I'm Not Gonna Lie.

There are days when I wake up and want to do nothing. The depression rolls in and my bed calls to me... I wear my fluffy white robe over my jeans and tee because it makes me feel comfortable and cozy. On these days, it's hard to be an active mother, and I hate it, which makes me more depressed.

After three years of being a stay-at-home-mom, I no longer have income coming in to support the family, which causes severe anxiety. It's like I curl up inside myself in a tiny little ball and don't want to come out. My love doesn't understand, even though he says he does. At times it makes me feel like more of a burden than one half of a marriage, a responsibility instead of a desire.

I've been on and off antidepressants since age 15, and I've finally found a combination that works for me, that makes my anxiety lower and my mood stable. It's 0.5 of clonazepam and 20mg of citalopram, the generic Klonopin and Celexa, which I started shortly after the birth of Cole and then again after the birth of Stella. The worst part is, my doctor has an issue with long-term use of clonazepam - despite the fact I'm on the lowest dose and haven't increased since starting the medication - and wants to see me to talk about it. After putting off refilling my prescription for a week, I finally called him at home tonight to tell him his nurse said he refilled it but the pharmacy had heard nothing from him. "Oh," he said. "I forgot."

I wanted to scream, "You FORGOT?! What the hell am I paying you for, buddy? If you want me to see a psychiatrist because you're not comfortable with giving a non-addict a perfect dose of antidepressants, fine! But don't just ignore me for a week! Going off meds suddenly can cause serious problems, and this one happens to cause SEIZURES if it's not weaned from your system properly, buddy. What are you THINKING?!"

The health care system fails. The end.

Phobias & Fears

When I was growing up, being fearless was something that made me especially proud. It was fearlessness that brought me to Dallas, where my future was waiting and currently resides. Well, that was nine years ago and perhaps that saying 'Wisdom comes with age' opens your eyes a little wider so you can avoid stupid mistakes.

I've picked up several fears over the last decade. For example, I developed extreme anxiety and panic attacks after having my son. For a while, I was afraid to leave my house. I was afraid of dropping my son because I fell with him in my arms three times. One resulted in a bit-through lip and nearly broken nose for me and a shaken up, wailing 5-month-old. After I married my husband, my bones would shake every time he raised his voice because of past partners who had been abusive. Seven years later, my body still jumps when he yells, even though it's not at me. (Let me make that more clear. My husband is wonderful, but he has a loud voice and a stressful job. He is just naturally stressed out, poor dude. It's hard being responsible for everything at work and home.)

While I know the reasons for these fears, I thought it would be interesting to go to a phobia list and write them all out.

My Phobias:

Ligyrophobia- Fear of loud noises.

Macrophobia- Fear of long waits.

Acrophobia- Fear of heights.

Athazagoraphobia- Fear of being forgotton or ignored or forgetting.*

Claustrophobia- Fear of confined spaces.

Dystychiphobia- Fear of accidents.

Hodophobia- Fear of road travel.

Iatrophobia- Fear of going to the doctor or of doctors.

Surprisingly, a lot weren't on the list, like fear of driving or being afraid to leave the house, but they fell into other categories. Most of my fears are self-explanatory, like being afraid of the doctor (dentist!), heights, and confined spaces. When Cole was a baby, there was a long period where the thought of driving would literally send me into an anxiety attack. Strangely, my panic attacks can also occur when we're sitting in a long line of stopped traffic or standing in a long, unmoving line. I start looking for the nearest bathroom, closest exit, easiest way out.

So there ya go. This tattooed hippie pirate momma is not fearless, and that's okay. 

*This one will be explained in a later post. 

