the stench of depression.

It's not often it seeps in any more, but when it does it consumes every fiber of my being. 

The sadness, the blah-ness, the aggravating stench that is depression. 

I'm not sure what's done it this time.
The snow?

The sickly baby?

The 3 nights in a row with no sleep?

Its probably all of the above. 

My sweet child clings to me for comfort. The only time she can sleep easy is when she's cuddled in my arms, nursing sometimes but keeping the nipple in her mouth just to soothe herself. She needs to be this close because teething, diarrhea, vomiting, fevers and diaper rash are rocking her little world. 

I sit and stare. There's not much else I can do with her so firmly planted on my lap. I mindlessly click through channels, never finding a single show that interest me. She wiggles. I cuddle her. 

Don't wake up. 

This feeling is aching in my chest and all I want to do is cry. My stomach is nauseated and my head aches. Its been quite a while since I've felt the black hole's edge, slowly pulling me in. I didn't miss it at all.

So, I take deep breaths. I pet Baby E's head and kiss her cheek. Reminding myself that she is my everything. She keeps me happy. She lights up my life. 

Because if I don't focus on her, I focus on everything negative. That's what this ugly stench of depression does. I stew on money problems and living situations. I let my blood boil at the slightest hint of someone saying the 'wrong thing'. I go over what if's and could have's over and over and over. Just to slam back down into this chair at the end of the spiraling vortex that is this illness. 

It's hard to breathe...

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. 

I can't help but think the mounds of snow accumulated outside are inducing this. Their presence on the roads, negating my ability to get out, has left me breathless. I'm trapped. I can't risk my life when the little one depends on me. If she would even let me leave, she needs me that bad at this point. 

I make a feeble attempt to reach out to the ladies I talk to daily. They're usually up to discussing whatever is ailing everyone that day. My attempt is greeted with a "sad face" then a change of topic. 

Eh.
I don't need people today anyways. 

Baby E awakes. I swiftly carry her upstairs looking for a task to distract me. Something, anything to occupy my energy. I'm realizing now that the heart palpitations I've felt all week were probably not caused by caffeine, but rather a bubble of anxiety and depression working it's way back up again. 

I get Baby E into her baking soda bath, hoping it calms down her hideous diaper rash. She is so happy in the water. Her smile lights up the room. I wonder if she likes the water so much because I spent about 16 hours of my labor in a birthing pool...

Once she's set, I tend to the bathroom a bit. If I keep my hands busy maybe I can get rid of this extra energy. Don't worry, she's in her baby bathtub & she's right in front of my cleaning area. I carefully watch her too. 

Once we're both spent, I get her out and carefully wrap her in a big towel. Baby E snuggles up against me and we go to her room. We sit down in her floor and I can't help but smile, finally.

This baby who has had a worse couple days then me is still smiling. She's absolutely ecstatic to be released into the bedroom wearing nothing but her birthday suit. So for me, that is definitely something to smile about.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

The stench of depression will find it's way back in, I'm sure. It always does. Luckily my best weapon is a little girl that stays by my side.