Empty My Hands

I've got voices in my head and they are so strong  

And I'm getting sick of this, oh Lord, how long  

Will I be haunted by the fear that I believe  

My hands like locks on cages  

Of these dreams I can't set free

It's been so long since I've had these feelings that I almost don't know what to do with them anymore. I remember a really bad time in my life when this used to be commonplace... The anger, the rage, the remorse and the tears. The insomnia. The lethargy. The hopelessness. I would keep myself busy with work and working out. I would drink to sleep. I would take pills after a few drinks to make sure I got a night's worth of sleep. And most of the time, I would pray. Pray to just not wake up. It was too much. All of it.

I'm seeing red more often again these days. I get so angry at the silliest things and I can't seem to control it. I've been running everyday this week for my aunt. Technically, she's Nathaniel's aunt, but she seems to have taken a liking to me so it's easier to call her my aunt as well. Everyday. During all the running, I haven't even been able to make it to the gym once this week. Wednesday was supposed to be my "day off". I wasn't going anywhere, no matter what. I wanted a day to catch up on my housework and play with my daughter without some interruption. Then the phone rang. It was the hospital: they found a clot in Aunt Lee's leg and needed me to bring her her stuff from rehab up to the hospital. I was so angry that I wanted to strangle her. If I could have gotten away with it, I think I would have beat her within an inch of her life And I would have been indifferent.

The anger doesn't make sense anymore. To get so angry like that for no reason. I remember when that used to be normal.. to get angry and stay that way for days. To keep everything bottled in. But it's so unfamiliar to me now that I can't remember how to channel it. So I lash out at everyone around me. I rag on Nathaniel about drinking and having fun with his friends because I'm tired of being left out. I condemn Josh and Kelsey for not ever making time for Aunt Lee because I want to be the one who gets to run away from someone else's family. And I resent Aunt Lee because this is supposed to be my happy time... I just got a wonderful baby and I'm getting married in two months but instead of getting to plan wedding stuff, I'm taking care of a stubborn, irritating old woman who is so set in her ways that she doesn't realize she is killing herself.

I don't get it. I'm not supposed to get postpartum when my daughter is over 9 months old.... That is something that happens in the beginning when the baby is new and all the stresses of being a parent become tangible. It's not supposed to happen when your daughter is smiling and laughing and learning to walk and talk. It just doesn't make sense to me. But everything I'm feeling, everything I've written down and then looked at later, points to postpartum. Which isn't really even a long stretch considering I already deal with "normal" depression and anxiety. I just don't want to believe it.

Some days are bad. I love Lilah and would never do anything to hurt her. But on the bad days, I find myself pushing her away and not talking to her for hours at a time other than to feed her and tell her to take a bite. She crawls after me when I'm walking around the house like a bird in a cage and cries when I won't talk to her, but I do it anyway. And I get angry for her not leaving me alone. I feel horrible and usually cry about it when she's down for her nap or bedtime where she can't see me. And I try to make it up to her when I'm feeling more like "me" but I don't want to be that kind of parent. The kind that continually does the wrong things and is forever apologizing for it. I had a parent like that and I always swore I would not do that to my babies, if I ever had them.

Other days are good. Almost normal. We get up and get breakfast and play patty-cake and peek-a-boo. We play fetch with Peanut; we watch our cartoons and walk around the yard. We laugh and dance. Those are the days that I enjoy. I workout when she goes down for a normal 2 hour nap. I get my housework done when she goes to bed on time. Then I have time to read or watch tv or just take a long hot shower. Those are the days that I try to focus on. But more and more in the last month, the bad days are starting to outnumber the good days. Especially when Nathaniel is at work for 2 weeks at a time now. Before, with only one week on our own, there didn't seem to be enough time for me to get to that point. But now, it's even worse than before.

I don't want to talk to anyone about PPD. I know what all the bible thumpers down here say. I don't want them trying to take my child or saying I'm "unfit". That's the part that scares me. I want to get back on anti-anxiety or anti-depressants. Even if it's just for a little while until I get to a point where I don't constantly feel so overwhelmed all the time. But I don't want to give anyone a reason to try to take my baby away... I've read horror stories about them removing children that are "in danger" and that scares the hell out of me.

