Letter Grades...Tuesday, September 30, 2008 at 11:07pm

Holy tears Batman!! Where the FUCK did those come from?? Well.. let's see.. it allll started with my little meltdown after hearing I didn't get the position I interviewed for.. would have been perfect.. well no, that's not true, but there would have been perfect things about it. The plan was going to be, Jay will go to work, I'll love, cuddle, nurture and nourish Abby during the day, then drive to work, Jay would then finish his work day and catch the bus and meet me, I'd take his pass, he'd take the babe and the car.. and switch we would young Jedi... this would leave us both completely and utterly exhausted but would also bring us back into the black financially and we'd have Abby with one of us.. which is what we've planned on doing... We'd never see each other-- but at this point, that might be a blessing. I really don't think Jay signed up to move from his home, his friends, family and even country to live with a certifiable crazy woman... correct me if I'm wrong though. Okay, so we're at the bad news, which let's face it, isn't entirely bad. My supervisor is super accomodating and had so many positive thigns to say about me and also has some things in mind which sound good to me... so.. I get that news.. and am about 30 seconds away from walking into my PPD support group.. and into the arms of women with bigger problems than me. At this point I'm trying not to blubber.. trying desperately to walk into the room like I do every Monday morning with my make up on, my coffee in hand and a semi smile on my face... my faker mask. The "I'm doing okay" Amy.. which honestly, lasts usually about 30 seconds into my turn to talk before I sputter verbal diarreha on everyone there. Surprising coming from someone who appears so "put together". I get the looks.. the "are you okay?" looks. The "oh my God what's wrong looks" the "I wish I could make it all better looks" which are hard to take. In a room full of caring women I broke down... and cried, and cried and blubbered and spewed... and for a few seconds I felt better, validated, unselfish, and real. The faker Amy was gone, washed away with my mascara... even my eyeliner. ugh. I think I used half a box of tissues muttering nonsense about a time machine and how I feel like I'm a giant monster to my husband and a neglectful momma to Abby... helpful suggestions were thrown my way and instantly dismissed as I admitted that I have no strength to even try right now. My focus at this poiint, sadly, is purely survival. Someone described the feeling of this kind of depresion as wearing a lead vest, you know the kind you wear at the dentist when you get your teeth x-rayed (my memory may be out of date now, it's been 10 years since I've been to the dentist, I'm terrified of them, and yes I know people I should really fucking go but I think I have enough on my plate right now so lay off). Anyway, remember the weight of that lead vest? My body feels like that.. my head, my heart, even my little soul. I feel trapped and smothered and isolated by my own misery.. and I can't put my finger on what the hell is wrong with me?! I'm on day three of crying, so that's it right.. this shit travels in three's? That must be it.. I'll wake up tomorrow and not want to throw myself into traffic.. at the intersection I live at I'd just have to lay in the crosswalk.. people NEVER stop.. it's a sure thing.. the one sure thing in my life right now.. no no all joking aside I'm not going to throw myself into traffic.. I could not even stand to plan one more thing. I was recently informed I don't have to be a super housewife.. and I know that statement is true, it makes sense.. we're dealing with a lot over here at Chez Mazzone, I wouldn't expect any friend of mine to strive for perfection the way I do, knowing she was feeling the way I feel... why do I expect myself to be perfect?? And trust me friends... Mrs. Cleaver does NOT live in my messy house.. a teeny meany baby who's into everything does.. and a depressed Momma who waits 4 days to fold laundry does.. and a Daddy who works 6 days a week and is completely miserable does... oh.. and the Cat.. he's happy enough if we just leave him some food. I can't remember who I was talking to... Maybe my Mom.. when I simply said, if I can't do it well.. I just don't want to do it. Failing at anything is my biggest fear.. check my surveys people.. it's there under Biggest Fear: Failure and the dentist... sometimes I switch the dentish to spiders I hate those little fuckers too. Anyway.. I'm rambling.. so tired and eyes so dry from tears (hmmm you scholars is that almost an oxymoron?) I just feel like I'm failing.. not pulling a C or even a D, just plain failing. And you can all say, no no Amy you're a good mom you're doing a good job.. and yes, you're right on some level I know that. I can recognize that Abby is seriously the smartest, most adorable babies I've ever met *her baby buddies are also the cutest.. dont worry milfies you know I love those little guys/girls!" but you know.. she's fallen off her growth curve, off the charts actually and she's a teeny little weiner who has been pooing white for three days.. and no that's not entirely my fault.. but I had to give my fucking head a shake, and literally wipe her puke from my hair, and take the focus off my piitiful mood and onto her to get her to the dr... she's fine by the way, apparently I need to add BUTTER to everything she eats.. gross... and she'll see a pediatrician for her poop issues.. but you know.. I just felt so inept to care for her.. focusing on myself and my irrational tears. Then there's my husband.. who I finally after MUCH MUCH MUCH prying, pleading I finally got him to talk to me.. and I hated what I heard. Hated it.. could barely handle it... I have enough guilt without being reminded of why I feel guilty (am I Catholic? No.. just a woman.) He told me he feels like I don't appreciate him, like I don't realize all he's given up to be here.. like if anything goes wrong he's stuck in a country where he doesn't really have any friends.. I knew all that.. to hear it, was good for him to say it, but it tore the last artery to my heart out. So I cried some more. Talk about mixed messages much! I sobbed actually.. again.. some more. The truth is I realize all of that.. I feel guilty every single second I want to spend time alone.. by myself with my own thoughts or even just my own friends.. I feel terrible leaving him at home.. but the bigger truth is that seems to be all that is helping me right now.. some alone time. I feel responsible for his misery.. for him being here.. but really we make our own choices.. or at least we should. I cannot be the boss of my family. I'm no Anthony Soprano. I can't bear the burden of anyone else's misery.. but I do.. is that my new job as a wife and a mother?! If it is.. I think I'm going to fail at it. Miserably. I can barely bare the burden of my own self pity.. I can't even pee by myself people.. I don't want the responsibility of logistically planning the Mazoone family's every move. I feel like that should be a group effort. Right now I feel more like just a mother to two than a wife to one.. It's a challenge... and I know there's effort going on.. it's not perfect effort.. and I need to accept that I am only allowed to expect that from myself... This little note is all over the map... I'm typing with my fuzzy pink housecoat and furry warm bunny slippers, squinty eyes, dry behind dirty glasses.. mmmm.. sexy. OKay, I don't have bunny slippers but Im totally in the market for a pair, complete my crazy house wife look... hey some people dig that look... right??? The short story after all these rambles is.. I used to own my feelings, my choices and my thoughts.. and now I don't know who or what does. I don't know what drives them.. I don't know where the sadness comes from, when as Jay pointed out to me, things could be much worse.. why can't I be that person who used to be able to find the sliver lining.. instead now, even on the sunniest day, I feel like i'm dragging around a dark ass rain cloud... I think things and wonder... is that ME, AMY thinking that.. or is it stress/exhaustion/depression etc... everything at this moment is so uncertain.. it's becomming scarily unbearable... and so is the squinting I'm doing... and also the fact that I've already seen the episode of Frasier that's currently on.. what is wrong with me.. I'm watching Frasier! And I've already seen this one.. where is that crosswalk??