i seem to be sad
Posted: February 4, 2010 Filed under: Uncategorized 11 Comments »I am soooooo working around the edges of the issue this week. Crying over all the wrong things. But here is a list of those things.
There is all this death a few steps removed from me lately – a co-worker's husband, another's great-aunt, a high school acquaintance.
I am feeling frustrated at work, as though I have come up against a totally imaginary brick wall of my own invention and as though everything I have been working on all year is misguided and impossible.
I suddenly realized I am still being peer freaking reviewed. Another round to go before the thing is finished in April.
It's taking forever for our crib to sell because the lovely old-timey Canadian company that made it went out of business and no one wants to trust it now. And there's a big shelf in the minimal hall outside our bedroom waiting for someone stronger than I to come along and help Wes move it to the basement. Our dishes aren't getting done speedy fast lately because we are both exhausted. The house feels yuckier than normal, disorganized. We have an extremely low tolerance for this around here. It makes us cranky.
The getting of financial aid for Beckett to attend my school was a far more hideous and vulnerable-feeling process than I expected and left me feeling exposed and raw walking around my workplace. And I get to do it every year.
There are a lot of fun conferences I want to attend and I can't.
Um. What else? I have to work on Saturday but there is supposed to be a snowstorm so I highly doubt anyone will come to the event and this will be awful.
I hate winter. My body hurts like crazy. I need to do something about it but everything seems to cost money we do not have.
But I could get a Flexeril prescription pretty easy. I could. But I haven't. I can't even talk about it.
The reason I cannot even approach the whole situation is the reason I can take the Flexeril now. It is also the reason I can (and do) have a beer each night at 5 pm lately.
Er. Um.
Blergh.
Beckett seems to have weaned himself.
Twelve days ago.
I can't go on typing about it. A deeper explanation of my emotions will have to come in the next post.
Blergh.
wish I could join you for a beer.
you have been so quiet lately and now I see why.
W weaned completely a week ago and I was shocked that my first reaction (after feeling very lost and sad) was elation that I could now take alka-seltzer for my chest cold.
xo
Sending you a hug. I felt just awful after Maggie weaned. Post partum depression part two awful. In addition to feeling depressed, I physically felt terrible – I would describe it as flu-like. And just as I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, it passed. And then I felt like me again. (And being able to drink again is pretty awesome.) But I am sorry that all of these things are getting you down right now.
We’ll buy your crib! I keep saying to Justine that I would totally buy a modern attractive drop sided crib if one still existed (and then I would curse you under my breath for having bought the very last one ever made). Email me when you get a chance with how much you want for it and a picture if you have one.
Ugh, so sorry. After I lost my mother, and after some time passed, I have found that when people around me who I’m not close to lose people they love, it just makes me really sad. Sad I think like you’re talking about, where it gets under your skin but doesn’t seem to have a direct explanation. It also does seem like there’s some hormonal changes post-weaning that could be related to the way you’re feeling.
I’ll be thinking of you.
At the risk of sounding insensitive, you’re not alone. I have so many friends (ok, I’ll include myself here!) that are also in some deep, dark place – it’s like there’s something in the air that’s just sucking all the good out of our lives.
My point? {{{HUGS}}} from someone going through the same thing.
Be gentle on yourself. The sadness over weaning is real — and it will eventually get better. As it does, other things should improve too, like your feelings about the dishes and the shelf and the crib and the peer review and all.
Good luck. It’s not easy.
weaning K was so sad for me – big hugs to you
also – I felt so sick & teary yesterday after you posted L’s death – tho I hardly knew her in high school – it just seems so wrong for her to die that young – not to mention thoughts of our own mortality -etc
Well no wonder you feel sad girl! Think of all those delicious brain chemicals nursing gave you for so long and now they’re gone! Of course, you’re sad – and that’s just the neurobrainchemistry side of things, let alone the usual winter blahs/house/crib/financial stuff going on. Cut yourself some slack! I’d be in a funk too.
If need be, get a cleaner in to help tidy up. Don’t sweat the peer review – who’s better than you – NO ONE! And the crib will sell and the financial stuff is always icky no matter what. And go get that Flexeril – it will make you feel better.
Oh and be grateful that you aren’t here in Philly – 2 feet of snow!!
Sending you lots and lots of good thoughts and really wishing that we’d met irl so I could offer to take you out for a beer sometime soon if we both weren’t totally exhausted.
I found I actually missed Amelia after I stopped nursing, even though she was still right there. I missed having boobs, too. Be very nice to yourself, and enjoy your beer.
Aw, sweetie. It is very sad. Be sad.
L’s death got to me too. I didn’t know her well but she was sweet and talented. Also she’s the first person I know my age that died of something other than an accident.
The other stuff just sucks, moreso because it comes with a bunch of other stuff that sucks.
But now you can drink. And drink lots of coffee. And take whatever meds when you need them. If Beck is anything like Ender, he’ll remain interested in your boobs for a very long time. I’m starting to wonder if we’re getting into some Freudian weirdness over here. What he’s lost from nursing he’ll make up with cuddling and that’s okay too.