong willed toddler and needy infant. but it's not the struggle of the challenge of watching the children. and it's not the lack of confidence associated without having a real job. it's just this - isolation. and repetitiveness. it is enough to break you - or me, i guess. i just wonder what my actual breaking point is. is this sadness normal? is this post partum stuff? i don't think about ever harming myself or my kids, so i'm not concerned. that's what the checkboxes at the baby wellness exams seem to screen for. i'm not gonna do anything to endanger anyone. unless tears and excessive screen time to appease your children is harmful, i don't know.
i don't really know where i'm going with this. i guess i'm just hoping writing helps me relate to myself and get stuff off my chest. connect with other mamas who've undergone the struggle.
i know i need to cherish these moments and that they're fleeting. having two little sugary sweet mama's boys before they're gross stinky masturbatory rebellious teens. i'll miss the days of hearing angelic tiny voices tell me they love me, or smile gummy rainbows at me.
but i'd be lying if i said i felt good. or even ok, on some days. it's like i'm just on auto pilot. and it's not a 'night out' that can fix it. i've had a couple of those, and they were awesome, but hangovers with children cause more problems than they fix. and retail therapy doesn't really work if you buy cute clothes or accessories and never get to wear them anywhere. i'm my own biggest obstacle. i know millions of moms are able to function on daily routines with multiple children, summer heat or not. but it's just so hard to find the confidence and motivation.
even now, it's just me and a sleeping infant. the toddler is with his grandma, having a fantastic time at the botanic gardens. and i'm (sort of) dressed. i have non athletic shorts on, at least. (but the milk stained tank top is def on point). i'm caffeinated. i have a car. i COULD hop in my car and go somewhere. but. . . . i don't know.
i just want to be me, again. feel the feels. do the things. function.
i post all these pictures on social media of my smiling, funny little boys. i love them more than i've ever loved anything or anyone. that is not a front.
but this is the flipside of being a mom, at least for me. the mental instability. the lack of independence or fire i used to blaze. instead - i'm just a spaghettio slinging, gap attired, birkenstock sporting cliche.
some day it will get better, yeah? in the meanwhile, if any of you feel up to giving me a hug, or a coffee, or a sandwich, an encouraging text message, or even just a visit (if i'm not too anxiety ridden to accept - b/c that struggle is ALSO real and it makes about as much sense as it sounds), i could probably use it. hopefully some day i can be the support system you need. it's not easy to ask for help, especially when you don't know what you're asking help for. but - help?
