It’s funny, just when you think you have this thing beaten, just when you’re ready to throw your arms up in victory, when you have the best day to date and you
know think you’re all better… someone or something called life throws a damn wrench in it all!
I sit at home doing the same monotonous things on a daily basis: Walk Makenna to the bus stop, make the beds, take the dog out, feed Kendall, put on Beauty & The Beast. While Kendall is now occupied with her favorite movie I do the dishes, vacuum, sweep, steam mop what seems like the entire house, clean the bathrooms (yes, on a daily basis!), pick up toys, do laundry, etc.
I don’t even feel like I’m living a life anymore. I feel like I’m just going through life according to a planned schedule. Nothing ever really changes from day to day for me. I can’t even tell you the last time I actually did my hair and makeup. Maybe… a month ago and I wasn’t even going anywhere.. I just wanted to feel pretty for a day. I was looking at *old* (and by that I mean… 3-4 years ago maybe) pictures of myself and I cannot believe that I did my hair and makeup everyday. I sometimes wonder what my husband thinks of me. When he met me I wore makeup, I did my hair… not every day but sometimes. Now? Nothing.
I often wondering if he is actually attracted to me anymore. If he thinks, “Where did my hot wife go?!”. I for 1 know I think those things, so he must.
Sureee on his days off, John will help take some of that load off but even then it doesn’t really feel like it at the end of the day. On my husband’s days off, he likes to hang out, play Xbox. Like I said, he does pick up some of my slack but if he changes 2 diapers it then becomes, “I changed the last one, it’s your turn honey” to which I respond with, “Oh really? Well how about the 15 diapers I changed yesterday! Are you going to make up for those!?” I end up winning but I just wish stupid things like that wouldn’t happen.
From those little things though, I begin to hate everything. I begin to think that my husband doesn’t even care about me or my feelings at all.
I mean sure, my husband works his ASS off all the time for us and I am blessed with being able to stay home for a year now but I really wish he’d help out more. His days off from work should be my days off from… life. I don’t want to change Kendall, I don’t want to have to hold her all day, give her a bath at night or anything. I just want to bask in her cute baby self… when she’s not crying! When Makenna gets home from school I just want to be able to play with her instead of telling her I can’t because Sister needs me.
Some days I seriously think I have beaten PPD. I get so high on the happiness of that day that I literally do not take my medicine at night. Why? Well, in a word, I guess I’m just crazy. I begin to think, “this day was perfect. I didn’t yell, I had fun, I was laughing, playing. I’m not depressed!” The next day… ha, I’m a complete bitch again. I feel like my world is crashing down around me. Nothing goes right what so ever.
At the end of the day what do I honestly have to be sad about though? Honestly? I live in a nice house, I have a wonderful family, a great husband and 2 wonderful kids whom I love dearly.