Wherein I talk about personal things

*WARNING: Post contains TMI and so if you have sensitive retinas then just don't bother reading.* (But now your going to read anyway, right?)

So. Where do I begin? There are several issues to go over so bare with me.

We'll start with me. Just because.

I'm a walking disaster. A tornado that has actually touched down. On the inside, anyway. I try to hold my shit together while I'm around other people so don't actually LOOK like a disaster, but who knows, maybe I already do and no one is saying anything rude about it. So, thank you. My therapist raised my medications a few weeks ago but I am pretty sure that these tears shouldn't be a side effect. I kid you not- I really don't care if I don't wake up tomorrow. Now, having said that- I'm not about to kill/harm myself because people that do it typically don't talk about it beforehand. But it's true. I'm tired of being a nasty wife who uncontrollably snaps at her husband over the littlest things. WHY IS YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR? I DON'T CARE THAT THE WHOLE ENTIRE FLOOR IS COVERED IN TOYS AND OTHER CRAP, BUT YOUR SOCK JUST PUT ME OVER THE EDGE! People- this sock should not be the issue. This sock should not have me crying. I am calling the therapist right now to have that looked at.

Another problem I am having is with anger. I am angry a lot all of the time. I wish I could pull out the sledge hammer and smash a few things around the house. Maybe the walls, counters, tables- just to name a few smashable surfaces. Sometimes I dream of pulling the plates out of the cupboard and throwing them like Frisbees against the wall and having them smash into 100 pieces. I don't do any of these things because although I am angry and depressed, I am, at least, rational. And I realize that inevitably I would be the one having to clean it up- and that would just take the sport right out of it. I have actually thrown a few (rubber mallet included) things past Jason. Not directly at him- but past him. Maybe I should go to the shooting range.

All of these feelings, plus major anxiety mixed with a REALLY fussy baby have made me lose my milk. This is a really big thing for me as I was able to feed a small nation with my milk supply. Going from feeding a small nation- to not being able to pump out even half an ounce! Addison was just really erratic in her eating amongst the stress and depression. I guess when you add everything up it takes it's toll.

Well, I was NOT ready to give up nursing my baby yet. This is a VERY emotional thing for women to go through. It's one thing to stop when you are ready to stop, but an entirely different thing if you are not ready and are forced. I was devastated (which doesn't help PPD). So I decided to take action. I read all I could about different herbs to try and found Fenugreek to be the one everyone talks the most about. It used to be brewers yeast- but it's the new millennium folks, and Fenugreek is all the rage. So, that day I went to the hippie market and bought me some concoction called "More Milk Plus". Then I had Jason and my Dad give me a blessing. I dedicated the weekend to herbing and pumping and feeding on cue. I called upon the Lord as if it depended on him, and then went into action like it depened on me. And you know what? IT'S BACK PEOPLE! I am offically back in business. The More Milk Plus wasn't kidding around.

Having my milk back however has not stopped the tears and anxiety. I really do feel like the worst mom and wife. I feel ugly, fat and out of control. I'm not used to being out of control. You should see my house! Wait- no you shouldn't. I haven't done my hair or make up for a while. And do you know what? I don't even care. I just.don't.care. And that is the problem. I have called the therapist so I'll let you know how that goes. He is litterally a Mad Scientist.

Then I went boating.