Baby check-in
I'm nearing the end of my 10th week, and my depression has been worse than ever.
In between brief moments of "We're having a baby" happiness, I seem to fall thousands of feet into a dark abyss of sad, and shame for feeling that way. I feel as though I am two people - one tsking and shaking her head at the other who is drowning in despair. One feeling ashamed and fearful for the other who is headed straight for the looney bin.
I've even begun to hate our apartment, probably b/c I associate it with the place where I crash in between going to work - another place I hate, or at least is the source of most of my anxiety and stress. I never look forward to going into our apartment anymore. No longer can I view it was our accomplishment - getting out and living on our own - but now it is some sort of prison where I'm stuck and suffocate while preparing to go to work. DH parks the truck in the parking lot and I break down in tears sometimes because I just can't go in.
I see myself going through this and wonder what happened. Why am I feeling like this and going through this? Isn't there a sane person underneath it all? Or perhaps there never was, and my brain is finally taking over. I feel so desperate and hopeless, and nothing I do helps.
I can list more positives in my life right now than anyone looking at this. I know how blessed I am more than you could guess. I remind myself of this everyday, several times a day, yet it doesn't help. It is really the pregnancy hormones, or am I just this crazy? How can I raise a child while I am this crazy? I belong in an institution. If it weren't for my husband's love and care, I probably would be in a padded cell right now, or somewhere worse.
Tomorrow I meet with the psychiatrist, and I hope she gives me something. Even my OB (well, the third one I saw since my HMO won't allow me to see the same one over again) thought it was crazy that when the psychiatrist took me off of my antidepressants, that she didn't put me on a different one that has been found safe with pregnancy. There are at least two kinds out there, and one of them has worked well for me in the past. If my psych doesn't put me on it, I hope that I can keep my temper.
I'm wearing down my husband as well. He feels underappreciated, even though I've tried my best to appreciate what he does. I think this is an example of the language barrier between us, however. I tell him nonstop just how much what he does for me means to me, so it hurt my feelings to hear he felt underappreciated - yet our argument revealed that to him, underappreciated means overworked. He does everything and has nobody to complain to (he won't complain to me). To me, it means that I'm not letting him know how much I appreciate what he does. So we had a very silly argument arguing over two very opposite things. It didn't last long, probably a stoplight on the way home.
I go to Baton Rouge in a little over a week for a short visit. I hope it will relieve my stress and anxiety and help me feel less hopeless. Work has become more difficult to put up with (long story about a boss who doesn't understand our jobs), and the sooner I get out of here, the better.
Don't get me wrong, I am extremely excited about this baby. It's just that all the exercise, fresh air, and thinking positive in the world can't change the way I feel - and that makes me feel more hopeless than ever. I just hope my baby doesn't inherit my crazy chemical imbalance. Things will be perfect if it inherits everything from DH.
In between brief moments of "We're having a baby" happiness, I seem to fall thousands of feet into a dark abyss of sad, and shame for feeling that way. I feel as though I am two people - one tsking and shaking her head at the other who is drowning in despair. One feeling ashamed and fearful for the other who is headed straight for the looney bin.
I've even begun to hate our apartment, probably b/c I associate it with the place where I crash in between going to work - another place I hate, or at least is the source of most of my anxiety and stress. I never look forward to going into our apartment anymore. No longer can I view it was our accomplishment - getting out and living on our own - but now it is some sort of prison where I'm stuck and suffocate while preparing to go to work. DH parks the truck in the parking lot and I break down in tears sometimes because I just can't go in.
I see myself going through this and wonder what happened. Why am I feeling like this and going through this? Isn't there a sane person underneath it all? Or perhaps there never was, and my brain is finally taking over. I feel so desperate and hopeless, and nothing I do helps.
I can list more positives in my life right now than anyone looking at this. I know how blessed I am more than you could guess. I remind myself of this everyday, several times a day, yet it doesn't help. It is really the pregnancy hormones, or am I just this crazy? How can I raise a child while I am this crazy? I belong in an institution. If it weren't for my husband's love and care, I probably would be in a padded cell right now, or somewhere worse.
Tomorrow I meet with the psychiatrist, and I hope she gives me something. Even my OB (well, the third one I saw since my HMO won't allow me to see the same one over again) thought it was crazy that when the psychiatrist took me off of my antidepressants, that she didn't put me on a different one that has been found safe with pregnancy. There are at least two kinds out there, and one of them has worked well for me in the past. If my psych doesn't put me on it, I hope that I can keep my temper.
I'm wearing down my husband as well. He feels underappreciated, even though I've tried my best to appreciate what he does. I think this is an example of the language barrier between us, however. I tell him nonstop just how much what he does for me means to me, so it hurt my feelings to hear he felt underappreciated - yet our argument revealed that to him, underappreciated means overworked. He does everything and has nobody to complain to (he won't complain to me). To me, it means that I'm not letting him know how much I appreciate what he does. So we had a very silly argument arguing over two very opposite things. It didn't last long, probably a stoplight on the way home.
I go to Baton Rouge in a little over a week for a short visit. I hope it will relieve my stress and anxiety and help me feel less hopeless. Work has become more difficult to put up with (long story about a boss who doesn't understand our jobs), and the sooner I get out of here, the better.
Don't get me wrong, I am extremely excited about this baby. It's just that all the exercise, fresh air, and thinking positive in the world can't change the way I feel - and that makes me feel more hopeless than ever. I just hope my baby doesn't inherit my crazy chemical imbalance. Things will be perfect if it inherits everything from DH.
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