Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Remember me, old blog? The lady who had children, quit her job to stay home, went crazy, got better, went back to school, became a nurse, starting working, quit facebook, and now has no free time? I'm still here. Still making my way through the miasma of parenting while working. A is now 10 and W is now 7. I can't believe I started this blog 7 years ago. I'm sad I didn't regularly update it because time has flown by so fast that I don't remember what happened in those years since I have posted. I feel like I should start posting again. I miss facebook but I don't miss the drama associated with it. So perhaps I will write here instead?
I love my job. I'm very glad I went back to school to have a career. It is fulfilling to make money doing something I love. Unfortunately, being a working parent is fucking crazy. Especially working night shift.
All these years of focusing on the kids and focusing on school has kind of left my marriage in the toilet. We are working on it. It is a slow process, especially when life inserts itself into everything you do. Suddenly your children have active lives that need your attention to maintain (lessons, school projects, etc.) and it is like one day I looked up and realized that I was out of touch with the man I married 14 years ago. That is the crazy part about time. One day you let something slip thinking your inattention will be a one time thing. Next thing you know a decade has gone by and there is a chasm separating you from your partner. Now we have to climb our way back out. Just one more thing to add to the list of stuff that I need to work on.
My friendships have changed since I went back to work. I only have time to focus on the friends who are important to me and who get where I am at professionally and personally. That meant leaving some friends behind. That was hard.
It seems like I have a lot to talk about. I will come back when I have more time.
Monday, August 13, 2012
I have been waiting for one of my rotations to strike me like lightning and help me decide which population I want to work with the most. I was desperately hoping that Peds wasn't going to be it. Because I knew in my heart of hearts it would be the rotation I took home with me. They would be the patients I would cry my heart out about. But they are also the patients that give me the most hope. I knew in my heart I would love it. I am scared to commit to being a Pediatric Nurse. I think the highs could be amazing. It is the devastating lows that frightens me the most. I feel a connection with Pediatric patients and their parents that makes me want to fight for them harder because they are fresh and new and didn't ask for any of it.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
A is going to be in 1st grade in August. He is a smart kid, but is convinced that he is smarter than most everyone, including me. He may be smarter than most people we meet and may even be smarter than me. But he is not street wise yet like his Mama. He doesn't understand how I know what he is deviously plotting all of the time. I think I am in trouble when he is finally wise enough to pull one over on me. Until then, I will let him believe that I really do have eyes in the back of my head that hide under my hair.
W is starting preschool in August. When I started this blog she was a newborn. Crazy. She never stops talking. She loves to dance and sing. She shows me her "ballet" moves all the time, but most especially when she is wearing a dress. She makes her dolls and animals have distinct voices when she is playing with them. She is just a girly girl. I am not, but for her I try.
Every day I rejoice and regret staying home with them. It has been six years now and while I am glad that I made the decision to stay at home I cannot say that every minute has been a blast. Being a mom has been the most difficult and humbling experience of my life. I am trying to learn not to personalize everything. I do the best that I can. And that has to be good enough.
I am going back through and reading my posts on this blog. It is amazing to me how much insight I have lost in the years since I had PPD. I cannot say that I have truly mastered this disease. While it is probably too late to call this Post Partum Depression, it is still something I struggle with. But I have 95% good days, and the other 5% could be called bad but are by no means as bad as bad once was. Progress! But I dwell in the future too much, which is something I said i would stop doing when I beat PPD. It is just so hard not to fantasize about things to come when you are wiping butts and making sandwiches all day (not necessarily in that order).
After a 1 year hiatus, I decided to go back into therapy. I had abruptly ended my sessions with Dr. M due to insurance changing and not being able to afford her fee. I decided now to only go once a month, and she reduced my fee to make it more affordable. It was nice to see her again and talk about how I am feeling. I don't know why there are some people who are so skeptical about psychology/psychiatry. I love having a rational sounding board to run things by. Her insights are so poignant that I go through at least half a box of tissue a session.
I won't make any promises about coming back here for good. But, this is the first summer in two years that I am not in school and I am trying to remember what that feels like. It would be nice to blog again.
