Depression is not something I have much experience with- other than the blues a few days after a baby is born, I can’t think of a time where I couldn’t just snap myself out of it. Don’t get me wrong, I know depression is real; I’m not one of those quacks who thinks you can take vitamins or yell at someone to pull-themselves-up-by-their-bootstraps-ya-wimp. That’s just wrong.
But I think I might actually be depressed. I say “think” because I am really not sure- it’s not like after a baby is born and you cry while you are doing the dishes or taking a shower… It’s more like a morose, lack of luster, why bother, just let me put the same tent-dress on again, feeling. Reasoning tells me that the icky January whether might be playing a part, the fact that I haven’t been to see my family since August, being stuck inside all day with a two and four year old, and the constant, unending barfing, indigestion, nausea and changing of clothes… Sheesh, that’s making me feel worse!
I can’t stand pants on my belly right now, so I have been wearing dresses lately- dresses I made. Oh, yeah. They are as pretty as you are thinking, too (They don’t leave the house). Today, I threw up three times while trying to do the dishes, and then gave up and covered the entire sink with a bath towel so I wouldn’t have to look at it or (worse) smell them. DFM came home, looked around and started laughing. He is doing the dishes as I type- what a good man. Irritable Mama is making irritable kids, too. My poor guys- I feel so bad for how much they see me sick, and wonder how this is all affecting them.
Because of my doctor’s orders, I can’t carry laundry baskets, I can’t take out the garbage, I can’t move boxes of stuff around to organize, I can’t paint the baby’s room, or set up the crib- all of these things I have to wait for the dear, tired, overworked husband to come home to. Somedays I just feel like Jabba the Hutt, unable to get up or move myself, on a platform that just slides to the bathroom and back to the couch again.
So, is this what it feels like? Because if it is, and they offered me a pill that would make me a happy, smiling, even-keeled rock, I might chew my arm off trying to get them.