This post initially was just titled Waffles and was going to be a light hearted post about the fact some weeks I'm awesome with working out, others, not so much. Instead, here goes nothing...
I am struggling. A LOT. Financially we're way over extended, emotionally, I'm tapped dry, physically, well, other than being hungry, but not wanting to eat (mostly for fear of binging & having not much to eat), I'm doing okay. Honestly though, I am scared, broken hearted and depressed.
I'm scared because we can't afford to live in our house, but we have 6 months left on our lease and can't afford to pay 1st/last/deposit to move anyway. I'm scared because we have bills to pay, but no money to do so because we've spent every last dime we've saved/put away for retirement to keep the roof over our heads. I'm scared because I don't like what the stress has done to me and my relationship with my kids. I love them to pieces, but I've been Madam grumpy pants all week. I feel guilty that I don't get a job to help Kyle financially, but then feel guilty because I like being home with the kids and working full time doesn't help us when day care for both kids full time is probably as much, if not more than I'd be earning, making it completely worthless. I also am scared to put myself out there. I hated part time jobs growing up, but really should consider it. The catch is that Kyle is often not home until 6pm, leaving little time in the evenings to work, and I don't want to give up my weekends with him & the kids together to work and bring hardly any money in.
I'm broken hearted because Noah turns 1 tomorrow and we have no gifts to give him. I can try to rush through and finish his baby blanket that I started before he was born, but still. I am broken hearted because there won't be any gifts under the tree for the kids for Christmas. At least not ones we paid for. I am broken hearted that I've left a rift grow in my relationship with Kyle. Thankfully, it isn't too bad, but we're both hurting a lot and I've put a lot of distance between us because I was too proud to admit to him how scared I am of everything.
I'm depressed. Yes, clinically, post partum, and seasonally. I've suffered from depression for at least a decade, I've admitted it in the past, but it seems to get worse. I can't cope with the financial strain we're under, the kids' needs often leave me feeling overwhelmed with the simplest tasks. I lose my temper at least a few times a day, I often wonder if I was really cut out to be a mom. I question myself constantly and I wonder if the kids can feel secure with me. At the end of the day, I know they do, they know I love them, and they love me back. I can't ask for anything more than the unconditional love we share. I just feel so inadequate and so worthless so much of the time. Man I miss my therapist Dr Lara. We were starting to make progress while I was pregnant with Em, but then I never went back. She helped me feel normal for the first time in a while, but I've back-slid quite a bit.
Here is a letter I wrote to Ellen DeGeneres today that sums up what I've been bottling up for the last year - and probably why I've been so miserable. It's ironic that I was able to be completely honest and transparent with someone that is a total stranger, other than her show coming into my living room and offering a sense of escape for a short time each day. While I've admitted parts to various friends from online groups, I've never come out and said all of it. Now I'm starving and need to eat a snack.
Dear Ellen,
I’m a huge fan and try to watch the show every day. I am always moved seeing your kindness and generosity. This past year was difficult for my family and your show was one of the things that helped me put on a brave face for my two kids.
Last Christmas, my husband was in the hospital and I was snowed in at home with the kids. We didn’t celebrate and it was one of the lowest points in my life. I vowed this Christmas would be better, but my husband was laid off at the end of January and the job he found pays only half of what he had made. We’ve used all our saving to pay rent and are behind on all of our bills. We can no longer afford to stay in our home, but can’t afford the deposits to move somewhere more affordable and closer to my husband’s job, 50 miles away. We’ve had to empty our kids’ piggy banks just so he could buy gas to get to and from work.
Our parents have been generous helping to keep us afloat, but it is embarrassing and unfair to them to continually ask for help each month. I’m grateful that both of our kids are young enough that the true meaning of Christmas is enough, but I am broken hearted that we can’t afford to get any gifts for them. I try to remember that each day I give my love, time and prayers to my family and it’s the best gift I can give.
Thank you for helping me get through my day. It’s the one hour where I can ignore the stress we’re facing and focus on the joy you bring to others.
Gratefully,
Michele
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