Tonight I decided that I am done. I am just so sick and tired of being unhappy and feeling like shit about myself.
– I am tired of being made to feel guilty for wanting to go out to the bar with my friends. I’m sure when we are older we will have wine tastings and game nights and whatever else old people do when they want to get away from the kidlets (don’t get me wrong though, I looove me some wine and game nights). But right now, my friends are all in the “bar” stage. We are all under 21 and still semi-amused by the entertainment that comes from getting drunk and dancing in a super crowded bar. I may be a mom, but I’m also 20 years old. It’s weird how much those two parts of me clash.
– I’ve been told that I should get more friends (re: my bar-star friends). Yeah, that’s much easier said than done. I go to my “teen mom group” and I’m one of the oldest. Most of the other girls are still living with their parents and are trying to get their high school degrees. The ones that are my age seem to be pretty bummy……smoking weed and cigarettes 24/7, with jackass boyfriends (or no boyfriends at all). Don’t get me wrong, they are nice girls, but I did a lot of maturing when I got pregnant, and I don’t think a lot of them are there yet. Therefore, we have literally nothing in common.
– Then at my regular “mom group”, I’m generally 5 – 15 years + younger than everyone else. They’re typically married. I can get along with older people, but they seem to be very far and in between. Basically I just can’t catch a break, I’m either too young or too old, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in my same stage of life. And if they are, they stay home…..or don’t go to mom groups.
– I complain about my weight and appearance all the time, but I have yet to fit working out into my schedule. That makes me feel like crap.
– I feel like an absolute failure as a housewife. I made a schedule, which seems to be kind of helping……but I still feel ashamed of myself. I want to be that stereotypical housewife…..the one who’s house is spotless 24/7, the baby is always taken care of, and supper is on the table for when the man comes home. But a bigger question might be if someone like that actually exists outside of TV and movies.
– I feel like I’m wasting all of Noah’s littleness on being sad and unhappy. Which then makes me feel guilty…..and then sad and unhappy.
– And I’m also still so bitter about everything that’s happened with Noah’s birth. I’ve been trying to get over it, but it’s so hard. I think that above all else makes me feel like a failure, even though it wasn’t anything that I did that caused it. And I can’t help but feel like that royally messed up any chance of me breastfeeding. Yes, I’ve given up. I was going to give myself until 5 months, but I just can’t. I fail. It’s just never going to happen. I put so much work into it, and we came so far…..but what started my problems is what ended it: supply. The kid eats 9 oz/feeding. My boobs produce about 2 oz (combined)/feeding. I feel so guilty that on top of everything else that he’s dealing with, I can’t give him the best stuff for him. I feel like every bottle I give him is poison. Which I know is silly. But I can’t help it, I feel that little pang of guilt every single time.
Basically, I feel like I’m on a giant, never-ending cycle of angry – sad – guilty. I’m so tired of it. I want to be happy again. 😦