A few months ago, on RUOK day, I posted a status on my Facebook page that basically said I was struggling. My girls had been endlessly sick, my hardworking husband had been pushing the limits of how much he could do which took him away on many weekends, and my work was feeling extremely stressful as I faced the possibility of being removed from a job I absolutely cherished. I was lonely, tired, constantly fighting of viruses and infections and occasionally getting sick myself, and was very much missing contact with my people, who I was quarantined away from due to caring for unwell children at least every second week. God, so far this just sounds like one big whinge, I know. But you know what? One thing, layered on top of the next, and the next and so on, with no end in sight and no respite granted was grinding my wellbeing down to a small pile dust.
I felt anxious, and each time one of the girls became unwell, it affected me dramatically. Instead of just coping with an illness, it felt like I was needing to deal with the current issue, and the past ten that had only just occurred in the past few months. My feelings of despair and frustration bloomed and my levels of happiness and general satisfaction in life floundered to an all time low. I felt resentful towards Greg, who didn't have the same entitlements in his employment, meaning that mostly I was the one missing out on my work all the time, to care for our sick little people, and I hated feeling so bitter about it.
And as you might be aware, I am an open book. If you give me half a chance, I will tell you without holding back how life is in the here and now, whether it be good or bad. Which I felt I had done so, through conversations with my people, and through messages etc.
So when I posted on Facebook on RUOK day and stating I wasn't OK, and both my parents rang questioning me on if I was depressed I couldn't really see where they were coming from. It wasn't anything they weren't already aware of right? It wasn't like I had been pretending all along that everything was fine and all of a sudden I made an announcement that took them by surprise. My status was consistent with every conversation we had had in the past six months! I thought about their responses long and hard over the next couple of weeks, and suddenly realised that maybe I had given them reason to worry.
Maybe there was reason to worry.
Along with this all happening, in the back of my mind is the eternal question of whether we will choose to try for a third child or not....of which neither Greg nor I are definitely committed either way. And in my thoughts of this, was the underlying current of the anxiety I felt when we I was learning to adjust to being a parent of one more. I remembered the stress I felt not knowing how to separate my absolute commitment to my first born into a shared, often distracted commitment to my two children. The constant feeling that I wasn't quite getting it right, and I wasn't coping with it all. The sense of overwhelming pressure to continue to be the same type of mother I was to my first to my second, and how to split myself between the two, always feeling there wasn't enough of me to go around. Was it an undiagnosed Post Natal Depression that I had experienced? And was I ready to throw myself back to the wolves if they came my way?
And with that, I realised that wow. If I am potentially going to decide not to have another child because I am worried about my mental health, maybe I should actually be more proactive about my situation, so that it is not a consideration in this massive life decision. Phew.
So I took myself off to my doctor to flash my boobs and explained my fears of depression, and my endless low mood that just wouldn't shove off (see http://waitingforthebellylaugh.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/hi-doctor-i-think-i-have-chest.html, didn't really flash boobs... this time). It was the best thing I could've done. As we talked through how I was feeling, it occurred to me that he had been along this journey the whole way, he had been seeing Granger family members so regularly over the past year that he might as well had given us a regular spot. He put me through a couple of tests, and found that no, perhaps I wasn't clinically depressed, but I was definitely lacking in sleep and was struggling with the situation I was in. It was him that pointed out to me that perhaps I needed to do a few things for me at this point. So on doctors orders, I took a week off work while the girls were in daycare and Greg was at work, got my hair done, spent time in the sun, began reading again and generally did things that were all just about getting some 'good' into my soul again. And then I took 4 days away from my family and spent time with my sister, bro in law and nephew in Melbourne. Getting away was exactly what I needed to recharge myself so that I could return home to be the mother and wife I want to be, rather than the irritable, cranky and sad person I was before then. Small steps for me helped a great deal to fill up my internal bank of wellbeing and soul happiness that comes with being well.
But it also challenged me in a big way. Because as much as I adore my time with Greg and the girls, if I don't have time doing things other than being that wife or mother, I suffer. I don't actually thrive anymore. If it's all about them, I wilt. Yet there is a pressure these days to be it all. As I look around at all the different mums I know, I reflect on the type of parents we all are (chosen or inherent) and often, its hard not to compare how we all measure up. I am envious of the mums who place themselves happily and selflessly at the bottom of the list and wonder how they don't become resentful about doing it all. I am jealous of the mums who are playful with their kids while I am trying to figure out how to distract my children for longer to let me wash the dishes or fold some washing.
Its that age old question of who are you? Not what do you do, or what are your skills but who are you. And if anything, parenting has shown me who I am.
I am Lauren. I am an extrovert who needs face to face contact with my people. I am also a bit of an introvert because I also need time away from my people to rejuvenate myself. If I don't focus on me occasionally I become resentful. I forget to look after myself and have moments like this every couple of years or so, because sometime in there I forgot. I have a full and complete love for my children, and my husband, and I can be frustrated by them. I care about their opinions and I respect them entirely. I trust my own judgement. I'm a little judgey of others (I pull myself into line when I notice). Most of the time, I'm self aware. Almost all of the time, I'm riding with my emotions on my sleeve and my faith in my back pocket. And I'm a bit insecure at times, and I need to remind myself more often that my style of mothering works for my girls. That my needs cannot be ignored, because I end up in a sad heap.
In my case I was lucky. I caught myself in time. I talked with people, I talked with my doctor and I was honest with my people in what I needed to do, despite the fear of them judging me. And after doing what I knew I needed to do, I feel much more like myself and less like an overwhelmed emotional mess. I'm back to normal Lauren, until next time.
Where are you at and how well do you know what you need? Can you express what you need with fear of judgement? Can you obtain what you need? Will you?
Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Great *
*except when it's not...
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