A year ago, I realized I had postpartum depression after telling my then 7-year-old that he needed to stop being such a pussy for crying. Since then, I have worked through my depression with the help of medication and working out and of course, writing every so often.
Fast forward to today and I find myself in a very dark place yet again. Not so dark as I’m going to call my son a pussy again (well, I might if he acts like it) but dark as in I have total and complete hate for my husband.
I went back to work this past Monday full-time after taking the past year off to stay at home with my daughter, the gorgeous baby girl that stole all my happy feelings and left me with postpartum depression. The decision to go back to work was not my own. I am perfectly happy staying at home being a mommy and napping when I feel like it. The decision was my husbands because his full-time job is dream job of owning our gym.
In January of this year (2017), I put my entire credit on the line to open a CrossFit gym maxing out pretty much any hope of me ever getting out of debt for the rest of my life. While the gym is gaining momentum slowly, we are not earning enough monthly to bring home a substantial income from it. For me, it’s sad because I want to be at home. For him, his fix is for me to work full-time giving up my freedom and happiness with the kids so he can continue living his dream. So, yea, I hate him. Literally, seethingly hate him. So, when he says, ‘why are you mad’, my answer is a glare or a finger or no response at all. Is this an adult way to handle it? Nope, but it makes me happier knowing he isn’t getting any satisfaction.
Let’s just say, until I am out of this dark place or he isn’t being a dictator making me work, he’s going to be living a sexless life unless it’s with his hand.