Last night, I told my husband I wanted to die, because I can’t keep feeling like this.
There was no catastrophic lead-up. No bad day precursors. No fights, nothing. I just felt empty all day. Like there’s a hole inside me that can’t be filled, no matter what I do. And trust me, I’ve tried: sex, alcohol, food, shopping.
Well-meaning people in my life keep giving me suggestions: sit by the water, take a bath, create an exercise routine, establish a routine. Try these vitamins, get more vitamin D, walk 30 minutes a day. Have you considered changing your diet? Your meds?
And I’ve tried those all too. Taken vitamins, done oils, taken prescription meds, seen a counselor. Reached out to friends, worked out, checked my thyroid, my meds.
It doesn’t help.
The ache, the emptiness, the loneliness, they sit on my chest, in my stomach like long lost friends–like they belong there. Maybe they do, because God knows nothing I do makes them go away.
I don’t have plans to take my life, or hurt myself in any way. But I don’t want to live like this. Sad, empty, lost. I don’t want my husband to continue to bear the burden of carrying our relationship, our home on his broad shoulders, because I can’t. I don’t want my boys to think they’ve caused this sadness in their mother. I don’t feel like I’m loving any of them the way they need to be loved.
I don’t know what I need, but I need something to give. Something to change.
I feel like there are still more bad days than good days. And at 15 months postpartum, it’s hard to place blame on the PPD at this point.
What if this is it. What if this is what my life looks like for the next fifty years? Is it really worth it? At what point does my husband look at me and decide he’s had enough. Enough of the tears, or the taking care of everything, of a wife that goes to be at 7:30. When will he see that this isn’t the life that he signed up for either.
I wouldn’t blame him. That’s what makes it hard. I don’t know if situations were reversed if I’d be the kind of spouse he is: compassionate, patient, steady. And that’s just another piece to the anger I feel about the whole situation.
I wish I had something positive to say here. An ending that reminded us all that tomorrow is another day, that it all gets better. God knows I want to believe that, but I just don’t think that I do today.
Maybe tomorrow I will.