I Am Growing

Most of you know that my biggest struggle in life has been depression. I have fought it, conquered it, only to have it rebound with a force so strong that it knocks me off of my feet-literally. It comes out of nowhere, and I can go from happy and 'me', to kneeling on the ground sobbing.

These past few months, it has been back with a vengeance. Some of it stems from my current life stage, but a very large part of it is because I have chronic depression. There is no reason. It resides inside my soul and pounces at any chance it gets.

I can handle the chronic depression. I do not like anti-depressants, because they make me robotic. I feel nothing when I am on them. I cannot love anyone or anything, including myself. I'm not sad, but I'm also not happy. That, to me, is not living. I have tried so many different kinds, only to be met with the same ending. So, for now, I trudge along, waiting for my depression to subside just enough to let me know that I will get through this.

I have experienced so many emotions these past few months. I have been fighting for my daughter. I have been working 80 hours a week, with one day off a month (if I'm lucky). I have experienced a ridiculous amount of heartbreak. I fell in love, only to be bombarded with a heartbreak so strong that it threw me into a mental breakdown. Most of you witnessed this through a slew of pathetic Facebook posts, and calls and texts from me at strange hours wondering what the hell I'm doing.

I am finally on the recovery end of things. I am still struggling financially, but am slowly catching up. I am on the verge of getting my custody paperwork finished. I am finding myself. I am realizing that, even though I got my heart broken, it has taught me to take some time for myself. I don't want to go on dates, I don't want to be in a relationship, and I don't want someone else in my life right now. Right now, I'm just being me. I'm figuring myself out. After three years in a relationship, I got lost. It was always 'us' and 'we' and never just 'me'. So now, as I struggle and fight, I also grow.

I learn new things about myself every day. I am learning that I am stronger than my current situation, even if at times, I feel like the world is crumbling around me. I have learned that the only person I need to survive is Brinlee. I am learning that I am a messier person than I realized and you know what? That's okay. I am learning that I have a tendency towards mood swings so violent that I don't even see them coming. I'm also learning how to handle them.

So, even though I am struggling emotionally, I am still growing. I am taking this experience, and I am fighting for my life. I am overcoming every single day, and every morning I am waking up and I am going about my day. I am taking care of my daughter in the best way possible, and even if I wish I could do more for her, I know that I am keeping a roof over her head and food in her belly. I know that one day she will respect the hell I fought through to make sure she was taken care of. I will overcome this.

I am living.

The End.

This week has been a rough one. For those of you who don't know, Andrew and I broke up. After three years, I ended what I feel is an unhealthy relationship. Andrew is a wonderful person, we just aren't good together. This was the hardest decision I have ever had to make.

Since ending things, I have been called every name in the book, from bitch to cunt to bad mom. The last one hurts the most. This wasn't a split second decision that was made out of anger. It was a decision that I had thought about and considered for a few weeks, toying around with the consequences and how it would affect my daughter. I decided that I didn't want her to grow up watching an unhealthy relationship. I would rather she had two happy homes than one unhappy one. 

I knew that this would be hard, I just didn't know HOW hard. Andrew truly is an amazing person, but is it really fair to stay with someone simply because they are everyone elses version of perfection? When you aren't happy, and aren't getting the support that you need, it isn't fair to push yourself through the relationship just because everyone else thinks you should.

I know that a lot of people are shocked by what's going on. I can't tell you how many times people told me how perfect we were together, and that they wanted a relationship just like us. Just because you never saw the issues, doesn't mean they weren't there. 

I love Andrew dearly, and I always will. We are a family, and we have a child together. He is my best friend, and that won't change. Sometimes you just have to do what's best for you. 

I want to thank everyone who has been so supportive this week. I have made new connections, as well as found old ones. I never realized how many people around me really cared so much. I am so grateful so have such amazing people around me. Andrews family has reached out to let me know that I will always be a part of their family, which has been so helpful and warming over the past few days. 

I'm sure that I will be blogging much more these next few weeks as I house hunt and find my new place in life. Thank you again to everyone.

