The Fish Pond: Broken

Yesterday morning was a bad, bad morning for me. Despite the good feelings left over from the weekend, I didn't tolerate things well yesterday when I needed to get all four kids up and out the door and all four kids were resistant to that. I had to drop the big kids at the bus, drop Sunny off at preschool the next town over, and go to my therapy appointment clear across town in the opposite direction, by 9:30. We are not morning people, but for whatever reason it was an order of magnitude worse than usual.

I tried being nice and waking the kids up nicely, which they did, but it all went to hell in the proverbial handbasket in about five and a half minutes. The kids refused to get dressed when I asked them to the first time, when I asked them to the second thru fifth times, when I shouted at them to get dressed, when I attempted to redirect them away from the baby to the tasks they were all each responsible for doing themselves. They all wanted to get in bed and snuggle with Daddy, who has extreme sleep issues and couldn't get up himself.

To make a very long, private, complicated story very very short, I yelled a lot. I thought no more so than usual, but apparently BigDaddyFish thought so and, thanks to our wonderful communicating status, it upset him worse than usual. He called me long after I had gotten the kids out of the house, before I dropped Sunny off, to tell me his feelings about what had happened and ask me to discuss it with my therapist.

BigDaddyFish is a Big Picture kind of guy. That's how he sees things, that's what he focuses on. I, on the other hand, am a Details kinda girl. There was a big misunderstanding. He said something in a way that didn't really communicate what he wanted, I misunderstood it too and overreacted, and it left us both frustrated and angry. I felt blindsided by the conversation, since I had thought I wasn't any worse than usual. It threatened to escalate, but I thought we both did a good job of keeping things civil, if tense, and I talked to my therapist about it. That added in more misunderstanding.

All day long after that, I had a vaguely unsettled feeling, like something was lurking around the corner just waiting to come and get me, and I couldn't figure out why. Several times I caught myself on the verge of tears without any clear reason why. I knew things were going Bad, but I really really didn't have a clue why, and I was scared. Real scared. I tried to talk to BigDaddyFish about it when he came home, but he was still pissed off about the morning and things escalated.

Another long long story short, I lost my temper and put my foot through the drywall. Twice. It was either that or punch BigDaddyFish in the nose.

BDF and I are both stubborn, passionate, strong-willed people. Both oldest children. Neither of us backs down, or backs off, easily. Putting my foot through the drywall terrified me. The degree of rage scared the crap out of me. I fought hard to maintain some small semblence of control for the rest of the night so that BDF and I could talk about this. We finally were able to very early this morning, and again later. We were finally able to uncover some of the misunderstandings, to find some place in our psyches to process things, to talk and identify issues and causes and possible solutions. We both want very very much to get back to where we were just a couple of days ago.

Why the heck am I telling you this? One, if you or your partner is struggling with postpartum depression, I want you to know you are not alone. If you feel at all "unsettled" or vaguely off, please please do whatever you need to do to take care of yourself or to get the help you need to stave it off before it explodes like I did. I didn't eat right, sleep well, get virtually any exercise, or do self-nurturing things yesterday. I'm sure it was a factor. If I had mentioned the out of sortsness to my therapist, maybe we could have come up with a plan for the day to help me make sure I would be best able to maximize my own chances at not exploding. If your partner is at all out of sorts, please try and be aware that they may not be aware of what they are doing, and GENTLY bring it to their attention, without blame. I know what a pain in the ass it can be, and sometimes it can feel like you are dealing with a child or someone trying to manipulate you and make your life miserable. Some people are like that, but most, like me, desperately want to get better and not be that way, not be overly sensitive to criticism, not be prone to frustration, not be on the verge of tears - they don't mean to cause problems, and they regret everything to a degree I hope you never ever have cause to understand. Try anyway. Their life may just depend on it. Two, I hope someone can benefit from the shared experience - I know it helps me when things are at my worst to know that I'm not as abnormal and screwed up as I feel. Three, I hope that by being public with my struggles with this disease, it will help erase the stigma of mental illness, of postpartum depression, which will hopefully one day make it easier for women to ask for and receive treatment.

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Unfortunately I woke up Trout when I put my foot through the wall. I talked to her frankly and honestly about what is going on with me, to the best of my ability, on a level that she could understand. No details, just Big Picture. I explained that sometimes the chemicals in the brain start working wrong, and when that happens sometimes people are sad a lot and don't really know how to handle stress. I explained that when someone's brain is like that, they sometimes can't figure out how to handle problems, and what is really something quite small seems very very big to them. I told her how very very much I love her, her and her brothers and sister, how they are the most important things in my life and how I am trying my hardest to get well. I explained that the doctor I've been seeing every week is helping me talk about things and work through them. I told her I was not angry at her, reassured her that is wasn't her fault at all and really had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me. I told her she could ask me or Daddy anything at all about it if she had questions. I asked her if she did, and she asked me how I was going to fix the drywall. Maybe she needs details, like me.

This morning, I woke BigDaddyFish up first, instead of the kids. We talked a lot. When Trout's alarm went off, she got up immediately of her own accord, instead of staying in bed for 45 minutes until we can't possibly make the bus without much shouting and scurrying, like she usually does. She got dressed and came downstairs to get her breakfast. BDF and I continued to talk. We heard a scurrying rustling in our room, and I got up to see who else had gotten up. It was Trout. She had made me a smiley face breakfast, with 2 oreos for eyes, a Little Debbie Fudge Round for a nose, and a handful of cheerios for a mouth.

Then she went back downstairs and made "breakfast" along the same lines for everyone else in the family.

I do not deserve such a creature.

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Is there any way to channel Trout's ideas my way? I would love for one of my kids (or anyone else for that matter) to make me breakfast. That is too sweet!

Posted by: Shannon | October 18, 2007 at 12:19 PM