It's been a tough couple of days. Little moon-face gets easier to deal with every day (except on the bad days, which seems to happen about once a week) but we've just reached that point -I'm sure I had this with Owlie too - when I just miss being myself. I have absolutely no time for myself. To the point where I may never post this blog. Sometimes I'll sit down for a couple of minutes to write, and I'll do that for a few days running, but by the time I could actually post it, I don't care enough to finish it anymore or the content is no longer relevant.

It's severely wearing me out. People go on about how parenting is the hardest thing you'll ever do, and I don't buy that shit. I've done housekeeping man, I know there's harder work than parenting out there, less enjoyable and dirtier! But at the same time I recognize that I'm barely coping some days. Even when Selene is good, she's a lot of work. It's a delicate well-timed dance and one miss-step can leave one or both of us in tears. She likes to be held, standing, for hours at a time. And I'd prefer to do it than to endure the screaming that happens if I don't. But my body aches (ok, part of that was the hour and a half workout I did yesterday ) and my mind is... it's a mess. It's decaying from lack of use and sleep deprivation. There's the resentment and the violent urges.

She's teething, I'm trying to do this potty training thing with Owlie, and then it's an endless cycle of making food (that often is rejected) or offering boob (also often rejected. I remember having the "Eat or you will die!" stage with Isis too so this time I'm less worried and more annoyed) and changing arses, or clothes (usually mine, though I'm so used to smelling like puke I often wont bother, shame on me), timing things perfectly so I can leave the house... I take the ergo everywhere because Selene never gets through an outing in the pram, I always end up wearing her at some point. Some days I'm wearing her on my front, carrying Owlie and pushing the pram and I'm just like dear Lord let it end already! Then when they nap, if I'm awesome and get them down at the same time I have so much other shit I have to do that I don't end up with time to do the sanity saving things.

Right now I should be cooking, in fact, but the thought of getting up is making me teary. I want to write! (I did the other day, I got some editing done and it felt amazing. But then I fell so far behind in the housework I'm not sure it was worth it.) I'd like to play poi, or read a book, or have a shit without listening to someone crying at the door...

*** about a week later ***

That's still reliant. More or less.

The depression really has a hold on me now. I'm falling apart. I feel like I'm trapped in this cage made from my own mental illness. I'm isolated, alienated. Lonely as fuck. Obi's been sick. He tries to help, takes has given me about half an hour of baby free time three times this week, let me sleep in this morning (or rather, let me lay in bed and breastfeed rather than looking after both kids. Same difference). But there's other night where he's done nothing but complain and gone to bed early too. And I said to him that I'm sick too, but because I'm not physically ill I have to just soldier on. And he cares, and he hugs me and reads to me when he can, and I know he loves me and that it was a bitchface thing to point out. But it's how I feel.

I showed up on Bec's doorstep in tears this week. The kids weren't even being bad but I couldn't cope. I've reached out to people, my half sister, my aunt/ the girl's nan, even my father in law. I admit that I have a problem. I ask for help. But no help has really been forthcoming, and I just feel pathetic and selfish. My friend that lives nearby is doing her IVF this month and hasn't had time for so much as a coffee since before I moved... Bec needs to work. She already takes a morning off every week to help me take Isis to her classes, and she is always telling me how broke they are so I can't ask for more unless I really truly can't go without it.

I guess that's the thing, last time I had so much more help but this time I just have so much more to do. Alone.

All they do is remind me that it will get easier. Well I fucking know that, I've had a baby before remember? But like they say "the days are long and the years are short". Every day is a struggle. I don't need it to get better in a couple of months, I need help NOW. Real help, not empty platitudes.

I wrote today. I had an hour and I turned my back on the damned housework and I wrote. It was amazing. That's the good thing about depression I guess, it makes me write. And I'm doing the other things I know I need to do to beat this shit. I'm working out. Mostly so that some other bastard watches my kids for an hour and a half People are all "having a baby ruins your body" uhm, no it doesn't, a baby is the best motivator to go to the gym! I've brushed off my yoga mat, and though my practice is disjointed, short and badly off-form there's something there. I've meditated a couple of times too. I sit in the sun and walk my children. I cook healthy meals at the sacrifice of nap time. But it isn't working yet.

It's not all bad of course. There have been a lot of really sweet moments too. My bond with Selene is fantastic, and she's coming along in leaps and bounds. She's stronger than her sister was and incredibly sociable. Where Isis would push me away and want to be put down and left alone Selene likes to be held and cuddled. She laughs when you kiss her and smiles if you stop by to chat (whereas Isis used to cry.)
Isis makes me proud everyday and we have a lot of fun together. We're working on her confidence and I try to do something for her every day, be it going into the city to the aquarium or wildlife sanctuary or doing structured play at home.

Hopefully now that I've gotten it all out of my head I can start to get better again.