Not that anyone is surprised, but I'm already behind on my to-dos for this year. I'm trying to focus on the positive. Yes, last week was pretty much a wash, but I'm already getting back on track this week.
The truth is that fighting the spiral into full blown depression has really put a crimp in my schedule. Two weeks ago it occurred to me that rage might not be an appropriate response to a typically defiant three year old, and I've been having regular crying jags ever since. On the top of my to-do list at the moment is calling my physician so we can talk about upping my meds. I'm blogging instead. If you recall this incident, you may understand why I haven't gotten around to calling yet. But I'll be out of magic little pills altogether soon so I suppose it can't be avoided. Yes, yes, I should just find another doctor. Do you have any idea how much energy that will require? More than I have at the moment. I'll just lie to the jackass about breastfeeding, and I'm sure he won't even hesitate.
It's possible that I'm just finally feeling the effects of serious sleep deprivation. I asked Monkey Man on Saturday to take the first feeding of the night so I could sleep 5 or 6 hours straight. The idiot changed Cha-Cha's diaper before feeding him so the baby was screaming pissed off and then, because he didn't want to make him more angry, brought him to me. And then he didn't understand why my face was puffy Sunday morning when he got up at 7. Could have been the weeping I did from 5 until 7. And he didn't understand why I was so angry all day, or why waking me up from a nap to ask if he should make a bottle made me cry again.
All these jackasses in my life, no wonder I'm depressed.