So, last night I cried a lot. There are multiple reasons; all of them stemming from the fact that I have issues with post-partum anxiety coupled with a lifelong struggle with control issues... plus, I'm drama.
Thing is, I have read EVERY book on the discussion of infant sleep. Thing is, I have aided so many of my friends with the problems their babies have with sleep. Thing is, "I'd like to bear my testimony on healthy sleep. I know this to be true."
Thing is, my babies NEVER succumb to my wealth of knowledge and its applications.
I think it's 'cuz they're hyper (my fault). I think it's 'cuz they're smart (Dave's fault). I think it's 'cuz they're not predictable, programmable ROBOTS (God's fault).
As Daphne ages, my anxiety becomes slightly more manageable, and the attacks become slightly less frequent. But when they come, they knock me over with intensity.
My friend,
Liz, recently wrote about her
panic attacks. It was a very good read because it does give a bit of insight into the world of mental illness. But I'm going to quote a sweet little old lady from my ward who gave me a hug a couple weeks ago and said into my ear, "People just can't understand unless they've been there." AmIright, Liz?
It's true. And, I'll be honest - mine is not nearly as intense as some others. But when it peaks, I think my poor hubby just wants to go hide in a corner.
So do I.
When I have these crying jags, Malia says, "Mommy? Do you need a hug?" and gingerly comes to give me her comforting touch. Sometimes, she even begins to cry a little. It makes me feel guilty. But I know myself enough to know that holding it in is the greater of the two evils. CC says, "Are you crying, a-GAIN?!" It's totally heartless and totally hilarious. And, believe it or not, makes me laugh every time.
I cry easily anyway, to be completely honest. I mean, PIXAR movies tear me apart. Even the occasional commercial. Yeah, sometimes (all of the time) I even cry at the end of "Full House" when Danny Tanner waxes all philosophical on his kids. But these anxiety-ridden cries SUCK.
I am counting down the days until my hormones finally feel like they are finding a balance again and when Daphne is old enough that her sleep will organize into a place that finds consistency and I have more control over it (most babies do this at around 4 months, where Daphne is now. But guess who's baby isn't? *thumbs to self* This gal's!).
But I really do need to work harder at enjoying "the now." I need to find ways to overcome those moments when the floodgates are bowing with the pressure of the tears waiting to overflow. But, as anyone who has to deal with these things - these "mental illnesses" - knows, sometimes that's nearly impossible.
So sometimes, you sit on the living room floor, after all the kids have gone to bed, and you sob. HARD. And your poor husband sits on the couch staring at you, because nothing he says is right. And then you go to bed with a headache.
And then you wake up the next day and promise yourself not to let it get that bad again.
And it will.
But, hey. At least that's one consistency I know I can count on...
