The not so pretty me…

Anxiety and depression… I went to the doctor’s. My medication isn’t working as well as it should. It’s ninety degrees outside and sunny, I should want to be out with my kids chasing the dogs instead, I see this invisible fence that won’t let me feel for them. What kind of monster am I? I know that I love them and I will protect them but why can’t I feel for them. They are there and it’s like I’m not even in the same room with them. I have pretty cute kids that cuddle and hug. I should be beaming at them. I know I am physically there but it’s like I can’t be part of their world. An outsider always staring in… Why?

My husband suprises me with roses and I should be over the moon. Instead, I go through the motions of hugging him and giving him a kiss. All the while, I am thinking ugh how long is this going to last. Why did he bother with the flowers? Will he be expecting sex tonight because I don’t think I can handle that. I mean who does that? Me, that’s who. I thank him and try to go to bed before him. I shouldn’t be like this but I am. Why?

I feel like an empty shell and as I explain this to my doctor I feel guilt because there in the room is my husband, holding my hand as I cry about it all. I think how can this man be here like this after I just said that I don’t want him near me. How can he stand to be married to someone like me? I’m robotic and cold. I don’t let my feelings show and when I talk about them I need him in the room with the doctor even if he sees what a monster I am. How can I explain this to anyone? How do I tell people that I love that I can’t love them the way that they might want me to?


Why is it that as parents, we feel like we are undeserving of ourselves? I know that when I wake up to my personal alarm, usually my one and two year olds crying, it’s time to start the day. First thing is to get them settled, usually changing diapers, getting bottles of milk, breakfast, etc. In between, I am usually rushing to drink my coffee knowing that solid breakfast doesn’t really happen until lunch which is  made while they nap… I usually end up sharing my lunch when they wake up in between my eating it.


I know that I do a lot for my family often at my expense and I feel myself burning out, so why do I feel guilt when I take some time for me? Why do I feel awful when my ten minute shower turns into a 40 minute one since the kids are actually napping when I finally decided I had time to become human again? Why is there guilt when I took 20 minutes to read a crappy romance novel that is a luxury instead of rushing to do laundry? Maybe, it’s because time is a luxury or rather those moments to spare are. As parents, we put ourselves last and sometimes that makes us worse. I know I’m not the greatest of parents, I have snapped at my children when I overworked myself and yet I feel guilt when I try to recharge my battery.

The society, we live in now values efficiency and I think it’s great but  it means that the aspects of life or rather the luxury of time for ourselves is obsoleted. Is that where the guilt comes from because I’m no longer being efficient?

Messing up

IMG_2735Every night I go to bed and I think about how bad I messed up. Or rather, are the choices that I made the right one for my family and me. Everyday, I think what can I fudge up on today! No, I don’t think that but I do think that I am messing up royally. I hide my shame and push through thinking I am lucky to be alive so why don’t I feel like it?

It’s morbid, I know, to think the way that I do. I know that this isn’t the way to go about it but I can’t help what I am thinking.  I know that I shouldn’t but regardless I still do it.

Every night, I go to bed thinking how could I do better or rather how can I be better for those that I love? Then, I think isn’t that messed up? Shouldn’t I want to be better for me? Where do I factor into this equation?

I no longer recognize me… I don’t know where I fit or where I should belong… Is that right or wrong? I know that I am important but how do I tell myself that? How do I change this?

It is sad,  I know but I can only be honest with myself when I let go, after a glass of wine. I know this might not be healthy but it’s also not a regular thing. I know I can’t make a habit out of it. Routines are important… they are how I live my life…

Anxiety and Depression

There have been a lot of recent articles and postings all over social media on the topics of depression and anxiety. There’s a wealth of knowledge out there but regardless of how much knowledge there is, no one will actually know how it feels unless they have it and suffer from it.

Most people reading this are probably like here it goes again… Another person talking about something that they can control, it’s just a state of mind. I suffer from both anxiety and depression, for years but, in my culture, I was told that I was bored or that it didn’t exist. I have a very supportive husband that pushed me to seek professional help. To the world, I seem to have a my shiznit together, aka my life together. In reality, I am putting on my mask and creating my happy persona or what people want to see.

No one want to know that you got issues, especially mental health ones. Why? That just means you are crazy and should be in the loony bin. I struggle with it all the time. I’ve been on medication and I try to avoid taking it; knowing that I need it. Always hoping that I made it up that it doesn’t exist. Instead, I live in my head talking to myself avoiding people and social interactions even with my own children and spouse.

I try to make myself go out and have people come over my house when all I want to do crawl into a hole and sleep for an infinite amount of time. Or cry until I have no more tears to cry for no reason at all.  Yet, I don’t do it. I make my life this routine service where a clock can be set and I try never to deviate from it. I get up in the morning, feed the babies, let them out of the cribs, play with them, shower, put them down for a nap, make lunch, feed them, etc.

Secretly, I want them to take a nap just so that I can go curl into myself and sleep to shut off the doubt and chaos in my mind. Instead, I pretend like everything is alright. I avoid going out with my service dog in training and I set my routines hoping no one will notice that I am damaged. I am broken… Being like this is not acceptable, especially for someone like me who has it all: multiple degrees, a career, a loving husband, children, a home, family…