Today I learned that at this point in my life, depression most frequently stems from exhaustion. Not that there's really any reason for me to be exhausted, but you know, sometimes it happens.
We have been trying to teach Monkey #3 to sleep in his own bed. He never nurses during the day, except just before naptime, but at night he'll wake up several times, nurse 'til I make him quit, and then howl when I try to put him back in his own bed. It's crazy, and it's interfering with my sleep. I normally just get back in my own bed and let him nurse while I doze, so I have no idea how long he nurses. He just keeps going 'til I get uncomfortable enough to wake up. Well, we finally decided that we would all get a better night's sleep if we could just reconcile ourselves to being sleep-deprived for a few nights, and teach him to sleep in his own bed. I was assured by my midwife and my chiropractor (who offered their advice as friends and mothers, not professionally) that we'd have a few rotten nights, and then things would get a lot better.
Well. We had a few rotten nights, and then my MIL came to help paint my kitchen. My craft/guest room is a total disaster, and since my house, at that time (I say as though this is no longer true), was also a disaster, I had to make a choice. Clean house, or usable guest room. My mother-in-law slept on the sofa. In my own defense I would like to say, that I only intended her to do that for one night, but she said it was more comfortable than the air mattress in the guest room.
Which was fine, except that the sofa is in the Living Room. Both the Master Bedroom and the children's room open just off that, and I didn't think it was fair to send my poor mother-in-law home totally sleep-deprived when she came out just to do something nice for me. So the monkey spent most of that week sleeping in our bed almost all night. It was simpler for all concerned.
The problem is, that put us back at square one. You know how, if you're training a dog that he can't come in the kitchen, and every day for a week he is never allowed in, and then just once you let him in (probably to clean up a spill), it will be WEEKS before you can convince him he really isn't allowed in the kitchen? Yeah, that's what we are dealing with. He's become even more persistent, and rather than waking up two or three times a night, the last few nights it's been at least five times. I'm exhausted. My husband is exhausted. Monkey#3 is exhausted (but he still naps twice a day, so don't feel too sorry for him). (And yes, I tried cutting him back to one nap. That was miserable).
Which brings me back to my original point, which was that I have been feeling super depressed the last two or three days. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I had no energy, I was getting nothing done, and I felt like crying all the time. Rotten way to go through life. (Those of you who have already made the connection, cut me a little slack. Remember, my brain wasn't functioning at full power)
Today after church, I took a nap. I slept for about four hours. When I woke up, we built a fire in our new fire pit, the children showed me the fort they built with Daddy while I was passed out, we grilled burgers over the fire, and had a very pleasant evening. It was great.
When we sat down for dinner, I said "Wow, we had a really nice afternoon." My dear husband laughed at me and pointed out that I had missed most of it. I said "That's why we had such a nice afternoon."
At this point in my life, I'll take a nap over an anti-depressant, any day.