The White Flag

While my last couple of posts have been upbeat, positivity-filled gush, I realize I have to raise the white flag, and surrender to the facts.

I am depressed.  I'm too deep to cope with it alone anymore.  I need help.

There, I've said it.  I need help.  Your help, a doctor's help, medication help.  My breaking point has been last night and today.  Since Ryan left for work it's been all I can do to make sure Logan doesn't hurt himself, gets fed and changed, and...  well, that's about it.

Every day has been harder and harder.  Chores piling up, my back and leg getting worse, my weight shooting through the roof, and as Logan grows and learns to be more mobile and independent, our basement suite seems to shrink.  Dealing with all this was okay at first, I could do it.  Then, I thought I could use a hand now and then, and I felt a little like a tool for asking for help.  So I'd mask it with "anyone want to come hold a baby?/have coffee?".  That grew into "anyone able to come give me a hand?", and became very frustrating, since everyone else has things they need to tend to in their own lives as well, and couldn't come when I needed help.  Really, I understand!  I just need some help...

And all the while, I kept thinking, "I should talk to Ryan, or my sister, or someone..." but I haven't had the guts to admit it even to myself, so how could I say anything to anyone else?  Logan has been on a very erratic sleep "schedule" lately, waking once, sometimes three or four times a night.  Last night, he went down around 8pm, woke at midnight, and wouldn't go back to sleep until about 2.  Then he was up again around 4.  He went back to sleep for a couple of hours, and we've been up ever since, and I've been crying since Ryan left for work.

I need some help.  Please.