Thursday, May 31, 2007

Desperate Days

I remember not feeling this way. I remember looking forward to my days. The days when I showered regularly, when I cared enough to shave my legs before going out in public. The days when I went out in public for more than groceries. I remember wanting to spend time with my son instead of sitting him in front of the TV and hoping he doesn't get bored too quickly. I remember those days, but I can't remember how long ago it was, how many of these desperate days have piled up with me barely noticing.

Is it just the fatigue of pregnancy or an amplified effect of hormonal imbalance? Will I shake this off or will it just get worse unless I expose my baby to even higher levels of chemical antidepressants? How will I be able to decide when I'm paralyzed standing in front of the pantry, unable to work out what I want to eat?

I have discovered the secret to motivating myself to clean - sit down to write. A sentence starts to bubble up in my mind, and suddenly the toilets, overdue by weeks for cleaning, must be scrubbed. Now.

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