I don’t think the blues I’ve been experiencing on and off since August are going away. I want them to. I desperately want them to, but they’re not. Over the past 24-hours I’ve been trying to think of how to describe it because I know I’m going to have to see the doctor to talk about things. The word “depressed” doesn’t cut it. Neither does “overwhelmed,” although I feel both. This morning, when my alarm went off in my ear, it hit me. Heaviness. Bogged down. I wake up every morning, sometimes to the alarm and sometimes to Griffin fussing to find a more comfortable position in his crib, and I want to cry (and sometimes I do as soon as my eyes open). Why? Because I feel the weight of the world on me. And you can all try to convince me that I’m just overreacting. On a cerebral level I know this, but my goodness, it sure feels that way…and that’s what’s important. I feel this heaviness pushing down on me every single day. Every single second. And as hard as I try, and believe me, I’ve tried, I can’t get out from under it.

The heaviness is work and financial stress. It’s taking care of people – Griffin and Duncan and even Patrick. It’s feeling like I have nothing that’s truly mine. Seriously, as hectic as NaNoWriMo was, it was so lovely because it was all mine. It was my challenge and my time to do something for me. I’ve lost myself somewhere along the way and what I’m left with is this weight that sits on me, pushing down harder and harder. It makes me feel trapped and sometimes I have these flashes of “this is my life now” and that makes me feel even more claustrophobic.

I worry all the time. About Griffin and finances and everyone’s health. I used to love sleep, but now I find myself dreading going to sleep. As strange as it might sound, I’m worried that something bad will happen in the middle of the night. I think about Griffin’s bout with pneumonia and how he just woke up and had this insanely high fever. I think about the phone call we got at 2:30 AM almost one year ago that Patrick’s father had a heart attack and was on life support. I figure that if I stay up, nothing will startle me in the middle of the night. Stupid? Yes, but I don’t know how to work through that. And when I do sleep, I wake up to the smallest sound and I stay awake.

I have an appointment with my regular doctor this afternoon to discuss antidepressants. I tried my hardest to avoid them, but right now, I don’t see how I can. It makes me feel like a failure, like I couldn’t do it on my own (even with seeing a psychologist). It makes me feel like I’m not strong enough when I always thought I was pretty tough.

I don’t want people to think I’m relying on medication to make me better, but I think I need a jumpstart. The weight is so heavy that it clouds my view on everything. Going to work is frustrating. Cooking dinner is too much to handle. Griffin’s recent meltdowns are driving me to tears. This isn’t me normally. It’s the weight. And right now, I don’t see any other way to help lift it.

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