meltdown Archives - Page 6 of 6 -

Cryptic

January 12, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I was going to just respond (and clarify) the comments on my last post, but it turned into a bit of a story on its own so here you go.

I didn’t at all mean to be cryptic, but out of respect for the others in my family who are involved with this particular issue I don’t want to provide details. And it actually doesn’t even really matter what it is. I think the main thing for me is the dismay that comes from feeling like (to reiterate the analogy) all the pieces were coming together only to have something I didn’t anticipate (note: not a lack of sleep, sadly) knock me over again.

I wrote about it because I was so mad, so upset that I needed to somehow get it out. And this has become my outlet (or one of them, anyway). I’m still trying to find my voice and my approach to this story. I don’t want to use this blog to diarize every up and down and every little negative thought that goes through my head because I know full well no one wants to read that.

But part of my intention in telling my story is to say: this is what I find hard and this is how I react to that, and if you do that too you’re not alone. It’s also to note what helps me, and what I’m doing to help myself, in the hope that maybe it will help others too.

Sometimes none of that matters and I just have a horrible, no good, very bad day. That’s what yesterday turned into (and today wasn’t a whole lot better). So I admitted it and in doing so what I’m actually saying is, “Help me.”

But if I sound positive, I’ll take that as a sign that things have improved for me in the last few months and hold on to that.

Filed Under: Postpartum depression · Tagged With: meltdown

Jenga

January 12, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I’ve been playing a bit of mental health Jenga lately. I was cheating a little bit, though – putting on more blocks than I was taking out. A whole bunch of them on top of my tower were making it feel really strong: seeing a counsellor, finding ways to get more sleep, this blog, supportive friends and family, the supportive community I’m finding on Twitter. I didn’t get to totally rig the game, though. There were blocks coming out that make things a bit tough – people who seem to not really understand, trying to exercise and eat better but not really doing all that well with it.

Then last night the wrong block came out and my tower crashed. But I’ve got all the pieces though – at least I think I do. I just have to pick them back up again and try to rebuild that tower.

Filed Under: Postpartum depression · Tagged With: meltdown

The Question of Sleep

January 11, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I’m going to leave aside the blog name for a moment because right now I don’t actually give a shit what this blog is called. Though, to be honest, “Rage Against the Baby” is seeming apt.

I haven’t told you the whole epic sleep story but for now suffice to say my kid doesn’t sleep well. This was a major fear of mine going into parenthood, and I actually had no idea how bad it would be. There are theories about what causes someone to get postpartum depression, from chemistry to genetics to a birth experience that didn’t go as you’d have wished and so on. I think genetics plays a part for me, but I honestly think the major culprit for me is sleep. I just do not cope when I’m overtired.

Today was one of those days.

I didn’t sleep at all well on Saturday night or last night when I was on monitor duty. (My husband and I alternate nights so we only have to get up every other night.) On Saturday a series of four wake-up freak-outs in a row had me waving the white flag and allowing a wiggling child to sleep with me. Just didn’t want to deal with it all night. He slept. Me? Not so much.

Last night he was up over and over again until 5:30 at which time I gave up and brought him in with me. This is usually a sanity-preserving strategy rather than one designed to get me more sleep, because I generally can’t fall asleep again at that time of the morning. But today he did his usual wiggle, settled down and I crashed.

I know. Tell me that bringing him into bed with me is just prolonging the problem. Tell me that I haven’t been strict enough, or consistent enough, or whatever enough in the middle of the night and that’s why he’s a crappy sleeper. Trust me, I know. When I’m not tired (well, relatively speaking) I am much better at this. But when I’m tired, and especially when it’s been going on for weeks and weeks despite taking a consistent approach, I just do not have the strength.

Problem is, it actually doesn’t help the big picture either. I think this progression of tweets from today sums it up quite nicely.

First thing this morning, the tired tweet:

Alone in my quiet office when I still have a sense of humour:

Home. Following disagreement with my husband about potty training and two meltdowns from the kid:

And finally, how I always seem to let this ruin my day:

I did choose to hit ‘publish’ on this, obviously, because my question is this: WHY? Why is this so hard sometimes? All of it. I have no idea really why this kid doesn’t sleep better. He’s had good stretches in the past but overall he’s been a nightmare. I also have no idea why this makes such a huge difference to how well I can, or can’t, cope. Noticing this, acknowledging it, realizing it’s temporary – all of those things sometimes help me to cope in the moment and just do the mama stuff I need to do and then go to sleep. But on days like today, it doesn’t matter. Rage wins and my white flag comes out.

Why?

Filed Under: Postpartum depression · Tagged With: admissions, meltdown, rage, sleep

Wherein the holidays come back to bite me

January 4, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I was at home for a week and a half over the holidays and I think C got used to it. You’d never have known that yesterday, when we concluded that the change from his normal routine was what was causing him to behave less than angelically. So, this morning, back to work I went thinking it would be nice to get back to normal and maybe see the end of a bit of the tiny terrorist.

Had a good day at work. Got organized, was feeling in control, looking ahead to some of our upcoming work and being excited about it. My boss is off for a couple of months, during which time I get to pretend to be him. Day 1 and I haven’t screwed anything up yet. After work I went to an appointment with my counsellor (I made it through at least 7 minutes before starting to cry. 7 minutes, people! That’s a record.) and felt that it helped. She says stuff that makes me think, and while I always find it hard to change my perceptions of myself, I can at least do it on an intellectual level and start to question some of my reactions.

And then home. C was just finishing dinner and after some prompting ate a few more bites and was rewarded with some ice cream. He told me a bit about his day and we did some puzzles, and I was thinking, “Oh yeah, I’ve got this mom thing down. Look at me: went to work, had a good day, did something good for myself, now playing with my kid and thinking how funny he is.”

Things went fine at bath time. Reading stories, fine. (I love how much he’s loving books these days.) Brushed teeth, and he actually cooperated fairly well. Had our nightly cuddle in the rocking chair. He was squirmy and despite seeming tired he wasn’t getting sleepy.

“Ah well, I thought. He’ll crash soon enough.”

So I put him into bed, same as every other night. Aaaaand…. cue meltdown.

“I WANT TO SLEEP IN MUMMY’S BED!” “I LOVE you, Mummy!” “I DON’T WANT TO SLEEP IN MY BED!” “I WANT MUMMY’S BED!!!”

Apparently the change in the change in routine didn’t go over so well.

I want to say, “Why do I never see these things coming?!” And then I hear my counsellor’s voice in my head saying, “Why are you criticizing yourself for this?” So I’ll simply say this:

A few months ago, I would have been crying along with him, pleading with him to go to sleep. I probably would have walked out of his room for fear that I was going to say something that betrayed my lack of patience, and then walked right back in again for fear that he was going to climb out of his crib and land on his head. (Yes, he’s 2 1/2 and he’s still in a crib. I haven’t had the strength to suffer through that particular transition.)

Instead I just stood there for a minute and thought, “I don’t know what do to here. My mom instinct is not kicking in.” Cover face with hands, deep breath, give it a minute.

Progress. Better than I used to be, which gives me hope that perhaps one day my child will have a meltdown and I’ll know what to do, even if I don’t learn to expect it.

Filed Under: Uncategorized · Tagged With: bedtime, meltdown, mom's instinct