Readers of a thousand years ago (okay, just over 6) will remember that after I gave birth to WonderGirl, I went through some serious post partum junk. I wouldn't just call it depression, because there were soooo many factors that went into it. One of the things that kept me holding on to life was blogging. People from all over the world -some of whom who I'd never met - sent me the sweetest comments and e.mails, letting me know I wasn't alone. I blogged through the pain, and eventually came out the other side.
Already this go around, I have gotten e.mails, posts, comments, even gifts from you guys and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for thinking of me. It has reminded me that I can't retreat into myself, as much as I want to - and I have to play through this. It's not going to be easy. But I've got my imaginary world out there where I have invisible hands holding me up and I'm going blog through this mess. It's the only way I'll survive.
So bearing that in mind, I'm sitting at an actual computer (I've been blogging from my phone for a while) and don't have to pick my words out as carefully. Let the therapy commence.
The whole my-skin-isn't-big-enough-for-this-engorgement phase is starting to pass. I'm starting to realize that I just can't escape what is happening. Every few minutes I have let-down and it feels like I'm being stabbed in the chest - and that's just physically. Emotionally I feel like everything is wrong and I need to get in the car and drive into oncoming traffic. And this will happen over and over and over for the next few months while I am trying to handle a 3 year old who is going through a massive life crisis, a 6 year old who is... well... a handful, and a newborn who gives me panic attacks because the lack of control I feel around babies gives me panic attacks, and somewhere in between all of this I'm trying to process what it means that my husband is a bishop. I'm really scared.
Oh - AND now I have bronchitis! I can't breathe and when I cough it feels like my lungs are trying to get out. I drove home from the doctor yesterday screaming and sobbing because I was alone and I just needed to get it out. I don't know how much more I can take.
I prayed so hard that this time I could skip this, but it doesn't appear that is happening. I do have my MIL staying longer than I've ever had help before, and the husband has been so sweet and patient. If I'm not going to have this taken from me, it helps that the people around me have been strengthened to help me up. In between those those moments where the light goes out of the world, I try to remind myself that even though it isn't the blessing I really want, at least I am being blessed.
And thank you to you. I love all of you :)