three little letters.

P.P.D.

Yeah.
I know.

It's not for sure (as in, I haven't gone to a doctor and gotten an official diagnosis), but there's a good chance.

It's like a fog in my head. I can't remember the words I wanted to say, or even what it was that I wanted to say about them. Sometimes I forget what it is that I've said a mere five minutes after I said it. The other day I was writing a letter and couldn't remember what month it was. Then I had to say all of the months out loud, and I couldn't remember what came after February. Finally I realized it was March, and I was so frustrated that my brain just couldn't seem to keep up.

I have no energy to do anything. No mental energy to engage in something that is unnecessary. That is why all of my inboxes are full of unanswered emails, why I keep missing writing deadlines, why I haven't written anything on this blog for days, and why I haven't finished a book in months.

There's this great analogy that I heard once: Imagine that you start out the day with six spoons. You have to use two spoons to wake up, get the baby dressed, fed, and occupied. Then you have to use another spoon to put the laundry away and make yourself lunch. Getting out with the baby and doing a grocery run is another two spoons. After that, you've got one spoon left to make dinner, start another load of laundry, feed, bathe and put baby to sleep, finish work, and then get yourself ready for bed. You have to plan out your day so that you don't do too much in one area and leave yourself empty-handed and trying to finish your day.
That is how I feel. I have to focus, focus, focus on the absolute necessities and drop everything else.

There is more, so much more, but those two things are at the forefront of everything I'm trying to deal with right now.

I've had this post rolling around in my head for so long, but every time I'd sit down to write it, I'd feel so exhausted and I just couldn't make myself put the words down. There were more elegant and coherent phrases in my head, but they flit away at the earliest opportunity, and I am left with this.

I'm hunkering down for now. I'm burrowing in to my family--being a wife, being a mom. That's all I can do right now. Dreams of writing and grandeur have been put on hold, because frankly, I'm useless until I get some sleep. (Sleep. The connotations of that word...my child doesn't know what it means. And before you tell me to let him cry, or let him sleep in my bed, rest assured that I have done everything and he remains as steadfast as ever that waking up a few times in the middle of the night is necessary. I'm just trying to live with the damage right now.) I'm not reading any more blogs about "attachment parenting" or the harmful chemicals in this mattress, or the dangers of letting your child cry, or why he needs to eat organic food and how processed food is going to kill us eventually. I don't want any more opinions, advice, or lectures about how to parent--I am on information overload and I can't take it anymore.

My brain has quit when I need it the most, again, and there's nothing I can do but hang out and wait for it to show back up.

I'll let you know when it happens.