Numbness in Pandemic Times

I am in a sea of depression right now. I’ve been venting here and there on Facebook, but I fear too many negative posts will put a bad taste in the mouths of those who read it. I don’t want people to label me as a complainer or think I’m negative all the time. All this negativity is temporary, I hope.

My baby turns one very soon and has slept through the night maybe twice. He gets up at least twice a night and for a while there it was three times. I am exhausted. Add to that at least 4-6 months of having to pee/insomnia/restless leg syndrome when I was pregnant. My brain is mush. Often times, I’m so tired I feel drunk. At nine months old he switched to one wakeup and I felt like I was getting my life back. When he abruptly went back to two-three wakeups is when I felt like I was losing myself.

I am struggling to be a good parent to my 4-year-old. I don’t have the energy (or imagination) to play. I barely have it in me to take a shower. Having to figure out meals every week feels so monumental of a task that I’ve almost stopped trying. Scheduling life and errands around naptime sucks, but again… temporary.

Then there’s Fitz. All of the animals in this house drive me crazy, but Fitz is amazing. Picking up toys and meowing when his favorite person leaves the room. Playing with the dog. Sleeping on his back around two children, completely oblivious that he could be stepped on. Sitting next to my husband every night while we play video games. Running up to whoever has a fleece blanket on the couch. Greeting every stranger in our house, no fear. And he’s dying of cancer. After two months of thinking it was only an URI or a polyp. He’s only nine. I guess this is hitting me so hard because it was “just a cold” and I’ve never lost an animal so young. We have the option of spending $10,000 to give him a shot at 2+ more years. We both agreed that that’s an insane amount of money and are choosing not to spend it. But in the back of my mind, I know it’s something we could afford if we had to. It kills me to sentence him to death because I don’t want to spend that. All the times in his life we’ve joked that we should’ve bought pet insurance… My God, we really should’ve. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation if we had. I’m so sorry, buddy. I truly am.

So many times over this past year I’ve wished that I had someone to vent or cry to other than my husband. He’s wonderful but I hate unloading on him all the time. Even just a sibling or a parent would be helpful. My parents are in their own world, adding two new puppies to their household after continuously bitching about they couldn’t wait to be done with animals once Abbie died. I can’t be mad at them for wanting to fill their lives with whatever makes them happy. But I can be upset that their grandchildren are seemingly just something to visit here and there. I can also choose to not visit because their house is chaos. Because my baby can’t roam around three untrained chihuahuas and my daughter is afraid of them. At least my dad has asked about Fitz. Not my mom. Maybe she doesn’t want to bring up something sad. But I wish she would. I guess I don’t ask about her dogs. I can’t bring myself to care about them after such a rash decision to get them. Maybe it’ll get better once they’re out of the puppy stage. Idk.

I don’t know how it got to be this way. The only family member I’ve ever felt truly close to was my grandma, but she has dementia. I feel so alone in this world. No true friends other than my husband. Who is wonderful. But if something ever happens to him, I’m screwed.

Again, surely this is temporary. My daughter is starting school and surely I’ll make at least some mom acquaintances. Maybe a friend. And I have my online gaming friends. But they’re all (mostly) dudes so I can’t exactly be sad and vulnerable to them without it being weird.

Well, reading this back is depressing. At least I got it out. Maybe I can move on from it and wait for better days to come. I know they’re coming. After we lose Fitz. Then we’ll heal. I’m sorry, buddy.