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I am most definitively a morning person. Getting up early isn’t easy but a new day brings new possibilities, opportunities to be productive, successful and make the most of my life. It is absent the filth of yesterday, whether it be eating too much junk food, succumbing to laziness, or having too many glasses of wine.

Today, I’m better than yesterday. My morning routine of coffee with early work, cleaning up the kitchen, getting Jacob ready and heading to the gym all line up in comfortable design (assuming Jacob didn’t get up a lot in the night that is!) And each day, I think today will be the day that I don’t feel the weight of depression on my soul when the evening comes.

Everyday, around 5 or 6pm, I’m wrong again. I don’t feel like I suffer from real depression. I have had depression before and I know how that feels 24-7. This is like circumstantial depression. The work day is coming to a close and here I am again, another night the same as before. I make dinner, play with Jacob, wash bottles, watch TV, hang out with Rick. I really have nothing to complain about. I feel guilty for feel depressed because I’m so damn lucky.

I constantly think about the people I know an prayed for this past year who lost their babies. Three families come to mind. Three families lost their babies after birth — and these are just the ones I know of. There are plenty of people I know — I’m sure — who had miscarriages this year. And I’m depressed? They would give anything to have what I have — and I know it.

My heart us FULL whenever I’m with Jacob. But sometimes, I still feel inexplicably sad. The feelings are powerful. I’m quick to grab the wine or the extra ice cream or be cranky with my husband — and I don’t like it that I am. It makes me feel like a failure, as well as making it harder to sleep and less optimal that I could the next day. But I hit that moment where I can barely hold out and then I cave.

I’ve always had this evening anxiety thing but it feels like it’s gotten worse lately. My therapist says there could be many contributing factors — like the fact that I work from home and don’t get enough change of scenery or that many moms with young babies, I don’t go many places at night because my kid goes to bed. Since I don’t go to an office, I get very little social interaction — something that is really important to me. (I do go to workout class 3x/week and stroller running group on Wednesdays).

I guess sometimes I feel lonely, something I’ve seen other moms sharing about this week. Unlike me, my husband doesn’t need or crave lots of interaction with others. He’s an introvert’s introvert, happy to stay home. A cocktail party would be his version of a nightmare and my version of a great time. It can be difficult when parent partners (or just partners!) have such different ideas of fun and relaxation — especially with kids. It’s harder to make myself do what I know I need to do to feel happy, whole and fulfilled. It can feel guilt-ridden, selfish and lonely.

My therapist also reminded me, though that it’s normal to feel this way. It’s normal to not be enthralled playing with a baby for hours at a time. I mean, I love him to pieces but it’s sometimes harder than you would think to get through three hours to bedtime. Hard in a stupid way, I guess, but hard nonetheless. I wouldn’t trade those gummy smiles and belly laughs for ANYTHING. It doesn’t mean everything constantly feels rosy. See, I feel bad even admitting that.

Anyway, I get depression in the evening. It’s hard. Sometimes I deal with it in self-destructive ways. Does anyone else understand that darkness that descends in the evening? It makes me feel crazy and guilty and out of control of my own life. I guess it’s always been like this in some way but now it’s just harder because I am responsible for someone other than myself.

What am I doing about it? Praying, for starters. Tonight I’m starting a new small group with church. I’m planning a trip to visit a friend out of state. I’m putting a half-marathon on my goal list for the year. I’m getting back into MOPs (every other week).

Working from home full time and staying home with Jacob part time (makes for two tough jobs at once!) makes daytime activities with other moms really hard so that’s a struggle — and he goes to bed at like 6:30 so evening activities are pretty much out. However, I’m going to be intentional about getting out. I’m having a hard time accepting that I need that. I feel like I shouldn’t “need” something like this to be happy. Kind of feels like maybe it’s fake happy. But I’m probably wrong.

Anyway guys, that was a ramble of a post. Just thought I would share in case anyone else could relate.

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