I've decided to hold off on that post for now. But I'll get to it in the coming weeks, because this one was a doozie.
I'd had a rough couple of days, and it was only getting worse. Paul knew, my mom knew. I didn't want them to know, but someone had to know. It was obvious to Paul, and my mom knows everything. I woke up a couple mornings after my spiral began, and I knew I needed some back up. A couple people who would be willing to give up a day to listen to me cry and scream and say 'I give up' and send me inspirational thoughts and ideas, and pray for me. My mom is great for this, but I needed these to be people who knew the non-family member side of me. The ones who I could say words like 'Shit' to (or worse) as much as I wanted, and it would be welcomed and even encouraged.
I was still in bed, mad that the sun had in fact come up, and that I had to face the day, when I sent a group text to these two.
Kate (top) Mara (bottom)
It's been just over two weeks since my 'crash'. I'm finally starting to feel myself again. Though, I don't really know what 'myself' feels like. I won't say I see the light at the end of the tunnel, because I don't want to 'get' to the end of something, or be somewhere different necessarily, I'm just wanting where I am to be a little brighter. My depression and the postpartum hormone roller coaster have not been easy on me. I remind myself often that life has changed a lot over the past three years. Not to mention that it hasn't even been a year since my body finished making two people at super-human speed. I'm doing ok.
Thanks for reading.