Inner turmoil

I need to get this out… and this is for me, but I don’t want to just put it on private, because I have things to share too.  I put that title there (*edit* I’m changing the title, deciding after having written this that there’s just too much "other" stuff to keep my original title), intending to speak about the things that happened today… but my inner turmoil needs a voice, and my diary is my place for that.  I’ve never minded if people share my ups and downs, but of course, I do try to write mostly about the ups, and leave the downs unsaid, hopefully forgotten… it isn’t wise to focus on the negative, and little good comes from it anyway.  Still… my heart is aching.

I adore my husband.  I do.  Once in awhile he just really… gets to me.  Hurts me in a big way, and it usually involves the kids somehow.  What he says… it FEELS like blame.  It feels like he’s saying to me "Sarah, you are to blame for how they are… you are to blame for why they struggle in school.  You are to blame for why Becca is so disrespectful.  You are to blame for her attitude."  What he says is… well, Becca has been telling him she doesn’t CARE about school.  She hates it, she shouldn’t have to do the work, and she shouldn’t have to care.  He said he thinks she needs counseling.  We were talking about Apple, and Steve Jobs not doing the keynote speech this year at MacWorld, and Apple’s plan to no longer attend.  Well, at first, he couldn’t find the info, excpet that Steve Jobs wasn’t the keynote speaker, and I said, Oh, I’ll have to go look up why.  Then, I went into the pantry, and realized… I don’t really care.  So I came out and I said that.  And Jerry said to me that my attitude is remarkably similar to Becca’s, and I should watch that.  Is that blaming?  Honestly… I could not see HOW it paralleled, except that the words were the same.  I’ve come to realize that I simply burned out long ago, and I did not get that job because I did not WANT that job. 

Is it all that similar to not wanting to go to school?  Thus… my turmoil.  I think perhaps it is.  But then… I passed high school.  Oh… I did it by the skin of my freaking teeth… with extra credit work in the social studies class I was flunking my senior year… the ONLY required class I had in the last semester, because I knew enough to get the bulk of the required stuff out of the way asap…

God… I didn’t ALWAYS take the easiest way out.  I didn’t.  And I have struggled with the monster that is depression since I was 10.  It’s only been in the last, oh 6 or 7 years that I stopped having sucidal thoughts, even if they were obviously linked to my period for the previous 5 or so years… meaning once a month like clockwork, I would have a major depression that included a huge wish to die.  So, that greatly colored my life in high school.  Did I care enough?  Well… I did and I didn’t.  And I had the fear of my parents to contend with… the thought that there would be hell to pay if I didn’t graduate… plus, well, my own sense of my future, I guess.  I mean, I did make a FEW smart decisions, and I DID graduate when I was supposed to.  I stayed away from drugs, and even alcohol, knowing I had family on BOTH sides who were alcoholics, I thought the chances were pretty good I could inheirit that, so I stayed far, far away from that.  Those were conscious decisions on my part because I wanted to leave my future options open.

God, I’m so off track.  Here I am, analyzing if I am why Becca’s so messed up… like she has NO part in her life whatsoever.  Yes… let’s just blame the parents, because that IS the cool thing to do these days, isn’t it?  Take absolutely NO responsiibility for our actions?  We are the way we are because our parents were or were not good enough?  Christ almighty… my mother belittled me to death, and was probably the main reason I suffered from depression… but in the end, MY choices were my choices, not hers.

But Jerry would have me believe "we" are a big part of the reason the kids… all of them, are not doing well in school.  That "our" not cleaning up is why they are so disorganized…

I am depressed.  I am.

I talked to Linda, and she said maybe I have the "baby blues" and you know… I hate that.  Excuse me for this next part, but FUCK THAT.  I’ve been on a mostly even keel since she was born.  I’ve had my issues with the breastfeeding, because I had my heart and my head wrapped around my failure as a mother if I couldn’t feed my child the way God intended, but I do NOT have "baby blues" or postpartum depression or anything of the sort.  Goddamn labels anyway.

I’m more moody than depressed.  I am only "down" when I think about it.  If I distract myself, with the children, with a book, with the interent… I’m all right, I’m in the moment, and I’m good.  It’s all good.  But the moment I allow myself to start wondering if I am somehow the "reason" my children are seeming so damned messed up, especially in school… I start to go pretty damn wonky.  And I’m ANGRY.  As if you couldn’t tell.

Oh… and the baby.  The baby is, to put it mildly, driving me out of my skull, crazy.

I can’t put her down.  If I put her down, and start to walk away, she starts crying.  Her needs are being met.  She’s warm, she’s fed on a regular basis, I’m going on her cues of hunger, and when she starts to play with my nipples instead of eating, and is seeming unhappy, I give her formula, lately with cereal… in a bottle (which I am fully aware I’m not supposed to do… but if you’re perfect, feel free to toss them stones!)  But I put her down, and say, walk to the kitchen, and she can SEE me, she cries, and cries and cries.  She doesn’t stop.

And my freaking nerves are worn thin by this.  I truly… well, I entertain thoughts of throwing her across the room.  I do.  Then, I gather myself up, and I gently put her on my breast, because it’s the ONLY thing that will get her to calm down once she starts.  She doesn’t sleep unless I am there.  Once she’s alseep, I MIGHT be able to sneak away without waking her… MIGHT. 