I love you and goodbye.

More Than My Baby Body

Note: I am in no way trying to body-shame ANYONE in this blog. I know that everyone looks and is shaped differently, and I am okay with that. I am simply stating my personal opinion towards MYSELF and my body. If that offends you, well, then you can just go on being offended. 

"I love my body because it made beautiful children."

I bought myself a gym membership this week. I've been complaining and bitching about my body for months now.
"I used to be so thin."
"I wish I looked like I did before I had Brinlee."
Blah, blah, blah. So finally, Friday night rolls around and I'm fucking exhausted. I'd been up since four in the morning and I just want to take a nap. I get home, plop down on my bed, and that's when it started. My baby belly rolls over the edge of my pants, taunting me. "I'M NEVER GOING AWAY!"

I laid on my bed, and I couldn't even focus on taking a nap. All I could think about was what I used to be. I thought about short shorts and bikinis, and how I can't wear those things anymore. I laid there and thought and thought and thought, and then I did. I pushed myself up from the bed.

"Fuck it. I'm going to the gym."

So I packed Brinlee up, and went and bought my membership. I didn't actually go on Friday because I had no exercise clothes, but it was enough to get me started. (I'm not going to spend $30/month and not use it). When I left, I went and got my clothes and my shoes, and I called my friend and we scheduled gym time for the next morning. (My gym has childcare, which is awesome because I can go whenever I want and not have to worry about Brinlee.)

Fast forward to the next morning. I'm walking into the gym with Rachel and I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. I'm just following her around like a puppy, playing around on these damn machines trying to figure out how the hell they work. Of course, Rachel isn't new to this, so she's running circles around me as I'm dying and my muscles are crawling out of my skin. I can't breathe, I can't think, I can't stop sweating, but I swear that I will be more than my baby body.

And that's just it. I will be more than my baby body.

Ever since I had Brinlee, people tell me how great I look. Yeah, I've lost the baby weight. Yeah, I'm back down to my pre-baby weight. My shape has completely shifted though. Instead of being pretty evenly covered in fat, it now sits on my stomach. Instead of having a flat stomach and bigger boobs, I have small boobs and a muffin-top from hell. Yeah, I'm beautiful. Yeah, I look okay for having had a baby six months ago. But just because I had a baby, doesn't mean I have to be accepting of these changes. And was I really that happy with my body before I had Brinlee?

So many times, I hear people talking about body acceptance, and just knowing that you're beautiful no matter what. You read articles that tell you that you need to love your body, because it brought a beautiful baby into the world. To a point, I think these articles are correct. There are things that will remain after having a baby (I'm talking to you, stretch marks) and you can't change that. So yes, you should accept those things. I'm not saying you have to like them, just accept that those are part of your body, no matter what. But being fat, or overweight, or weirdly shaped, those are things that you can change. Those are the things that are not, in my opinion, 'acceptable' changes. Those are the things that I will change.

I look in the mirror everyday after I get dressed and rearrange my clothes to hide my least favorite things. My pants are pulled high to cover my love handles. My shirts are loose-fitting and flowing, to mask the bubble of a belly that still remains. I stand up straight and suck it in, and if I'm wearing a dress, I put on spandex to hide my shape. Why am I doing this? Why am I spending so much time hiding these things instead of actually getting off my ass and changing them?

I'm not going to accept something that I can change, simply because I had a baby. I don't want to look good for having had a baby- I want to look like I didn't have a baby. I want to be happier with myself than I've ever been. If that means going to the gym, and working out so hard that my legs are giving out and I can barely breathe, then fine. If it means skipping my nap and turning away from the three boxes of girl scout cookies sitting on my night stand (true story), then fine. I will work my ass off (literally) to change the things that can be changed. I will not accept that I am bigger than I once was simply because an article on Facebook told me that I need to. I will not make excuses for my laziness because I had a child.

I will be more than my baby body.

Where Did My Baby Go?

My baby is six months old this weekend. In three days, I will be the mother of a SIX MONTH OLD! Where has time gone??

