Kadiera's Playground Cute but Evil - it averages out

Go read this. Seriously. Because it totally covers a lot of things that have gone on with me in the last year or so

Interestingly, I've been in therapy for a year now.

Things are definitely better than when I started, but there's still enough to deal with that the insurance shouldn't complain about continuing to pay, tho I have gone to every other week instead of weekly.

We had a good laugh about my answers to the evaluation form she had to fill out tonight, because "client needs coping skills because people are fucking crazy" isn't a professional response, and yet it covered everything she eventually put on the sheet as to reasons I need to continue therapy. Especially since, at least once a week I manage to tell her something from my past that horrifies her.

You know what?

It's been a stressful year.

There are some things in life that are not worth stressing over. The dishes come to mind immediately - I'm pretty good about not stressing about getting the dishes done.

There are other things that I'm not so good about not stressing about, and I'm going to need to work on that.

This week's thing to not stress about: breastmilk.

Alex is not going to starve - there's formula when there's not enough milk. It is not the end of the world if him getting more formula means I get more sleep and am less preoccupied with trying to fit in more and more pumping to try to keep up.

This post is rather self-centered; if that's a problem skip on to something else :-)

*****

I am feeling somewhat better. Not perfect, and there really aren't *good* days yet, but there are a hell of a lot fewer bad days.

Therapy is...odd. I think she's still trying to grasp the insanity that is my life, and all the things that play into why I am the way I am, and how screwed up things could be in my head, and the fact that they're not nearly that bad. Things we've agreed on so far include that my dad is who he is, and while he's hurtful, it's not really on purpose, because he's more broken than I am. And that friends are important.

I'm having a rough week. I'm sure some portion of the rest of this post can be attributed to stress, depression, and the like. But it is what's in my head, spilled out here in an attempt to stop obsessing over some of this. So y'all can just cope.

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In case I haven't mentioned it, the NICU is damn depressing. And I'm pretty well tied to it and the breast pump - have been for three months now, and will continue to be for the foreseeable future.

Most of our friends and family avoid going to visit Alexander with us - and I can only assume it's so they don't have to face the NICU, because it's not like Alex is all that scary. And to some extent that's really hard for me. I'd rather have the company when we're there to take my mind off things.

I've been rather thinky again here of late. I've got most of a post written on the nature of gift giving, and the interesting things I noticed about the gifts we got for Alexander.

But tonight I'm being selfish. This post is mostly about me.

The question I get asked most often these days is, "how's the baby?" which is followed in frequency by "is the baby home yet?" And the reactions I get to my answers frequently suggest that the person asking didn't actually want to know the answer, they were just asking to be polite.

A few people have said, "if you need anything, let me know." But the truth, as I explained to one friend, is that I often don't know what we need - that's too complex a question.

I know I'm behind on this sort of thing. I really need to get with the program now that I'm actually capable of writing again. Writing is theraputic, and I need that.

*****

It's been a rough week. Things are better without zoloft, other than the depression. It's not like I felt *good* on zoloft, emotionally speaking, so it's not a huge loss to get rid of it, but it does mean I'm more likely to be sniffly, particularly when I'm tired, which is pretty much all the time.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not required to grin and bear it through anything and everything where Alexander is concerned.

I'm allowed to have bad days now and then.

I'm allowed to be upset when Alexander has a bad day.

I'm allowed to be upset when some new realization strikes, like, "if Alex had been born now instead of 10 weeks ago, he'd be full term and likely would have come home with us"

I'm allowed to feel rather melancholy when surrounded by very pregnant women, because it makes me think, "that should be me right now"

Well, I know for sure now why I've been extra moody and sniffly this week - my period started this morning.

and all I can say is, WTF?

This may be the first time in 20 years that this has worked as scheduled without drugs. They told me on discharge to expect a period in 4-10 weeks, that breastfeeding (or pumping) can make it more towards the later end of that, and if I didn't have a period by then to talk to my OB. Yesterday was 4 weeks since Alexander's birth.

I dunno. There are other things that seem to have been reset by this experience, like my blood sugar. So I guess we'll see how many of them stick.

The last couple days have been kinda rough, emotionally speaking. I know it's the hormones and the stress of this week; doesn't make it any easier.

Today's exercise: 40 minutes of hiking through the parking lot, looking for a car that wasn't where it belonged. The good news is that I can now say I've driven a police car. Besides the hose-out-plastic interior...it's like trying to put a jet on a house and fly it. Lots of power...but it drives like a brick.

Tomorrow I'm off to visit a supplier to review their process; Friday we're heading to Notacon, and Monday we have the day off to catch up on work stuff.