Last night, I put her on her tummy on the floor… and I watched her cry for a good half an hour while I did the dishes.  This at two a.m.  I’d tried to go to bed.  I’d given her a bottle, laid down with her, and put her on my breast so she wouldn’t cry.  Within mintues, she yanked off that breast and cried.  And I just told her, if you’re going to cry in my arms, I might as well put you on your tummy and let you cry there.  She NEEDS the tummy time, and I rarely give it to her, because once she’s down there, she just cries and cries and I can’t stand it.  I WANT to do what’s right for her… by her, and I’m so freaking torn in a million different directions.  I SHOULD put her on her tummy.  And I was angry enough with her to just let her cry last night.  And that… well, it scares me, but then… I wasn’t REALLY hurting her.  I’m so afraid she

‘s going to grow up screwed up because I don’t hold her 18 hours a day.  But I just watched her cry.  What does that make me?  If it was someone else, I wouldn’t blame them.  I don’t know.  Like I said, I’m torn in a million different directions.

Sleep deprivation REALLY makes me wonky.  And by wonky, I mean I have crazy thoughts, that I have to work hard to control.  That’s when I have the worst of my death wishes, and my thoughts that no one loves me, and worse yet, no one NEEDS me.  That’s when I think I ought to pack up the van and just drive to my mother’s house.  Without the kids, because in reality, I’m a lousy mother.  I’m a lousy housekeeper.  I’m a lousy cook.  I’m not patient enough (this, however, IS true.)  Oh, and finally… I have thoughts that I just hate myself, and I hate my life.  And that I ought to get a job.  And sometimes, this is thought resentfully, because I shouldn’t have to get a job, and sometimes I just think that HE does it all so much better than I… hate him for that… that I ought to get a job because I suck at everything revolving around keeping a house running.  And as I have mentioned before, sometimes I spin tales in my head that are so tragic, that I make myself cry from them.

Sigh.

The crying spells.  Yea… wonky.  This is NOT ME.  Well, it is.  But it’s the me I’ve always wanted to shed.  And it only comes around once in awhile… I mean, I do what I can to be patient, positive, and uplifting.  I control the thoughts of causing harm to anyone. 

I just…  hell, I don’t even know.  I mean, I feel like I freaking need FIXING.  Like I am broken.  It’s hard to like the person who sits at the computer downloading things she may never use.  It’s hard to like the person who can’t clean a room and keep it neat looking.  It’s hard to like the person who hates to listen to her daughter read (like a robot… sigh.)  It’s hard to like the person who lets her husband cook almost every night, and when it’s her turn, will likely put a lasanga in the microwave…

I just fear the man has a point, and what does it mean?  I feel powerless, because I look at this room, and I see an almost insurmountable problem of organzing it.  I feel useless because I don’t have the degree to get a decent job, and truthfully… I lack ambition, and I feel absolutely stuck.  I hardly ever leave the house.  I only leave when I have to.  There are days I don’t even know what the weather is outside. 

I just see all these signs of depression.  But usually, I don’t feel depressed.  Well, I don’t feel sad.  I don’t feel like I’m in the abyss and unable to do anything but ride it out… I KNOW when I’m depressed.  Now, the anger… that makes me wonder.  I never really had "anger" when I was a kid, but somewhere along the line, I read that depression is anger turned inwards, so maybe I’m just feeling my real feelings, I don’t know.  However… I’m not doing myself any favors with the anger either.  Or the kids.  I feel frustrated.  I know somewhere inside me "this too shall pass."  But damn, it’s hard when you’re in the midst of it.  Couldn’t it pass a bit faster?  (Okay… dark humor, good sign.  Yes, that was humor.)

Stagnant.

I did the dishes last night to prove I’m not completely useless.  It’s just frustrating, and sort of sad really, that I had to let Alex suffer while I did it.  On the other hand… that baby NEEDS to be on her stomach more! 

That’s a classic no-win, isn’t it?

Anyway, back to the stagnant comment.  For one… I get hardly any time to myself.  And I accept that as part and parcel of the job.  I steal every moment I can, and I do spend way too much time at the computer… though at least when I’m here, I can breastfeed, and hold, Alex.  She likes it. 

She’s currently miserable, but Sydni and Kristin have her.  Probably won’t be long before they bring her to me though.

I don’t have any real resolutions.  I have no college degree.  I guess I can just get a job to have a job.  I don’t know if that’ll fix anything. 

Well, I was right, they brought her to me… I’ll upload a picture from today.  I went to Sydn’s class, they were building "gingerbread" houses with their buddies class (a 2nd grade class they spend an hour with once a week.) which consisted of putting frosting on a milk carton, putting graham crackers on that, and then decorating the houses.  Good messy fun.  I took Sammi, at Sydni’s request, and she had a blast decorating her house which I helped her build.  I was one of two parent helpers who showed up, so I did a great deal of the prep work, and helped clean up too… it WAS fun however, and I was very glad I went.  Jerry and I also had another trip to Hometown Buffet for soup and salad and dessert, which was very yummy as well.  Almost feels like our "normal" life.  I like being the supportive wife… I’m all right with it, but I am anxious for this situation to resolve to where we have money again.  The guy did NOT call Jerry about the oil deal… and he won’t say anything about it, but I don’t think it bodes well at all, and it’s just so frustrating to wonder if it’s a scam or what… and to wonder if this is EVER going to end, and if not, can we get decent paying jobs in this economy?  Of course, our happiness at having to take jobs is another matter entirely… one I don’t really care to contemplate, truthfully.

Gotta go.  Actually, Jerry has Alex, but I’m leaking, so I should really feed her.  The girls put together a bottle that was cereal, peas and formula.  That’ll fill her up… but then, she was crying so much, they put her in her bouncer and left her there.  Sigh… there are times when I am truly the only one who can calm her down, and I don’t know if I like that or not.  It’s a double edged sword, that is for certain.

Anyway, here is a picture from today… Syd helping Sammi.

And with that… well, I am exhausted.  I’m going to TRY going to bed.  We shall see if Alex allows this.  I may have to put her in her cradle and go with the "cry it out" method, which I SO DO NOT subscribe to… but when one is at one’s wit’s end… yea.  My sanity is at stake here.