I’m not sure if it’s been obvious or not, but lately…I’ve been in a dark place. I don’t want to be in a dark place, I’m not trying to search out the negativity or anything, but the fact of the matter is that I have been in a dark place. And I really, truly hate that I’m admitting this.
I should be over the moon happy about everything in my life right now, and I am. I love my boys more than anything. I am thankful for them, I feel blessed. I’m not saying I’m constantly in a dark place, that I wake up miserable and go to bed miserable…but the dark place is like a boomerang. I throw it as hard as I can, away from me, away from my body, away from my family and my hopes and dreams…but then it comes back to me and hits me straight in the face, demanding to be acknowledged. It screams “I am here! You can’t ignore me!”. I’ll toss it away, again, only to have it come back to me. Several times each day.
I used to be able to handle tough situations easily. I used to have patience. Now I can’t, and I don’t. I’m yelling more than I should, more than anyone should. I get frustrated over the tiniest things. Nolan not cooperating is a big trigger. He’s 3, and I get that they don’t often cooperate, but it’s frustrating because I need him to cooperate, ever so slightly. Archer is such a high needs baby, and he takes almost all of my energy.
I can’t remember things. I can’t remember if feeling things that I’m feeling is normal. I can’t remember if what I’m feeling is what I felt when Nolan was this age. I’m still trying to function on mom zombie brain. It’s almost like a mindset you get into when you have a newborn, to survive. Archer isn’t a newborn anymore though, but he’s still pretty high needs. He demands so much of my time, and he usually isn’t content in waiting or playing by himself while I pee or brush my hair or teeth or try to clean my house.
I think I’m having a hard time with everything because I want to be amazing at it all. I want to have a spotless house, home made meals, and still have time to play with both my kids. I want to do fun activities and make amazing memories but still have time for me, and for Matt. I feel like I’m failing all of the above though. My house is messier than I want it to be, I make grilled cheese sandwiches and mac & cheese more than I’d like to, and I somewhat succeed in playing with them…at least inside. But the fun activities rarely happen, mostly because fun activities require a tiny bit of money. Money for gas to get places, a little bit of money to spend on fun things.
Time for me is stolen, stolen from time that I could be using to clean or play with them, but I need to steal a little time every once in a while. As for time for Matt…I’m trying. It’s hard to carve out time for each other when we both constantly focus on the kids. Focusing on the kids isn’t a bad thing, but we’ve been doing it for so long now that we’ve forgotten how to truly focus on each other.
We’re going on a date tonight, and aside from simply having our phones with us for emergencies, I’m hoping to make it 100% about us. There are so many things that I’d like to do. I’d like to just sit at the water front, on top of the car and hold hands. Talk. Get lost in each other like we used to. I also want to see The Avengers, because we’ve both been dying to see that movie and date nights are so far and few in between. I’m so exited for this date…we really need it. I really need it.
Matt gets to go out more than I do, mainly because he has more friends in this town but also because his friends are content with just chilling and playing some video games on xBox while drinking beers. My friends are more likely to want to do something that requires money…like the movies, or shopping. Things that I can’t exactly do as often as I’d like to because we’re broke. Date night is something we’ve forced ourselves to afford because we need it, bad.
Today I am going to drive to my doctor’s office and demand an appointment. I need to figure out if all the things I’m battling internally are normal, or situational, or if there’s something else going on. I hate admitting something might be wrong with me, but I’ve come to the conclusion that by not admitting something is wrong…I’m being just like her. To this day, she still denies that she has any kind of mental illness. She’s so far gone, she doesn’t even know she’s gone. I don’t want to end up like that, I don’t want it to get to a point where I can’t come back from it. Maybe nothing is the matter, maybe it’s all just in my head…but maybe it isn’t.
I just don’t feel…right. I don’t feel happy and carefree, like I used to be. I have incredibly happy moments in each of my days, and that’s what keeps me going, keeps me striving to keep the boomerang away, but the sad and frustrating parts feel overwhelmingly difficult. Like incredible, impossible weights on my shoulders. And the guilt…the guilt that I can’t escape. I feel guilty for being mad, or sad. I feel crazy for my emotions, my insecurities, all of those feelings. Matt and I have been fighting a lot lately, and I feel like that’s all my fault. I should be more supportive and understanding, and not resentful about the whole job thing. I shouldn’t let my insecurities darken any part of our life together, and they do. I don’t know how to not be resentful about the job thing, save for him getting a job, and I don’t know how to stop my insecurities because I know that they are actually unwarranted.
So, I don’t really know what the point of this post is. To admit that there is a dark place? To admit that I’m not all sunshine and rainbows and happiness? That I’ve been lying to myself about it? To admit that maybe I really do need to make changes, and get help?