anxiety

Hello Depression. 1, 2, 3, down they go.

posted on 01/30/2012 by Jenni Chiu 37 Comments

The clock struck midnight and we didn’t even know it.

A new year was starting as we stood, teary-eyed and paralyzed.

He said he would leave me if I didn’t get help.

For a moment, I didn’t care either way.

***

The darkness had become too much.

The anxiety…

The rage…

I blamed him.

I blamed my family.

The family that needed more than I had.

I blamed a traumatic birth.

I blamed being split in two.

I blamed circumstance.

I blamed my baby…

The baby that needed to be held 20 hours a day.

The baby that screamed endlessly.

The baby that made me cry…

made me scream…

made me smile…

made me ill with life.

I blamed myself.

***

The word “depression” was hard to find…

clouded by actual, real life hardships.

“It’s not me. Anyone would think this all sucked.”

Was it my outlook or was it all the crap life was throwing at me?

Did it matter?

***

It all felt wrong.

I didn’t belong here.

I took a wrong turn.

These thoughts were unwanted.

This life was not mine.

***

I felt myself failing.

Failing at the public “happy face”.

Failing as a wife.

Failing as a mother.

Failing to live.

I was too exhausted to tread water.

***

And now…

1, 2, 3, down they go…

Every day they travel to my brain.

The black and grey are slowly lifting…

I breathe…

and I fight.

I fight.

I fight every day…

the feeling of not having been good enough on my own.

posted in Life, No funny today tagged with anxiety, colic, depression, motherhood, postpartum anxiety, postpartum depression, PPD 37 Comments

I cut the crust off.

posted on 01/06/2012 by Jenni Chiu 14 Comments

He doesn’t know what Star Wars is, but he’s over the moon for his lunch box.

It was his first day at a new school – a montessori pre-school. We’ve made sacrifices so he could go to this school. He deserves this school.

It was my first time making a lunch for him to bring. I sleepily made an organic peanut butter and raspberry preserve sandwich. He’s never been a sandwich eater, but I cut the crust off. I cut the crust off because that’s what good moms do. Kids don’t like crust, right?

But what if he wants the crust? What if he doesn’t eat the sandwich at all? What if he goes hungry? What if the crust is the most nutritious part of the bread, and I’m cheating my son out of essential nutrients?

And suddenly everything felt foreign.

I paused.

I wondered how I got to this particular place?

I wondered how I lost myself in the crust…

And I felt resentful.

I missed my career.

I missed having a moment of peace now and then.

I missed taking a daily shower.

I missed being witty, and vivacious.

I missed my body.

I missed doing things for myself.

Then I packed his lunch and took him to the school that I wish I could go back in time for and attend myself.

He did wonderfully.

The teacher said he took to the montessori structure immediately.

He said it was a “most wonderful sandwich”.

I squeezed him, and wiped a tear away with my thumb.

At this moment, I sit here writing this in the late hours of the evening. The house is asleep, and as exhausted as I am, I’ve chosen to stay up after a 3 am breast feeding session and stroke the keys…

Because I miss you.

Because I miss me.

My dinner is still sitting in my belly, as it was eaten after everyone had gone to bed. It was cold and made hours before, but a fussy baby demanded my attention for hours on end.

Today was my son’s second day at school. He asked if he was going to have a sandwich again, and jumped up and down when I aid yes.

I had a day of attempting to “work from home”, and have a meeting while my second born pooped out the side of his diaper and on to my shirt . I had a day of mostly nursing, bouncing, and swaying. I had a day that passed in a daze.

I look back on it now, and wonder again how I got here.

I wonder if I will always be here.

But mostly, I wonder why during my brief moment of nourishment today…

Why I made myself a sandwich…

and why I cut the crust off.

I love the crust.

posted in Featured, Life, No funny today tagged with anxiety, Bam Bam, colic, motherhood, parenting, PPD, preschool, What the hell am I doing? 14 Comments

I left my baby in the car. Also, I might have an aneurysm.

posted on 12/02/2011 by Jenni Chiu 39 Comments

I looked into the backseat and heard silence coming from the car seat.

My colicky baby had been sleeping soundly for the past ten minutes – a welcome reprieve from the high pitch wails of when he is awake.

I glanced again into the backseat.

I look ahead at the ATM fifteen feet in front of me.

*Look at the backseat.*

*Look at the ATM.*

Then I did it – I darted out of my car, and ran to the bank while pushing the lock button on my keychain.

I immediately flashed to all the news clips I’ve ever seen about parents leaving their kids in the car for a minute or two.

I swiped my card. I looked back at the car.

I entered my pin number. I looked back at the car.

Why couldn’t I just have brought the car seat with me? Why couldn’t I have just dealt with the wailing? Would it have been so bad to be “that mom” again – the one with the harried look and the babe whose wails echo throughout the bank kiosk?

