Down Swing

I've always tried to be very honest on this blog. I feel that glossing over struggles and pretending everything is perfect only does others a disservice. So, today we take a break from all the adorable pictures and baby lists to be brutally honest.

I'm not doing well.

There I said it. I think the happy pregnancy hormones have finally worn off because I realized the other day that I've been swinging for a month or two. One of the biggest challenges of having Type II Bipolar Disorder is that it's really hard to tell when you swing from one extreme to another. It's like living in a world with no rulers. You have no "normal" to compare back to. The ruler I've found recently though is my housekeeping. For a while there I was getting up every morning about a half an hour before I needed to leave and unloading the dishwasher, picking up the living room, etc. while Turtle hung out in her high chair and played. For the last week or so I haven't been able to get out of the bed before I absolutely have to. Yes, Turtle's erratic sleep patterns contribute to this, but it's more than that. It's not a feeling of being sleepy, it's a feeling of being overwhelmed... too overwhelmed to face the dishes or the table that needs cleaning off or the finances that are a big fat mess right now, or the doctor bills that are going unpaid, or the ....

I know that guilt and shame are the enemies of all mommy's (in all situations), but at my house these evil twins seem to have taken up residence lately. I feel like having to work has made me a failure as a mother, the distraction of missing Turtle all day has made me a failure as an employee, wanting to spend any extra time in the evenings and weekends with her has made me a failure as a wife, housekeeper, and pet owner. Our yard is in complete disarray making me a failure as a homeowner and neighbor. I'm only able to keep in minimal contact with my friends making me a failure as a friend. Last week was National Breastfeeding week where in a bunch of my awesome mommy bloggers posted about their struggles and ultimate triumphs in breastfeeding remind me of my failure to breastfeed my daughter and give her the best. I read an article on NPR the other day about birthing and the comments were filled with "natural" birth advocates railing against interventions which reminding me of my dual failures: first being my judgement of mothers birth choices and failure to have compassion for others before I had Turtle and second my failure to achieve my goal of giving Turtle a non-medicated birth. Failure seems to be at every turn.

The logical part of my brain knows this is my illness, but that doesn't make it any easier. The feeling of wanting nothing more than to crawl back in bed and shut it all out is just as strong.

I must keep reminding myself of the Bi-Polar's motto: This too shall pass.

this too shall pass...

this too shall pass..