there’s a term for it: antenatal depression.

I’ve been shifting.

I haven’t written since Thanksgiving because I’ve been spiraling like I’ve never spiraled before.

I’ve been depressed. Scary depressed sometimes, often times. I’ve felt entirely alone and totally terrified and for the first time I haven’t felt able to talk about these feelings because I can’t find one singular cause. I know I’m pregnant and changing and evolving and my hormones are raging fiercer than I’ve ever known, but that doesn’t make this spiral any less than it is. These thoughts and feelings are real, and valid, and shaky.

I feel angry at people for their platitudes to attempt to make me feel better because they don’t know how I feel. And I feel angry at myself for letting myself feel anger toward those who are genuinely caring for me.

While I used to share my thoughts and feelings with the world I now fear sharing with anyone other than a mother, because only mothers can understand and relate. I’m reaching out to strangers before family because for once it’s easier to talk to people I don’t know, who have no connection to my life, than those who know me because I’m scared of the advice friends and family might attempt to give that will only make me feel worse instead of better.

I am thankful for the few mother friends I have who also went through this because they have offered the kind of comfort I need. But it’s the in between times that are the worst. The hours spent at home alone. The lack of energy or desire to move from my bed but the requirement that I do for the sole purpose of surviving another winter in Taos.

I am pregnant during the busiest Holiday season my little Milestone Leather business has known, without an intern. I am working an office job and odd jobs because we have no money for maternity leave. I’m pregnant and working 12-14 hour days 7 days a week and just want to sleep. For the second time in my life I don’t care about Christmas (the other time being just after my dad died) and want January to hurry up and get here.

I’m upset at Jonathan, hurt by Jonathan, because he is never home. Because I never see him. And then I’m upset at myself for being upset at him. If he was home I still wouldn’t see him, would I? When I’m not at my office job or an odd job I live in my studio fulfilling Christmas orders. Jonathan comes home from work in the evenings and helps out tremendously by starting the fire, washing the dishes, and walking the dog. Then he leaves to go to friend’s houses and I’m alone in the house. It’s being alone that’s hard right now. I can’t ask him to stay home because why? I can’t even be with him. But I miss him. I miss knowing he’s out in the living room. Knowing he’s right there. It’s an energy thing. I miss feeling another human’s energy in the house even if we aren’t in the same room.

I feel out of control, lack, and that scares me because I’m human. I’m a human who needs control. Needs to know what’s around the corner, or at least have an idea. I don’t know how we’ll afford a roof over our head when my son is born in just 16 weeks. I don’t know where we’ll be living or working after my maternity leave is up. I don’t know how to fix the crack spreading across my wind shield or replace the engine temperature gauge that’s going out in the car. I don’t know how to pay our electric bill that is now 2 weeks late. Or the next one that is bound to be much higher because: winter.

Mostly I don’t know how to find joy. I had all these tricks and methods that would snap me out of my darkness within a day or two but none of those are working and I’m going on 4 weeks of feeling alone in a dark box without a way out. I’m thrilled about my son. There’s nothing I look forward to more than holding him in my arms that first time. But I keep feeling this weight of what happens after I push him out of me? The most life altering weeks of my life as I adjust to being a new mother, heal my body, lose sleep, and I won’t be able to pay the rent?

I used to be good at letting these worries and fears go and trust the universe to provide (because deep down I know it always does) but I can’t seem to let go anymore. For the sake of my sanity, peace, and life I need an answer now, not later. I need to know. I need to relax and enjoy this pregnancy but I can’t. My fear and sadness and loneliness is too daunting. I feel like I’m barely holding myself together while having to hold everything else together; the house, my business, my husband. I don’t have anything left over for myself and I’m dark inside and I don’t want to be.

I’m tired. I just want to sleep.

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