In a Hole

For about a week, every time the kids and I would come in and out of the house, there was a horrible stench near the front porch. I made the pleasant discovery of the source of that funky smell while we were playing outside. It was a beautiful day, we were all in great moods and had just taken a walk around the cul-de-sac when they decided to play chase in the front yard. I picked up a lawn chair leaning against the garage and BAM! Huge dead rat the size of a baby raccoon. I swear everything is bigger in Texas. There are two empty houses next to us that had high grass, so I guess the rodents came to our house and got into the poison in the garage. I freaked when I saw it, but Kev was a weenie when he came home (weak stomach) so I took the shovel, scooped that dead rat up, bagged him in trash bags and got rid of that sucker. Go me!

sweet misunderstood boy

Sorry I've been hiding in a hole. Bit of a depression lately but I'll be okay. The mister is out of town until Saturday and Cole is so defiant. Yesterday, he kept throwing his fists in my face threatening to punch me, and I bit his fist. I was so tired of him screaming in my face and threatening to punch me, it was my first reaction. He cried, I left a mark on his finger, but he hasn't done it again. He did it again today at such a surprising time - we were in our pajamas cuddled up with blankets reading books together, and he jumped up on the couch and punched me in the top of the head. He will not make me cry. I will not let him see me crying.

I'm also failing at bedtime with Cole, who takes two hours to sleep even though he doesn't nap. It's [Sunday at] 10:30 p.m. and my son is still crying in his room. He loathes bedtime and says he's scared of his room but I'm pretty sure he just hates me. His dad is out of town this week so he's out of his normal routine. ....But this has been going on for a long, long time. We've tried everything from night lights to letting the dog sleep with him, but I can't figure out what he's scared of. First off, he's slept in the same room since he was 1-1/2 and we haven't changed his bedtime routine... ever, really. It's always been 8:30 and he fights it until 10:30. It's exhausting for both Kev and I. I wish I could just fix it. Secondly, we know Cole has nightmares because he wakes up and tells us about them. Third, I don't believe in monster spray because I've always told him there are no monsters, so giving him that would make me a liar. To his defense, both his father and I were and still are night owls, and desperately need time at night alone since they run me all day/he works all day. If we lay down with Cole, he will be out in a heartbeat, but I don't want to have to do that. Grrrr. He won't stay in his room without the gate up, and if I let him stay up to wind down and watch cartoons or play, he gets overexcited and starts jumping on the bed and couches and running around.

trouble

Overall, I'm feeling like a failure of a mother, which is probably cause for my depression. Some days I just want to give up. Worse, they've started tag-teaming me. These days I have to walk away knowing that I'm in for cleaning a disaster area when I come back - they've tried to flood my bathrooms, poured a bottle of Hershey's syrup all over the kitchen, took my Tupperware outside for mud pies, emptied an entire bag of rabbit pellet food all over the kitchen floor, eaten dog food for fun, covered the little white dog in chocolate, and broken daddy's PS3 remotes. We have had to lock the pantry door so C won't steal food! Little monster likes my treats. "One for Cole and one for Stella!" he says. He fed her my Hostess Ding-Dongs in her crib one morning. We woke to discover chocolate covered sheets and a happy little sister. Their antics could fill a book.

Guess who's sleeping on the couch in our bedroom tonight. Fell asleep on his own before 10:00. Maybe he just wanted to be closer to mom? Gotta wake early for his ARD for speech. Wish me luck.

Bad Mom Syndrome

There are some days I wonder of I am cut out to be a mom. Although I know in my heart that my two babies ARE my heart, there are too many moments in our daily life that make me question myself... And it turns into Bad Mom Syndrome, where my kids hate me and I hate myself for my behavior as a mother.

I keep telling myself it's the age, this is a phase, this too shall pass. And I know it will, but right now, almost-10-month-old Miss Attitude is attached to my side like a leech, sucking out my energy, and all of my stress ends up being taken out on my poor 3-year-old son, who doesn't deserve it. I yell more than I like, more than I ever thought I would.

I struggle with depression, stemming back to early high school, and my mind contradicts itself about the medication. When I am on my antidepressants, I'm numb and unable to feel the lows and highs of the emotions of special moments that occur daily. When I'm only on my anti-anxiety medication, the peaks and valleys are dangerous to my children.

I am ashamed of some of the ugly statements made to my son when he's being a normal rambunctious boy. I'm embarrassed by the way I have handled situations where something small sets me into a rage, where he is my target.

Every day, I hate myself for feeling out of control. To have your firstborn, who is supposed to be able to trust his mommy to calm him, cower at the sound of your voice when I move toward him brings me to tears. At times, it makes me believe suicide would be a better thing for them so that I don't cause major irreversible damage to them. However, I know that isn't the answer.

I'm still trying to figure that one out.