It has been a while I know and whilst I am making a concerted effort not to make excuses I feel... I should explain.
Obviously I have never made it a secret that I struggle with motherhood, the increasing pressure (probably self-inflicted) makes me feel like a terrible mother daily. The outpourings on social media of celebrity mothers who themselves are also struggling does serve to ease my mind a little but it is still a daily struggle.
Whilst I am not saying I have post natal depression (as I don't), I am exhibiting a lot of the signs of it but these "feelings" have been around long before my son, I just failed to do much about it instead putting it down to unhappiness or circumstance. This month has been a "down" month, where I have struggled to do many things, including what I would deem to be a fun mum. I have signed back up with my kinesiologist to get myself back in order and to an extent that was successful as I had my first and second home painting session with my son in the last couple of weeks that went without a hitch. Until my body started rejecting the new remedies I have been taking and I am now back to square one. Joy.
When I was younger (like my late teens, early 20s), I had so much enthusiasm and wanted to learn so much from everywhere all of the time. I have never been a university person, I did go for a year but it really wasn't for me but I love to learn. I suppose you could say that my thirst for knowledge and learning has never truly waned but my enthusiasm definitely has. I approach new jobs like a giddy school girl, excited and wide eyed, ready to take on anything. Usually within the first two weeks, that excitements fades as I am left with the realisation that the company have no intention of letting me learn more than my actual job role and their own disenchantment becomes contagious. Years of this I suppose have worn me down.
Then there is the social aspect. I am the organiser, the planner. I always have been. Before my son, I was the one who arranged outings, coordinated friends' diaries so we could all meet up and make sure we had gone to that bar that does those amazing cocktails or eaten that weird combination of ice cream that only hipster pop-up bars have etc. When I started my maternity leave... nothing happened. No one arranged anything, people contacted me to see how I was etc but I am assuming people thought I would be so consumed with motherhood I wouldn't be able to actually go out ever again. In fact, that was when I needed to go out the most, when I was still in the early stages of motherhood, when my son did nothing but literally drink, sleep and poop and was easy to take care of, before I realised this was not what motherhood was supposed to feel like. Whilst I love all of my friends, I often feel very much alone.
Maybe to an outsider it is obvious but to me I couldn't see that anything was wrong with anything in my life. I have a very nice life, my husband is supportive, patient and helpful, my son seems to be trying his hardest not to be a tearaway, I have a good relationship with my sister, my friends are great, I have a roof over my head and food in my fridge. Life could obviously be a lot worse and I am grateful yet so sad that I don't seem grateful.
As I am writing this, I am indeed, sad. I don't wish for sympathy or a cuddle I just feel the need to say it out loud. That does not mean to say this is it for my online diary but I feel like I am spinning so many plates at the moment. Once I can settle myself, successfully celebrate our family's first holiday and my son's second birthday then maybe things will be a little more calm. Roll on 2017, I'm so over 2016 already.
~AB~