Friday, September 17, 2010
So, my battle with PPD culminated in the desire to follow a dream that I had been denying myself for years. I always wanted to be a nurse, but years of my mother whispering in my ear, "Why be a nurse when you can be a doctor instead," always made me stop in my tracks. Instead of being a doctor I joined the Navy, got my degree in Human Services, and then quit a really crappy job to stay at home. All these years my fascination with nursing was still lurking. My brush with, lets be honest, a depression so deep and horrible that I probably could've offed myself made me realize that life is way too short to be doing what my mother thinks I should do. So, as of May of '09 I went back to school to do the required prerequisites to apply to nursing school. I am in my last class now.
I was still on Zol.oft that summer I went back to school and wondered how I would ever wean myself if I got used to studying while medicated. I was told once that you should always try to recreate the environment in which you study when you are taking a test, including any chemicals (like caffeine) that may be present in your body. I didn't want to feel tied to Zol.oft for that reason alone so I quit taking Zol.oft in between classes. Cold Turkey. Man, was that a mistake. It took a month before this really strange side effect that almost felt like my brain was jiggling inside my skull to stop. The first week was filled with nausea and terrible dizziness and self-doubt. I was a total moron for quitting like that, but after a week I just felt like I should continue because it would eventually get better. It did, but stepping down the dosage would've made a lot more sense and saved me 6 weeks of feeling gross.
Going back to school was a big adjustment after 4 years of having free time dedicated to only myself. But remembering that I have something to offer this world is SO worth never doing anything but studying when school is in session. I feel like a contributing member of society again. I have something to look forward to and I love that feeling.
Even though things are going in such positive directions here I still think about my battle with PPD every day. What no one tells you is that while your depression may get better, the changes in your life that came with it never leave. I still have feelings of guilt over the first year of W's life that I barely remember because I was consumed by the devil of PPD. I still have feelings of resentment towards my husband because I don't really ever feel like he believed that anything was wrong. And still to this day he seems to write the whole ordeal off as some kind of temporary inconvenience. I feel obligated to remind him that the whole thing could've gone in a completely different direction. Two years later he still doesn't seem to get it.
Most importantly, my outlook on parenting has completely changed. I remember being pregnant with A and never considering the enormity that parenting would be. Gleefully, I picked out names and got his room ready and pictured my warm, snuggly baby sleeping peacefully in my arms. Of course, we mothers are all innocent in that respect because how could anyone describe to the uninitiated the all encompassing thing it is to be a mother?
When friends announce they are pregnant I am filled with fear for them. No one ever plans on anything going wrong. When I envisioned being a mother I never imagined that something could cause ME to be the biggest danger to my children. I feel like I did being pregnant after having a miscarriage. Like the veil of innocence was stripped from my eyes and I can imagine all that could go wrong.
Maybe these feelings are just a reflection of the fact that I have touched the void personally? I have been covered in the depths of darkness and had the most horrible thoughts about life and its meaning circling through my head. I felt the wonder of life and the fear of mortality. In a moment, life became precious and fleeting.
I heard that you never really appreciate the tallest peaks until you have seen the bottom of the valleys. I hope that is true. I am due for some magnificence after coming through the other side of PPD. All of us are.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Why do you hate Christmas so much?
Wow, good question right out of the gate. I think it all boils down to my own feelings of inadequacy in all things that I do. I never feel like what I do is good enough and spend an inordinate amount of time berating myself for not measuring up to some standard that I hold. This is especially true in being a mother. I think a lot about how my children will see me in the future and thanks to my own crappy relationship with my Mom I am terrified that they will feel about me the way I feel about her. The thought of disappointing them somehow makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry. And this is the most difficult part of parenting...you have no control about how your kids will feel about you, even if you are doing the best job you possibly can.
That being said, the build up of Christmas and the anticipation of it is just too much for me. I feel like I will never do enough to make it as magical as everyone thinks it should be for children. So I feel guilty about it.
I also don't like having obligations to do anything (like giving gifts to people that I don't really like) or feel indebted to someone and all that comes with gift giving and receiving. I like giving gifts but don't like receiving.
I am working really hard on being more positive about Christmas for my kids. I would say that they probably have no idea I hate the season. I hope it stays that way.