So I guess I'll just continue to try to cope. I'm sorry to everyone I've snapped at lately. I'm trying to keep it under wraps, but these days, it is almost impossible... I'm letting everything go right here:

Aunt Lee's house is disgusting. I spent 3 weeks in October deep cleaning her house because she had a roach and black widow infestation (we had roaches migrating to our side because of sheer numbers). She had rotten food on her counter; her entire fridge was liquified and decomposing. The stuff she had been cooking with ALL said "refrigerate after opening" and she had clearly still been cooking with it. 3 of the 4 rooms in the house were covered in feces and urine (human AND animal). It took me 3 weeks to clean her house. Not to mention the amount of money on pesticides and chemicals I had to use. I texted Josh and Amanda to tell them what I was doing and ask for help since it was such a HUGE job and it was their Aunt-- even if it was to watch Lilah while I cleaned because I really didn't want her to be around all of the filth. She wasn't even 6 months old and the house was toxic. But No One came. Not in the 3 weeks it took to clean everything. Not a single person helped me and Nathaniel get her house back up to semi-livable conditions. I understand being busy. But not one day out of those 3 weeks. Not even for a few hours in those 3 weeks. That upset me. And I believe that this was the trigger for all of the pent up anger I have towards everyone.

Aunt Lee is not my Aunt. My family is 12 hours away. That is for a 1 way trip. 12 hours. But I make it up to see them 2-3 times a year. I understand everyone is busy. I do. But if you can't drive out here to see her, atleast for God's sake, call her once a month. I don't care if you ever see Lilah because of the drive. She has plenty of years left and time to get to know everyone. Aunt Lee is dying and no one even calls her to chat. It hurts her more than you think. 

So here are my apologies. Mostly, it's just to two people who really do mean a lot to me. I have been called an inconsiderate bitch. I've been called an emotional wreck. I've probably been called a lot more than I will ever know. But I try to be honest and I try to understand. But I guess some things are always going to be black and white to me....


Josh and Kelsey. Yes, I get mad because you guys never make it out here. I can say I understand until I'm blue in the face, but the truth is that I don't. I don't understand how you can love someone but never make an effort to see them when they are dying. Maybe some of that stems from the resentment I have towards my Great Uncles when Grandma was literally on her deathbed and they refused to make the 1 hour drive to say their goodbyes while she was alive. I will never forget the sadness and hurt on Grandma's face when the people she loved the most were too busy with their lives to say goodbye to someone they claimed they loved. She was suffering and in pain for 6 months and the doctors had only given her a couple of more months to live. But in all that time, they couldn't manage to take a break to say anything to her. And they never called.
So no, I guess I don't understand. I'm sorry for being angry at you for having busy lives and living so far away but I don't want to see that same hurt on Aunt Lee's face. Because the truth is that you guys will never see it. I will be the one here seeing it when she finally dies. But I truly am sorry for being angry. It is misplaced.

Aunt Lee. Damn I hate you sometimes. Sometimes I think life would be so much easier if I had just told Nathaniel no when he asked me to marry him. God knows I wouldn't be trying to plan a wedding and thinking about a funeral at the same time. You are a stubborn, selfish old bat who refuses to listen to reason. Yea, yea, you can call me a bitch all you want. But the truth is, I have tried everything I could to help get you better and you refuse to give me any help. You won't even try to keep your house up. You won't ask for help when you know you need it. I have to strong arm you to go to the hospital when your doctor told you "the VERY NEXT TIME, go immediately to the ER"  You hoard things that attract roaches... you won't let us get rid of anything you have packed up that you haven't seen in the last 20 years because you want to keep them as mementos. You won't eat what your dr has told you to eat to get better. You won't listen to anyone. Some days I think you really are pulling the same card my Grandpa just pulled. That you've given up and you're just trying to die.  If you are, please let me know because I have never been good with dying. It bothers me because I can't seem to cry at the right moments. I'd rather pull away now while you're still somewhat coherent that have to remember what is going to come next. 


And myself. I offer no apologies because I have behaved badly and irrationally. I can't change how I feel and why I feel that way. 

I am overwhelmed. 
I am trying to plan a wedding with no help and on a small budget. 
I am taking care of a stubborn old woman who is getting worse and worse:
Her house is infested with roaches once again and more junk to replace the stuff I removed.
I am trying to be a good mommy to a little girl that probably deserves better.
I am trying to be a good wife to someone I know deserves much better.
I'm homesick and I need help.