Up until the past week or so, I felt great. No tears since goodness knows when.
But now I'm crying as I type this post.
Here are the few contributing factors:
- Rory. This past week he's been constantly screaming and Duncan and I are struggling to work out whether it's teething-related, it's a new sound he likes and is practising, or if he's just frustrated. He used to be so good in the car. He'd go to sleep or stare happily out of the window. Now he's a little terror who rarely sleeps and just screams. I literally got a headache from the screaming on our trip to Perth last weekend. Since he's been crawling, he seems to hate anything that keeps him restrained such as getting dried after his bath, having his nappy changed, or sitting in the car seat or pram. He's turning one in two days and he still feeds at night! Usually just once, but shouldn't he have stopped by now? We've tried everything to get him to give up breastfeeding at night. We wait to see if the cry is urgent and if it is, Duncan goes in with a sippy cup of water and tries to calm him down. But sometimes Duncan has been up for an hour with him and he still hasn't settled. The only thing that will settle him is a feed from me and then he'll happily go back into his cot and settle himself. Argh! I just want a full night's sleep again. He does sleep through the night sometimes, but they are often too few and far between. This past week he's been protesting every sleep time even though he's tired (but not overtired).
- Summer. It's draining. Part of our house has no insulation because when the roof blew off in the infamous storm of June 2012, the insulation blew out too. The roof was whacked back on in haste, but no new insulation was put in. Poor Rory's room is like a furnace sometimes. Summer also means fires! They're always a threat out here. Last summer there was one not far from our house. When I watch the news, I feel uneasy knowing that could very well happen here.
- I stepped on the scales the other day. Depressing! But I've got no-one to blame but myself.
- Blogging. It's depressing me. I've lost my love for it. Well, I still love writing, but I'm wondering what the point is when the blogosphere seems so quiet. I'm 30 years old, yet I feel like a child with nothing interesting to say (well, it's interesting to me, but probably no-one else). I realise so many of my posts are about postnatal depression and while it's where I'm at at the moment, I get the feeling others are tired of it.
I always get scared when I feel like I'm on the slide again. People talk about heavy hearts as a metaphor, but mine feels literally heavy, like an anchor in my chest. I just want to keep crying and I don't know whether to fight it or just surrender to the sadness.
I can pray but I don't know what else I can do. Surely they can't keep just bumping up my meds?
I've decided next week will be my last week before I bid you all adieu for a while.