List of Symptoms...

Taken from the Postpartum Support International Website:

* Excessive worry or anxiety

Check! (I think we've covered this before!)

* Irritability or short temper

Check. This one is a huge bummer.

* Feeling overwhelmed, difficulty making decisions

Check. Do I want to be alone? Do I want to be with people? Eat now or later? Not to mention problems at the grocery store.

* Sad mood, feelings of guilt, phobias

Check. I think that if I didn't have all the guilt, everything else would be a lot easier to deal with.

* Hopelessness

This is up and down. I definitely FEEL hopeless a lot, but I'm learning to look beyond what I feel. Although at times hopelessness has me curled up in a ball.

* Sleep problems (often the woman cannot sleep or sleeps too much), fatigue

Definitely fatigue. If I could, I would sleep forever.

* Physical symptoms or complaints without apparent physical cause

Um. No. My toe hurts, though. Just kidding.

* Discomfort around the baby or a lack of feeling toward the baby

This is hard to pinpoint. There is definitely no lack of feeling. But with Leaf, like with the others, I worry that I will lose him. I worry that it is out of my control and that I won't be able to keep him safe.

* Loss of focus and concentration (may miss appointments, for example)

Check. They hate me at our doctor's office. Well, no, they don't, but it's because they're gracious people, AND because I feed my kids broccoli and no cheese puffs, and if you feed your kids broccoli, they love you, apparently. Ever since I told them about the giant bowls of broccoli I feed the kids on occasion, they've been slipping me twenties on the way out. Seriously.

* Loss of interest or pleasure, decreased libido


* Changes in appetite; significant weight loss or gain

Check. I eat a lot, especially before bed, when sadness can set in, although it doesn't necessarily make me gain weight. I would think of it more as the kinds of things I eat, though. When I'm sad or need to escape I crave the junkiest foods ever. When I'm doing well I am good to my body and I feed myself things that will do something other than give me heart attacks in my later years.

What is the point of all of this, you may ask? Wellll... I don't know.

But, like I've written before, I really don't like myself like this. And I wish it could translate, over the lines; what a lame person I become. Seriously, writing is my best voice. When I'm depressed I can't even get a full sentence out without apologizing. I can't make decisions, I'm worried about annoying my husband, and all my blame issues come spilling forth like a shook-up Sprite. Not only that, I end up being more tired and anxious around my kids than I would like.

I really wanted to be Super-Mom. I guess I'm not. And I'm starting to think that the Super-Mom myth has us all duped. I'm not sure that I've ever seen her. But if I did see her, I bet that she would be a bright-eyed extrovert with armloads of vim and vigor. She would also know tons of children's songs and all the actions that go along with them, and repetition would be the name of her game.

Have you seen her?