Last week was a bad week for me, mentally. My state of mind was unexplainable.
I couldn't tell if I was going through a mental breakdown or if I was just miserably unhappy.
Lets define "happiness", Its the state of being happy. "Happy" is feeling or showing contentment/pleasure. How could i be happy if i'm not content.
I should be feeling wonderful and blessed. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy who will be 9months on the 28th. and here I am. typing this ungrateful post.
Its not that I don't love my little family. I think I'm overwhelmed and under-stimulated. All i do is sit at home, I clean the house and look after my son. I watch him try and master the art of getting up and crawling to the next object on the floor. I see the excitement in his eyes when completing the task and then repeating it.
I used to be someone with a routine. a Woman with a plan. I had an OCD way of planning my daily activities. I worked full time and on my weekends I would explore the beautiful city of London.
But knowing I would be giving birth we decided to come home.. I objected as much as I possibly could as I knew what the outcome would be. I'm miserable. I'm unhappy.
The feeling of regret subsided after I gave birth to my son, but here it is. Creeping back into my head. Filling it up With misery. At the end of the day, I know where i'm supposed to be.
I've become someone with no deadline. Someone with no importance. I get up at 10am. husband left work already. Feed my son, solids then breast milk. Play with him. He takes a nap while I fix up some breakfast. The day goes into this monotonous routine which involves eating, sleeping and teaching my son something new. And everyday I think to myself "why didn't I shower?" Husband gets home from work tired and miserable. I look a mess wearing my PJs I had on from the beginning of the day.
All this boring-ness leads to binge eating. Me looking for comfort in oily fries and fatty burgers. Asking my husband to buy it for me when he gets home so I can eat it while laying in bed, rewarding myself for getting through this shitty day.
Weekend involve brainstorming of ideas for the days activities but end in us doing nothing because, Just because. I hate going out. I haven't lost my baby fat yet. I tried. But being miserable drains all the left over energy from my body. And feeling fat results into being self conscious in myself, which results in me being miserable again.
I hate being at home but i Hate going out as well... There's no win to this situation.
But i will come out of it. I type this while wearing my tracksuit pants, knotty hair from last week and toe sandals. not forgetting my baggy T-shirt that does not match anything.
