Ash Thoreau

Well, today (Sunday) turned out to be kind of a terrible day to start working on goals. But here we are. I guess I’ll have to get used to not reaching all of them—that’s part of life, right?

Here’s what I had planned for this week alone:

So far, the only goal I’ve met is starting my scarf. I didn’t even get around to taking my medication.

The day started off normal. I got off work and went to bed. Since my husband had the day off, I actually got to sleep like a normal person. According to my Fitbit, I got about seven hours—that’s a huge win. I woke up, took a shower, and felt genuinely excited to spend the afternoon with my family.

But as soon as I got upstairs, my husband said, “See you in two hours,” laughed, and went back downstairs. At first, I thought he was joking, but after a few minutes, I started to wonder if he was serious. Meanwhile, my daughter was watching Spiderman on the main TV. I told her I needed a break from the noise and offered to move the show to her room. She got upset. Then I offered to play it on her tablet so she could stay in the living room, and that really upset her.

I just needed quiet. The sounds and songs were setting off my anxiety.

Long story short: I upset my daughter to the point where she lost her temper and yelled at me. Then I upset my husband when I asked if he was coming back upstairs. Things started to calm down when he returned, but then he asked me something that triggered me. It hit like a trauma response, and I couldn’t stop crying. Honestly, I feel like crying just thinking about it again. When he asked what was wrong, I couldn’t even find the words to explain. I just went downstairs and started getting ready for work. The only thing I could say was, “I’m not okay.”

That seemed to anger him all over again. He started slamming drawers in the kitchen. When I tried to talk to him about it, he refused—he was just too angry. So I left for work early without saying another word.

The truth is, I have no idea what was wrong with me. I don’t know why I got so upset. And it only made things worse that I felt like I didn’t have any support. Is it postpartum depression? Just my usual anxiety? Can you even get postpartum depression after a miscarriage? I wish I understood my brain. It feels so ridiculous to be this confused about your own feelings.

So, with all that being said, I didn’t make an eye appointment today. I didn’t take my medication. I didn’t do any recording. The only thing I managed to do on my list of goals was start my crochet scarf.

I’ll just have to move everything else to another day and hope I can get it done before the end of the week. I don’t want to mess with it while I’m out of town next week.