Why is it when my mood is most sour, my kids do everything in their power to irritate the crap out of me?

If I am in a decent, or even a good mood, my kids are angels. They mind their manners, clean up their messes, and rarely fight. On the other hand, when I am feeling ill-minded, they seem like four little terrorists making every effort to sabotage my own efforts to find peace. What is up with that?

I think it comes down to the negative air around here. Content breeds content, and hostility breeds hostility. There is my aha moment for today.

The past month or so has been terrible for me. I battle daily with thoughts of running away, ending my marriage, leaving my home and my kids, and sometimes ending my life. It has been a struggle for me to just get through the day. Throw a little stress in there and I’m done. You can find me on the couch with my pillow and blanket curled up into a ball. Yep, that’s my day.

Pole dance much? Why yes, yes I do.

I am 5 days post-op. This has been a very rough surgery and recovery for me, harder than any other procedure. Now the depression has settled and I seem to burst into tears at any given moment – completely unprovoked.

I had a full tummy tuck with extensive muscle repair on December 28th. I have had severe problems with pain due to some muscle tears, looseness, and severe abdominal weakness. It contributed to my depression worsening over the past couple of years, so I took a leap of faith (and trusted 6 different doctors who put their recommendation in) and went ahead and had it done.

Yesterday I called my mom to give her an update and began crying as I remembered I did not take one single picture at Christmas and those were memories I could not get back. (I am still emotional over that too) My mother thought I was being so sensitive, mainly because I did not stop crying.

When I was nine I experienced my first major loss.  My cousin, 23 and 2 days away from marrying his high school sweetheart, was shot and killed.  He was a bank manager, and startled a man robbing the bank while he was working.  I was devastated, he was a very big part of my life.  To this day, I have never gotten over the moment my father told me there would be no wedding, that he had gone to heaven.

My life, and my relationships, would never be the same.

By the age of 17, I buried 5 loved ones I was close to.  First my cousin, and then at 15 lost 3 friends in a car accident.  At 16 my cousin, life long best friend, and sister in heart was diagnosed with a very rare cancer.  She didn’t even make it a year before the cancer took her from us.

I am very careful to make sure my husband and children always have everything they need, and most of what they want.  If the kids need clothes or shoes, they get it.  If my husband loses weight and needs new jeans, I take him for new jeans, and if he needs shoes he gets shoes.  When it comes to dentist and doctors appointments I am very diligent in making sure I stay on top of it.  If they are sick I take care of them and nurse them, if they are upset I comfort them, if they are anxious I calm them down.

What about me??

I am last to get clothes and shoes, underwear and socks.  I’m last to the dentist and last to the doctors, last to get medicines and last to get better.  I’m last to be heard and last to be held, I’m always, always last.

I feel battered, beaten, and broken.  I feel defeated.  I feel overwhelmed with self hate and despair.  I feel crippled emotionally, and numb mentally.  I feel lost somewhere between reality and a dream.  I feel like crawling into a hole and staying there for the next few months.  I want to pack my bags and run as far away as possible.  I wish I could escape all of this but there is no escape, I cannot run and hide, I cannot cry enough.  All I can do is sit here, and try to accept defeat.  I have been defeated.

Life isn’t easy for anyone.  Well, I can’t say that.  I’m sure for some, life is a breeze, but I will convince myself that is not normal.  Everyone finds themselves running through a range of emotions from time to time, and certain circumstances make us all feel like we are going crazy from time time.  My problem is, my emotional range is all over the charts, every day.

For 2 solid weeks I have been struggling to fight a crippling depressive episode.  I still am not quite back from it but I am attempting to believe that if I put my mind to it maybe I can actually overcome it.  Well sadly I have determined forcing myself back to reality isn’t exactly the easiest thing to do.  I have taken the past three days and I have slowly been working on the chores that have been sorely neglected due to the lack of energy and overwhelming sadness that creeps in and slaps me in the face.

It’s a real shame honestly that I feel proud of myself for giving the kids a bath.   Unfortunately, these days that seems to be my biggest accomplishment.  I haven’t been cooking yummy homemade dinners very much and I haven’t exactly been on top of things as I usually am.  Even with depression I can still usually do the basics.  This episode can be ranked up there as one of my worst.