Happy Mother’s Day

I’m lying on the bed with my now 15-month-old baby boy (toddler really) in my arms. It’s hard to write but I feel compelled to scribble my racing thoughts down.

I’m sad. I’m sad that this is my second Mother’s Day and that nothing has really gotten better in the past year. I’m sad that my husband hasn’t done anything for me, no wishing of Happy Mother’s Day, no breakfast in bed, no roses, no gifts, no nothing. Absolute silence. We haven’t even exchanged two words today. It’s like he enjoys to ignore special days like birthday and Mother’s Day and it always makes me so fucking depressed and sad and upset. 

It’s outside stimuli like this that used to make me suicidal. But I think maybe I’m growing older or just getting better, or maybe I just know I can’t let my mind wallow because I have a baby that deserves a mother who functions. Yeah I think it’s the last one. 

I’m almost done with Effexor. I haven’t taken any in two days and I’m dizzy and my mood swings and depression are back. I tapered off in just about 3 weeks. I wasn’t on a super high dose but it’s still been a bit challenging. Especially now the final 25% that I’m trying to get off by taking it every two days is really tough. 

I think I know why I was on it. After M’s birth I was allllll over the place. Even before his birth I was all over the place. Fuck, I think I’ve been all over the place my whole life! 

Antidepressants make you numb.

They lift your mood so that nothing really stings that bad. Outside events hurt occasionally but you don’t go way down into the abyss of depression anymore.

Without medication my mind is sharp. The mental fog is gone. I’m one of those “non-compliant” patients but I don’t care. I just felt like this is what I wanted to do. I was fed up with the side effects: severe debilitating insomnia, lethargy, tiredness, weight gain. Most of all, as I’ve decided to keep breastfeeding until M self weans, I’ve started wondering what this kind of long-term exposure to venlafaxine from birth will do to him.

My psychiatrist has been doing medical research forever and has done a study on venlafaxine and breastfeeding. He gave the paper to me and I found out that it does go into breastmilk but they hadn’t found any adverse reactions. Yet, these studies were done on little babies and they didn’t follow them into toddlerhood so no one knows if the kids ended up having ADHD or autism or allergies or physical problems. M still isn’t walking for example, and I can’t help but think it’s my fault that he isn’t because he gets milk with venlafaxine. 

I wish I had blogged more during the past year. It’s been absolute hell 80% of the time and bearable the rest. I can barely even remember what happened but I know he has just cried and cried and cried day and night for months and months. At three months I remember him crying 8 hours a day plus the nights. He woke up every two hours up until 14 months. I never slept. For about that 14 months I got max 6 hours of sleep in two hour intervals. 

I don’t know how I am alive. It’s been fucking awful. Sleep deprivation is torture!

I have barely done shit all year. All my ideas of walks on the beach, ocean swimming with baby, getting a job and working from home, art and craft classes and jogging with the baby have gone out he drain. I have barely functioned and barely made it.

The upshot is that it’s getting better. With me and the baby for sure. He cries less and he interacts with you and it’s easier. Oh and he sleeps more! My husband and I almost divorced many a time, both of us threatened the other one many many times during the past year. I’ve wanted to leave so many times, go back to Finland and have my mom help me out with the baby and say fuck this shit and never come back. I’ve been so close!

I tell everyone not to have a baby. It’s tough.  Especially if you have mental illnesses, motherhood just exacerbates everything. I feel guilty for saying it but I have fucking hated everything a lot. And I also feel like I’m not allowed to say I love it. It’s like, happiness is for other people, people I envy and I’m jealous of, but misery is what’s in store for me. I can’t bond and like my baby because it’s not my place. I’m supposed to hate everything.

Ahh so happy Mother’s Day to me and to all the moms battling mental illness, addiction, loneliness, all the single mothers and mothers with special needs kids and rainbow babies and no babies and fur babies. Cheers to you all because you’re the real MVP!

M

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