I do love my children. And I don’t think I’m depressed exactly. But the absolute relentlessness of it is really starting to get me down, with no real end in sight, every minute someone demanding something, even when it’s calm any second it won’t be. All the little things I took for granted are impossible most of the time.
I don’t want to sound like I’m blaming them, it isn’t their fault, they are lovely but I’m worn down and worn out. I regularly have these moments where the next decade at least feels like a prison sentence and I feel so so low about it I can hardly bear it. Other people don’t seem to feel this way at all.