I am still in this body, fighting to regain the majority. But this sadness - this indescribable darkness crashes over me when I least suspect it. This is Brazil-strength PPD. I'm having these horrible flashbacks and I am still in awe that I survived that year.
Do I have another year of this? Less? More? My MIL told me her mantra today and I think I'll be borrowing it for the next while.
I. Can. Choose.
The battle is exhausting, but I still have a little power in me. And with that, I will choose to look ahead. It's really discouraging that I have to look so far away - to a date I don't know - but someday, I'll be better, have 16 arms and think to myself "I've GOT this." I don't know when, but I know it'll be sweet.