mercoledì, luglio 25, 2012

Oh, fuck.

It could be jet lag; it could be my body adjusting to a baby growth spurt/hormones; it could be that I'm monumentally pissed off to be back in Australia, it could be any number of things. My pet theory is that it's going from the middle of the summer, light-wise, to the middle of winter. Whatever the case is, I'm fucking down. Right down. Crashed.

It's freaking me out a little, because of course, while it's here, you don't know when it's going to end. Though for many years now this has just been a passing thing that's cleared up in days or weeks at most, you just don't know when it will lift. It freaks me out more than usual at the moment, when I think of the F-word, so kind and loving, and then think of my grandmother and my grandfather - another kind, loving man, who really sacrificed a lot of his happiness on the altar of Her. On one side I'm petrified of similarly dragging him down with my depression. On the other I'm petrified of him leaving me, as I expect I would have done to my grandmother if I was my grandfather. I don't know which prospect is more utterly petrifying. They're both bloody awful.

Freaking me out even more because now I've got a kicky little baby inside me and I've had enough friends who've had post-partum depression to be petrified of that prospect, too. They all got through; they all bonded with their kids, and love them, and are happy now. They all did a good job. Could I, in that situation? It's hard to imagine not bonding with Ren; the little thing is already filling me with a new kind of love and every little kick and punch is an intense pleasure. When I was in Europe I had all these visions of how I'm going to be, if not a great mum, a mum who tries to be great, and since getting back here I've got so full of inertia and sadness that I just can't kick things into gear.

I'm gonna calm down, eat some SAD appropriate food, and go for a walk in the sun. Mercifully, whatever else Australia's failings are, it does often have sun in the winter.

5 commenti:

e.f. bartlam ha detto...

You have something real and immediate to worry about...the youngin...try and Focus it on that. You've got responsibilities there and steps in the process with boxes to be checked off. You can get relief from those.

This other business of worrying about what might happen and how awful it would be if it did is not heathy at all. I know how hard it is to turn that stuff off once it starts gotta do it.

You got big days ahead. Never mind being a good'll handle that no's going to be fun.

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

I think part of the problem is that I've already had a few efficiency spurts (not to mention some splendid kindnesses from friends and family) and we're already materially ready for it to come out. Several months early. I've left myself too much fretting time!

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

Also, I'd kill to be able to go for a bloody run.

Melbine ha detto...

Too much fretting time is never good, it's very true! And I completely understand about the running thing. I went for a walk last night and while it was lovely to see my friend, all I really got out of it was a sore back and severe pain in the balls of my feet!

Enjoying all of the baby movement though and focusing on snuggling this baby in to my neck and loving it until I practically burst! I'm so conscious that I won't be doing this again. Anyway, if you need to chat re. depression, I'm always here!! Love you!

Mistress La Spliffe ha detto...

You're a love, Melbine. Skype me soon. Lots of questions for you!