… instead of being at the hospital trying to get some much needed treatment, therapy, or god knows what. I’m sitting here writing in my blog hoping and praying that it helps me let out some of the feelings I feel. I’m freaking the fuck out. I’m at that point where you grab your head and start shaking it back and forth vigorously while saying “get out of my head. get out of my head. get out of my head.” I have all these thoughts in mind that I don’t know why they’re there or how they got there.

I feel like I have postpartum depression again. Where you so badly want to accept and love everything in your life, your children, your fiance, everything, and you just can’t. You look at all that you have and feel absolutely nothing. I feel absolutely nothing. I keep blinking my eyes and uncontrollable bouts of tears come out. I feel like shit. I feel like doing absolutely nothing. I just sit there and stare off in a distance thinking about just how badly I’m fucking up everyone’s lives. I zone out for what feels like hours.

Mike asked me last night what was wrong and all I could say is, “I’m depressed.” He can’t understand what or how I’m feeling. No one can.

I should be in the hospital. I know I should be. The fact that this depression is so severe that it’s scaring the living daylights out of me tells me I shouldn’t be sitting here I should be in some form of care.

Lynn, Mike’s Mom constantly talks about his aunt. She’s depressed or mental or something. She had cancer, and fought & beat it. .Ever since then she’s been addicted to pain killers and does a LOT of shit for attention. Anytime she’s in a different place she goes to Urgent Care for treatment. Everyone frowns upon everything she does. Mike’s Mom especially … This makes me feel as though if I go to the hospital she’ll do the same thing for me. She’ll go “Oh yea, Nikki got committed today. I mean, what does she think she’s doing? How could she do that to her kids and to Mike. Doesn’t she care anything about them? I mean, how can a mother not care?” This is why I don’t tell her anything. This is also the main reason why I haven’t gone in yet… I’m scared she’s going to look at me and judge me and feel as though I’m putting Mike through too much. I feel like its irresponsible of me to sit here and make Mike miss work because “I need help“.  I’m scared people are going to think of it as that I need attention.

I know, I know. STOP CARING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK.

I wish I could. I can’t make Mike miss work because I’m having a bad day. It’s not fair and quite frankly its selfish.

I don’t know what else to do. I’m freaking the fuck out. I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to feel like this. I want to look at my kids and feel love and overwhelming feelings of affection towards them. I feel nothing.

I had a friend say, “You really should love them more and spend more time with them. You don’t want them looking back and thinking that their mom didn’t care anything about them and did nothing with them.” FUCK YOU. Don’t you think I already think that on a daily basis? Don’t you think every single fucking day I wake up and say “I should spend more time with my kids. I should play with them and love them and give them affection they need. I should hug them and tell them I love them.” ITS NOT THAT FUCKING SIMPLE. If I could do that, I wouldn’t. I don’t know why and don’t understand why I can’t just fucking do it. I hate it. I hate myself for not being able to give my kids everything they need. I hate what i’m doing to them. I hate how I’m raising them. I want to be a good mom. I want to be a great mom. I want to wake up every morning and be grateful to have a family and a man that loves me. I want to feel grateful for ANYTHING but I don’t know how.

I just want help. I want to know what to do. I want to know how to fix this. I’ve been trying for years and its only getting worse.

I don’t know what to do. I need help. I’m SCREAMING out for help. I get nothing. If I were to mention to Mike when he is home that I should go to the hospital he goes, “Then fucking go.” … gee way to make me feel great. Yes, he said to go, so I should go. It means that its okay. No, it doesn’t… It makes me feel like he’s like “well whatever. if you feel you have to go. then go. but i don’t care regardless.” /

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