Sleep Deprived and Depressed

I am depressed.

The sort that comes from sleep deprivation.

It starts when baby won’t go to sleep before 11:00pm, so there’s no going to bed early. Then his 5 and 6-hour stretches of straight sleep are broken. Then the 3-hour stretch that follows his nightly snack is broken.

It comes without warning and lasts for days. Sometimes weeks.

I handle it okay at first. I function--I take care of everyone, even clean here and there. Get dinner kinda going before hubby gets home. Leave the house occasionally. Take 3-hour naps on the weekends when we’re not out and about. But all too quickly, what energy I have left slips away. My body begs for a long stretch of deep sleep, or maybe even sleeping all day in the manner of Rip Van Winkle until full rest has seeped into every inch of my bones.

But it doesn’t happen. Too much crying baby at night, too much juggling of three kids during the day to take a good nap. I even have neighbors and family who help when they can, and if baby complies, I do get a nap. Naps mean I can eat dinner without falling asleep.

Yet night comes again and the need is still there. Pushing myself out of bed the first couple times is hard enough, and each time after that is impossible. My hubby even helps later in the mornings when he can.

Still the struggle, every night, until my transformation into a zombie is complete.

And you know, zombies can’t do much. I’ve been one now for many days. The house needs dusting, vacuuming, sweeping. The kitchen floor is covered in sticky spots. My husband has cooked our meals for a long time. He’s done the bulk of the dishes. He’s done the last few loads of laundry. He’s put the girls to bed night after night. He’s freakin’ amazing.

And what have I done? I kill bugs that snuck inside the house. I pull weeds in 90 degree heat while the kids play in the shade because we don’t get out of bed before 10:00. What hurts is that there’s so much I want to do. I want to sing and dance with the girls. I want to help them learn and grow. I want to clean. I want to exercise. I want to leave the house and play at parks and play-places and the library and everywhere. I’m home all day with the kids--it feels like I have all the time in the world to do what I want.

Except sleep.

This barrier in my life is an invisible one. I go from tending need to need to need to need, pulled down by a weight of exhaustion. I can barely get myself to eat on some days, but I do--that I must do. I’ve been in this boat before, and I sank into a new world of being underweight. It took a long time to recover from that ding on my health.

I never wish for my kids to go away. It’s just that I start to break down, ignoring the simplest tasks beyond feeding and cleaning my little ones. I get short with them. I live on the couch. Soon I want to escape it all for just a little while, and go where there are no needs to tend, not even my own. I feel like a failure and I want my old self back and I want to cry and cry.

I am depressed.

But I push through. The love for my family never erodes. My little ones still love me, my 3-year-old forgives me. And I thank my lucky stars that I know, beyond a doubt, that this kind of depression will pass, because someday my baby will sleep again.

All I can do is prepare for that day when I really wake up. (Prepare mentally anyway, while I’m laying on the couch eating and drinking from play-food the kids bring me to keep me alive.) When I’m not a zombie anymore, and I have energy again, I will exercise and play and live again.

They've got the right idea...