When I was pregnant, I swear it lasted for approximately 10 years. Yes, I was excited to be pregnant, and so excited to have a baby after being told I never would. But oh, my god. I thought it was never going to end. Pregnancy was miserable. Between throwing up so much I lost 25 pounds, to the never-ending gas and adult acne, I thought I was going to die before that baby popped out of me. And then there she was.

I will never forget the moment Brinlee was born. After 26 hours of labor, I opened my eyes after pushing, took a deep breath for the first time in months, and realized that my baby was here. I couldn't see her yet. She was being held at a low enough level that the table was blocking me from seeing her. But I could see it in Andrew's eyes. I could feel it in my body.. I WASN'T PREGNANT ANYMORE! I wasn't nauseous, and I didn't hurt. Everything was good. And then I saw her..

Seeing Brinlee for the first time was the most amazingly overwhelming thing I could have ever imagined. I thought I knew the love I had for her when I was pregnant. I never imagined that I could love her even more. Then I did.

She was two and a half months old when I came back to work. She was still so tiny. She has just started smiling so big. She was still so snugly when I held her, no matter what time of day it was. She still sucked on her binky like it would disappear at any second. She was teething like a motherfucker. She was so small.

Coming back to work was the hardest thing I've ever done. I came back to work and stopped breastfeeding the same week. The guild that racked me was so overwhelming. I felt like the worst mother. I was leaving my child. I was going back to work, and letting someone else raise my baby. What am I doing? These thought still cross my mind on a daily basis, although their presence has become less overwhelming. Everyday, I come home to a baby that's bigger than she was when I left that morning. She's making new sounds and faces. She's growing, and I'm missing it. What am I doing?

I got home from work yesterday, and she sat up, grabbed a book, and propped it in front of herself to make it look like she was reading it. All of a sudden, it hit me how big she had become while I was at work all these months. She went from being at tiny little snugly baby, so a giant, independent, sassy giant baby. She went from 60th percentile to 80th. She went from still fitting in newborn clothes, to outgrowing even some of her 6-9 month clothes. Where did my baby go?

Andrew and I had a long discussion before I came back to work on what was best for our family. We decided that, in the end, we would rather be financially stable, and able to provide for her, than be struggling, paycheck to paycheck, barely able to make ends meet. It has been a blessing on quite a few occasions to have two incomes. During the month of December, there was a point where we had $20 to our name, which immediately went to formula. We've had our share of unexpected expenses, from ER trips, to flat tires, to a flooded kitchen. When those things happen, I know that I did the right thing by coming back to work. How would we have been able to afford those things if I hadn't? How would we have made it by?

Then I see my baby. My six month old. She has gotten so big. There is someone else with her all day, teaching her to sit up and reading to her and feeding her. Someone else is there when she wakes up from her nap. Someone else is watching her grow. Does she miss me? I feel like there are so many vital milestones that I am missing by being away at work for 10-11 hours every day. Am I doing what's best for her by not being there?

There is a large part of me that knows that what I'm doing is best. It would be so much easier if she would stop getting so big! Where is my baby?

Depression Part II

It's been a while since I originally posted my blog about depression. It has been almost five months since I had Brinlee. On Friday, I finally gave in and got on anti-depressants.

The last few months have been very hard for me, and very taxing in regards to my home and work life. I have been extremely distant, emotionally unstable, and bitchy to everyone around me. I have tried hard to battle through this depression on my own, and am finally realizing that this is a losing battle. Not only has my boss asked if I am doing okay emotionally, but the people around me have noticed and made comments. I tried hard to get through this without the assistance of others or any medication, but I just couldn't do it.

I am on day 4 of being on anti depressants. I feel extremely foggy all the time, my appetite has decreased, and I am hitting the emotional low that comes at the beginning of taking them. Today has been extremely hard, as I came back to work from vacation. I am exhausted.

It has been a long time since I have felt like this, and I am not exactly sure how to handle myself. It is past the point of being able to portray myself as doing okay to others, and I feel extremely vulnerable knowing that others can see that I am not doing okay.

I want to go home.