I thought I was out. In the field, surrounded by daisies and dancing with unicorns in the sunshine. The deep, dark woods behind me.
The fog had cleared.
I was magically (note the lack of ‘k’, I did nothing spell-wise to help myself…) all better.
It just happened.
But I learned this past weekend that I’m not quite there yet.
The thought of not going to a scheduled event with my kids brought on panic. But I’m a working mom…I can’t choose between time with my kids and time enjoying myself. They always intertwine. They are my joy. They are my everything.
Which led to
I am nobody. I have no identity. I am the mom. That’s it. I begin and end with my little ones.
Which led to
I know I’ll get through this…it’s just that I have to work. And if I have to work, then I have to have enough milk to go to work. And if I go out without Witchling, then we have to tap into the supply for work. And I’m not pumping while I’m out with friends so I’m not replacing what’s being used.
Because I’m nothing more than a cow.
I reached out to my tribe and was lifted up by the wonderful group of folks once again.
I had a very nice talk with one of them this evening. She delicately pushed me to explain everything that makes me whole.
Family. My kids, Hubby. Duh.
Baking. Witchlette and I have baked so much in the last few weeks. We still have 1/4 of a double size crumb cake, 10/36 chocolate chip cookies, and about 12/24 sugar cookies.
Reading. I like novels, but I’m all about comics right now. I’m halfway through Deadpool 2012. Colson just joined the fray. The dead presidents were awesome. Before this I reread/finished Ms. Marvel 2010. This all ties into my theory of adulting. Successful adulting is having enough money to do the things you wanted to do as a kid on a larger scale and finding the time to do them.
Writing. Which I have been slacking off on. My mental block has been…well…I wanna write about my kids and talk about my kids and everything about my kids. But then all I’ve got are my kids. And I start to spiral. So instead of spiraling, I’ve been avoiding.
So here we are. PPD, unless it’s a fall festival for earth-based religious folk, sucks and egg.
It’s hard. There’s no off switch.
I didn’t have any issues with Witchlette so this was all new to me. I was diagnosed w clinical depression as a teen but that hasn’t been an issue for quite some time. Therapy didn’t work then and I don’t see it working now as I am a crisis need- when I am experiencing something, I need to go through it in the moment. It can’t wait til my appointment in two weeks. It can’t wait til my appointment on Friday. It’s now, then it’s over and I move on.
I thought I was out of the woods until yesterday. I’m still in it, though I can see the light at the edge of the forest. I can see the field of daisies beyond the tree line. I’ve pranced through them, just beyond the tree line. Right now it’s a zigzag back and forth. I’ve got a strong support system, stronger than I knew…ok, I’ve always known how strong it was but it was confirmed today.