I tried to push my crinkly check into the effing temper-mental slot, while my breathing started to quicken.

I pushed some buttons. I looked back at the car.

What if someone tried to break into my car and steal it? Would I be fast enough to run the fifteen feet and hurl myself into them?

I looked back at the car.

What if my baby was over heating in the two minutes that I stood at the machine that WOULDN’T TAKE MY STUPID CHECK? It was 64 degrees out, after all.

I whispered “fuck you” to the ATM… and it finally swallowed up my check.

I looked back at the car.

I grabbed my receipt.

I started to pleasantly jog (so people wouldn’t think I was nuts) back toward the car.

Then I dropped my bank card.

As I bent to pick it up, I thought…

What if I have an aneurysm that I didn’t know about? What if bending over at this moment causes it to burst, and I fall down dead on the sidewalk? No one would know that my baby was in the car. NO ONE WOULD KNOW! He’s going to be hungry in about twenty minutes. The ambulance probably wouldn’t even be here by then to scoop my body up. Who would feed him?

NO
ONE
WOULD
KNOW!

Just as I was about to announce to the one person walking by that my baby was in the car, and should be taken care of if I die – I tripped on absolutely nothing and stumbled all the way into my own car door.

With both hands pressed against the window, I saw my sweet sleeping baby. He looked so peaceful… and quiet… so beautifully quiet. I stared at him for a second or two before I realized that the sun was streaming in right on his delicate face. What if the left side of his face was completely burned? I hopped in the car and high tailed it home before I could do anymore damage to my infant.

***

Going to the bank should not be this stressful, should it?

If you’re a parent, have you ever left your child in the car for a second or two?

The good news is, I probably don’t have an aneurysm…

Or it just hasn’t burst…

yet…

I’m going to stay away from the bank, just to be sure.

posted in Featured, Life tagged with anxiety, children left in cars, dangerous banks, motherhood, parenting 39 Comments

Voices Of The Year – That time I said stuff in front of lots of people.

posted on 08/30/2011 by Jenni Chiu 16 Comments

I made it to the little meeting room exactly one minute late. I had tried my best to actually be early – but my swollen, pregnant feet would only carry me across the convention center so fast, and my squished bladder needed to be emptied once along the way. I walked in and saw several ladies gathered around a round table. Some were chatting, a couple were going over their printouts of what they were going to read. I sat down next to the one person I knew from the day before. There were quite a few nervous statements about feeling anxious. I smiled… and nodded in agreement… and breathed….

I’m sure I forgot to introduce myself to every single person there.

I thought to myself, “Cheese – I’ll eat some cheese” as I started to make my way over to the side table to see if there was any. I found none, and we were told it was time to go backstage.

So everyone stood…

and we walked…

to our seats backstage…

the fifteen of us…

the BlogHer ’11 Voices of the Year.

I was second to last, but I got so caught up in watching and listening to the other amazing bloggers that the waiting was less excruciating than I thought it would be. I was fine… until right before I was to go on.

The woman before me, Bon Stewart, read an achingly beautiful piece. But when a quarter of the way through we learn of her newborn not making it… I found myself clutching my belly. I cried for the life she carried that was lost, and I whispered to the one growing in me.

Then panic set in. This was poor planning! Why send the pregnant mess of a lady out in front of hundreds of people right after she hears the heart and soul of a mother who has lost her baby? How am I supposed to go out there as the humor blogger and make people laugh? I couldn’t even see through the blurry hotness of my eyeballs.

I started thinking to myself, “What the hell am I doing here at all?” ”I should be holed up in my house like I have been for the past three years.” ”Is this one of those fucking dreams again?”

Then the curtains parted, and I walked out and stood by the stairs to go up on stage. I realized this wasn’t a dream, and as my introduction was ending, and I climbed the stairs… I peed a little. I was pregnant. I was prepared for that.

I walked up to that podium…

I took a deep breath…

and all of a sudden…

I felt home.

In a millisecond my past life came back to me. The life of performing in front of thousands of people. The life of applause. The life before tragedy and trauma changed the very chemical makeup of my brain. The life when I felt shiny.

It was just a reading. There was no two hours of dialogue to learn. There was no tricky choreography. Just me… reading something I wrote… that other people thought was kinda funny…

It was the best.

I’m realizing that speaking in front of hundreds of people feels good to me. It’s the small group settings and one on ones that will have me popping Xanax, but you know – baby steps.

PS- You can watch the whole event and other amazing speakers here:

http://www.blogher.com/announcing-blogher-11-voices-year-video

posted in Life tagged with anxiety, blogher '11, pregnancy, public speaking, Voices of the Year 16 Comments