Post Job Depression

I'm beginning week three as a stay at home mom. And I think my awful violent job was the only thing keeping me from full blown depression. Or maybe just noticing it.

Right now my kids are in the tub playing. They've been lovely all day, especially since I have absolutely no interest in doing anything with them. Or talking to them. And I find them to be the reason I'm not able to be productive. Being productive is the only thing that feels good to me. And I was very productive at my job. And now I do endless cycles of dishes and laundry and I haven't left my house since Friday.

I feel stagnant. And I knew this would happen when I quit. I worked in a room downtown that nobody else came in, with absolute freedom. Alone time, productivity, making my own hours. And good money. The price was feeling like a sleeze bag all the time, but nothing is perfect.

And I'm frustrated because I didn't really want a second kid. I wanted to be pregnant again, because I loved it. I was talked into the second kid, and while he is lovely, he is the reason I can't take a lower paying job, because with his childcare I can't afford it. And I resent the hell out of him right now. Especially since, on top of being a barrier to my goals, he has absolutely no patience or understanding of "I can't make you a sandwich while scream at me, because I'm dealing with you instead of making your fucking sandwich."

I knew this would happen. I felt panicky 20 minutes after my I left on my last day. I feel like I rushed it, that I let my emotions make a decision. Even though I consulted everyone, and discussed it with my therapist for weeks, and all the people I use as sounding boards were unanimous, I feel like I fucked everything up all over again.

I hate not working. I hate dishes. I hate having less income, and feeling like our financial goals have been ham stringed. I can't stop thinking about the lost income, as I prepare our budget for this month and this year, and what felt like doable goals and getting places we wanted to go, now feels eons away and impossible.

I hope tomorrow will be better. Both kids go back to school (Andrew is going one day a week, thank goodness), so I have lunch with a friend and a spin class. And tomorrow night I have a meeting with a woman who may need some extra help. Someone else reached out to me for my resume, but I haven't heard anything. I emailed the two companies I freelanced for recently to let them know I'm available for more projects.

And now I have to meal plan for this week and go clean up from dinner like a good little drudge.