I just had a baby 6 weeks ago, and my hormones are a piece of shit right now. Guys, if you want to know what postpartum anger/anxiety/depression feels like, just imagine having a hot stripper get you all hot and bothered, start to jerk you off, then step on your dick right before you cum with her hooker heel while she forces you to listen to her about how she was raped as a little girl for hours. That is what it feels like for a girl. Sorry if that is kinda abstract, but that scenario seems like a perfect hell for a guy, and hell is what postpartum depression is. So that is what I am in right now. I used to think postpartum depression was just an excuse for whiny bitches to feel sorry for themselves for having a new responsibility, and having the attention diverted away from them. But no, Brooke Shields is right and Tom Cruise is wrong. It is fucking hell. God I hate that I am “one” of them. The postpartum crazies. But I guess I had no choice.
Today my Husband told me “you don’t handle things well”. So combine postpartum depression, homesickness, loneliness, no car-ness, and sleeplessness and you get this kind of response in my brain:
What things? All things? Some things? Many Things? Life? What, do I suck at life? You are telling me I suck at Life? You hate me? You never loved me? You are a bad guy. I made a mistake. This is all too much. I need air. I will go outside. There is not enough air in the air. What the hell, is someone burning a fire next door, I can’t breath, where is the air? I will go for a run. Why is everyone watching me? Why is everyone staring at my belly? They think I have a weird run. They think I will never lose my baby weight. They are judging me. I hate them. I am such a bad mom. We were too poor to have kids. Responsible people get rich before they get knocked up. They will never be able to go on tropical vacations. It’s my husband’s fault. Yeah. He should have done this. He should have done that. Why doesn’t he do this. Why doesn’t he do that. I am so fat. I am getting wrinkles. God hates me. I should meditate. Okay, OHHHHMMMM….but, but, but, but, but, why, why, why, why, cry, cry, cry, cry, yell into a pillow. I hate this pillow. That never works. Break something. Oh, we need that. Put it down. Try being a cutter like the kids on MTV. Oh, that will hurt. Never mind. Its my Husband’s fault. Why did I turn down that sweet guy in middle school. I should have dated him. His family was rich. Then I would be rich. Then my kids would be able to go to Tropical islands. I understand gold diggers now. They are just savvy investors, not whores. I wish I had a car. I wish I had a cell phone. I traded money for romance. The romance is lost since the baby was born. Will it ever come back? “WWAAAAAHHHH”, OH! baby is crying. Baby needs to nurse. “MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY.” OH! Toddler needs me. But baby is attached to boob. Don’t want to detach baby from boob, for fear of further nipple pain. Toddler will have to wait. “MOMMY!! MOMMY!! WHHEERRREE ARE YOU???” Hold it together. Your ex would laugh at you right now. Get the last laugh. He can’t win. You need to win. Charlie Sheen is a douchebag. But he is kinda smart too. What the hell. I need to get hammered. I need to get hammered with Charlie Sheen. What? I need a line of coke. NO! I am a mom. That is wrong. That is horrible. What is wrong with you. Keep it together. What time is it? 4pm??? It needs to be toddler bed time NOW! I can’t do this. This is too hard. “Yes, honey, I will get you your juice in just a minute. Waaahhhhh. I said I would get it. Please be patient. Waaaahhhh. Oh, don’t you start now, baby girl. EVERYONE CALM DOWN. Let’s go outside. Oh, it is 105 degrees out. Nevermind.” Why the hell do we live in North Texas. This is hell on earth. I miss my friends. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. I need a car. I can’t let people know I am struggling. Everyone needs to think I am great. Everyone needs to be jealous. They can’t see me like this. They can’t hear about me like this. I am NOT like this. This is not me. I am not weak. My nipples hurt so bad. My brain hurts more. My stomach hurts, I need to eat. But not too much, I need to lose weight. Is is nap time yet??? “yayyy! Go down the slide! Whheeee.” I just want to scream. “Yay! this is fun! show me how high you can jump. Oh, calm down lil girl. momma’s here.” I shouldn’t have called my mom today. She will just use this against me. When I forgive him, she will say all the wrong things.
So yeah, Psycho pretty much. It is such a huge burden. It sucks. Luckily it won’t last forever, but for shits sake. One minute of this is long enough.