When it gets bad

Let me preface this post by assuring you that what i mean is, 'when it gets bad FOR ME'. My depression is moderate, so 'when it gets bad' does not involve me learning how to tie a noose, experimenting with too many pills, or googling "leave car running in garage" (which, funnily enough, yields a "yahoo answers" video clip?!). No, i am of the mind that that sort of thing is just too selfish, even for one so selfish as me.



But bad for me can still be...difficult to face. And uncomfortable to disect, and tortorously embarassing to share. So let's do that, shall we?




When it gets bad, my kids still get fed. And, more often than not, dressed. My 5-yr-old makes it to preschool; my 1-yr-old's diaper gets changed. They are safe. BUT - that's about it. For example, it's gotten bad this week. We skipped all the non-mandatory stuff: no preschool story-time at the library, no mommy-and-me. Didn't make it to the Y, despite being uber-aware of the fact that we are taking a vacation which requires me to don a swimsuit in less than 3 weeks. (Update - returned from vacation - more on that later. trying on swimsuits not recommended for women suffering from moderate depression) No grocery store - we actually broke out powdered creamer at one point, previously relegated to camping supplies. And WAY too much television. Despite what the ads say, its not REALLY "preschool on TV".



Most of that is related to ambivalence: zombie mommy going through the motions, trying to make it through till after dinner when I can safely start counting the minutes until sleep. (although once the opportunity to sleep is upon me it will no longer appeal to me).



The irritability part is more disturbing. That's the part that's got me saving money for my son's eventual therapy bills. The screaming - literally mad-woman screaming - at my five year old to PLEASE JUST CALM DOWN DAMNIT! All while clearly hearing a very calm, rational voice in my mind saying "why are you screaming at this child?" Or yelling at an 18-month old baby to stop crying. That's a classic. And super effective!



And the cycle continues and feeds itself and grows, as anyone who has been dealt this depression bullshit knows firsthand. The ambivalence & irritability lead inevitably to guilt, feelings of inferiority, those "oh my god i am the worst mother on the planet" moments that seem to apply equally to loosing your temper or serving peanut butter with trans fats. And here's where you need to break the cycle because while i have somehow maintained enough Reason to back off of that edge, that guilt leads to very dangerous questions: am i doing more harm than good? would they be better off without me?



Happily for me, my answer to that question is always a resounding 'no'. But I get it. And just getting it, really, is scary enough.



When it gets bad I literally want to sleep 20 hours a day. BUT - I always want to wake up again.