Overwhelmed

As many of you noticed I went private. There was no good reason for it, I was in a bad mood and when I read something that offended me and I was like "Way hey, goodbye blog!" I had hit the delete button and when it came up with the are you sure question I just couldn't do it.

This blog is almost 3 years of memories of my life, of my children and of William. This blog has provided me with insights into other people's lives. I have met wonderful women who have become friends because of this blog. So no, I could not delete all those posts and all those comments that have made me laugh, or helped me out through difficult times.

But my bad moods? They have been getting to me. I have been depressed for a long time, and have not taken meds for it. December was a hard month, but I thought it was just the stress of Christmas and whatnot. January was sort of okay but February hit me in the face and knocked me on my ass. It went out nicely though, with a lovely bloggers breakfast/lunch. I seriously think you people that do blogher should say screw it this summer and just come up to Edmonton. We are fun. Jut let me know first so I can buy your pass to Klondike Days when they are cheap. Of course you have to go to K days. Or the Capital Ex as it is now known. I don't care if you hate rides, you still have to go. It's a touristy thing.

So February was hard. Liam's birthday was on a Friday. Do you know when he got his cake? Not on Friday. We picked one up on Saturday. He did get his gifts on the actual day (a Nintedo DS and a game), I'm not that shitty a mother yet, but still...to forget to get a cake! I would say that I was sick that week (I really was) but that's a pretty poor excuse.

I have been miserable with everyone. Sophie does this screaming thing that drives me up the wall and I find myself screaming back "SOPHIE! STOP SCREAMING!!!" Saoirse, who previously could do no wrong, cries so easily and that frustrates the bejesus out of me. Liam is Liam, ignores me half the time and forgets what I said 3 seconds later the other half. And then there is Taylor. Oh, Taylor. Poor, ignored Taylor. Her words, not mine. Taylor, who was asked to simply pick the garbage up off of her floor this past weekend, and everyday since, and who still has not done it. Taylor, who asked for a sleepover party this weekend and couldn't understand why I said no. Taylor, who stomped her way up the stairs screaming that she was ignored and unloved and slammed her door. Taylor, who officially got her period last night (the time I mentioned before was not the real thing) and who told me that she is suffering from PMS and so I better leave her alone. But hey, she may be ignored but at least she got a "congratulations on becoming a woman" cake. I remember reading that in a book, when I was preteen, and hoping my mother would do the same. She did not.

I finally went to the doctor for a physical. I wanted to talk about my weight, which I think is a huge cause of my depression, and also the cause of my future role as heart attack patient. So my weight is high but we didn't really get a chance to talk about it. We talked about my depression first. I had to fill out paperwork to see if I might be bipolar. I wondered about that because, while I definitely do have the extreme lows, I do not have the highs. I'm either okay, or down. There is no extreme happy. Even when I am happy, it is always tinged with sadness. My kids do something funny and I laugh but tear up at the same time. Sometimes I think "What the fuck are we doing to these kids?" There are so many things I want for them, that we just financially can not give to them. I want to give myself to them, but emotionally? I am not there at all. Taylor is right to say she is ignored. The things my kids say go in one ear and out the other. They ask for money for school, I don't want to deal with it right then and there, so I can get pissy with them and then I forget about it later on. I wouldn't want to be my child right now.

As I've looked up information about bipolar disorders on the internet (seriously, what did we do before the advent of the world wide web?) I've discovered that the manic part of manic depression does not necessarily mean you experience extreme highs, it can also mean irritabilty and anger. Which is me. Along with the crying at the drop of the hat. I have always been super senstive and easy to cry (so, no, I don't question where Saoirse gets that particular trait from) but lately it is everything. I bawled like a baby when I saw the picure of these three little girls who died in a fire in Hamilton. I cried at the provincial election results which will bring the Progressive Conservatives into 40+ years of power in Albeta. I cried for every grey haired candidate who lost. Well, okay, only the Liberals and New Democrats. And mostly, for Ray Martin who I have loved since I was 14 and became politically aware. I could care less if an older Tory lost. Not that very bloody many of the buggers did at all! They won 72 of 83 seats. If you've seen me around on facebook, it is true I am currently throwing up a little in my mouth. Just thinking about it makes me sick.

When I normally read of children dying it does make me very sad. It makes me tear up. It does not normally make me bawl into my bowl of vanilla mini wheats. The PCs winning their 11th stright majority in 37 years normally would just piss me off to no end, and having me screaming at the TV and loudly cursing all those Tory voters (some of whom I am even friends with!) but not crying. And I did cry last night, I was so frustrated by it all.

I have become unable to handle anything that is out of the ordinary. I can hardly get out of bed in the morning, and I have a hard time falling asleep. When I am up I get very little done. I sort of fitter from job to job, never actually completing anything. I am a wreck at work and dread going in. I guess that means I can't handle the ordinary either.

So we talked about all of this. How miserable I am, how often I am crying. She asked if I was suicidal. I said no, because I am not. I have 4 children after all and what would happen to them? But I did not say to her that I often wonder what would happen if I died. I wonder it because some fucker in a speeding truck almost hit me the other week, not because I am suicidal but I definitely think about death more than I should. She wants to see me once all of my blood work is done and we will discuss meds then. She then did my physical exam- eyes, ears, neck- told me I have a goitre- I thought "yea! a possible reason for the weight gain"- breasts, tummy and finally the lovely pap smear. After, she told me she wants me to go for an ultrasound of my thyroid and if it comes back showing a lump I will have to go for a biopsy. So not what I expected. I expected to be told I was too fat, I expected to be told that yes, it does seem I am depressed. I did not expect to go into the doctors office on a Saturday morning and come out with a possible cyst or worse on my thyroid and a possiblity of being bipolar.

Right now, it all sort of leaves me with a situation where I don't know what to do with the blog. I feel like I need this outlet, but I don't know where to find the energy to blog. I feel guilty that I am missing out on reading so many of the blogs I love and I feel guilty that I have not mailed out any of the stuff that is sitting in my cupboard waiting to be mailed. I just can't get to it, you know? And when I stay away from the blogs I can pretend I don't have reading or mailing to do. Sometimes I think if I just stay away long enough I will stop missing you all and wondering what is going on it your life. But I doubt it.

So I think I am going to start blogging a lot less, and try not to feel guilty that I can't read every single blog every day or even every week. I can't spend 4 or 5 hours a day reading blogs, as much as I often would love to. I think I need to put what energy I have into my family.

I'm not going to take the blog private again, but I don't think I will be around much for now. I'm always on facebook though!



*This post is way more scattered and makes much less sense than the post that was originally in my head.