Warnings
1) This gets dark in some areas. I tried to not use very obvious terms. If you can’t handle that for your mental safety please don’t read. Please. I want to give the full story.
2) This is probably very long. I over explain myself as a result of family history
3) Dyslexia, Depression, Sleep deprivation, and being sick probably doesn’t make my writing skills very pretty.

First off I will explain our house. Not their real initials.

(J) is for baby girl
(S) is for me when others use my name
(P) is for babies daddy
(M) is for my friend

M is married to P. She has a very serious illness that could kill her between now, and 20 years from now when she’s 50 (part of her side of the story). P has a depressive personality when left alone, and would likely end it all if she was to die. She told him he had to get a girlfriend she approved of, (essentially her next in line for getting married), so when the time came he wouldn’t be alone. P and I worked together for a while and I needed somewhere closer to work with a ride to stay at for a week (no transportation), so I stayed with them. Me and her became very good friends almost instantly. A few months later she asked if I would have a baby for her and P. I agreed. (Later I found out she didn’t have any viable eggs, and the kid would have to be biologically mine.)

Sometime later me and him became romantic, which was her plan mind you. We kinda became a house of 3. Me pretty much a second wife. On New years, we decided to have a bit of crown, and forgot protection. February a little + sign was on the end of a rod.

So the entire time we were looking up legal stuff of having a three person home with a baby, psychological differences in being raised in such a house and so on. While planning out how to operate as 3 parents. I also got a therapist incase I got PPD. With my history of normal depression, bad relationship with my abusive parents, and lack of family communication/ friends outside of home. I am extremely high risk.

Time comes to have baby, everything is fine. A few problems pop up during the hospital stay that leave me unable to breastfeeding without crying in pain for a week in total, even with all the tricks, and medicated ointment (probably would have been longer without.) This is where my PPD began. It’s pain, combined with rejection, and a feeling of uselessness. (What good am I as a mother if I can’t even fees my own child.) I had to cave and do what I didn’t want to. Fall back on formula till I healed up and caught up. (Side note almost 6 weeks pp, I’ve caught up, and am overproducing. Might donate it to moms going through problems like mine if it continues.)

Over the next few weeks things become rougher in other areas, and at a point I got put on a “self harm” watch. Now I couldn’t be alone with baby for extended periods of time. If P had to go to the hospital to see M when she went in, so did J and I. Which is risky in its own right. Also my therapy got bumped up to twice a week, and P was told to hide drugs and sharp things from me.

So on Halloween J spent the whole day upset, and I stopped eating. (One of my depression cues) so I had M take her for a little. She wanted to be mom too, was a mom to me. Turns out she has been feeling disconnected from baby and only sees herself as a babysitter. Or only wanting to be.

She vented to P, who told me. She doesn’t want to help me, and only wants to do the fun stuff. Doesn’t even wanna change a poopy diaper every once and a while. She’s tired of me “passing” J off to her, and “S is her mother not me.” So on. She brought up how I beat around the bush and it makes her livid. (Which P and I have already talked about. P is the only one in the house who doesn’t do it; however, I was the only one in the house who was programmed to as a survival instinct from my parents. I could never be open about anything.)
P told her to remember how I was raised, and she said “I know, and I understand that but! Someone has to pull the rug out from under her.” P tried to remind her these thing can take decades to a life time. Didn’t get through.. he said she of all people should understand and know about that.

Now all of us in the house have depression of some sort. Hers is mostly because of her illness as well as one or two things she does not talk about, his is largely stress induced, mine is genetic, learned neural pathways a decade old, hormonal, and situational.
Big difference is I’m actively working on it, for all to see. I know I have problems and I’m trying to fix them.

Anyways... I started snowballing from feeling like I was no longer welcome, and having my fears/guilt of asking too much confirmed, right into that I don’t have anywhere to go... so “I feel like I may as well just.. just... P, give me another option please!” so he took the night off work and took me on a drive to vent. Mostly it was feelings of confusion over why she even asked me to have a kid, when she basically wanted nothing to do with it. Why was she accusing me of beating around the bush, when she didn’t talk to me about any of this? Am I really asking for too much? I don’t know what else to do when I start thinking dangerous thoughts... why does she feel like, think she is, or want to be just the babysitter? She’s like my sister, I thought I could lean on her. I’ve made it clear she’s mom too. Also if she doesn’t want to be mom why is she trying to make mom decisions? She’s being very hypocritical... and making me so confused...

My doc, and therapist recommend medication, but I’m scared to now because if she can’t handle this, what if the meds make me a zombie for a week until I’m weaned off them? I don’t trust her to support me even though she says she will. Also if she can’t physically do it as well, then where are we? What are we gonna do? I’m just so worried that in my attempt to make things better it’s gonna get so much worse. She doesn’t seem to care or support my attempts to get better. It’s like she expects them to disappear on their own, right now.

So the next day she went and got suck up presents as I call them, since the next day she was still saying those things when she thought I was asleep. I even slept close to baby so if I was needed I could be gotten... trying to take a little pressure off her. Next morning she said if she told me what she thought then I’d ether cry or be very angry.. That sounds like an asshole thing to say to me... maybe I deserve it though..

I don’t feel I’m doing something wrong really, and my friends from out of state say I’m not... we are all biased. Mean she has depression too, and is ill (been on the up an up though.. best she’s been in 3 years.) maybe it’s clear to you guys... But with where I am right now I’m not sure of anything... felt like I was asking a lot before all this.... I’m really second guessing myself.