I feel like I’m in a dream, or a stupor. I’m watching myself morphing into this person I can’t even recognize and I’m on the outside looking in, not able to do anything about it. I’ve totally lost my sense of humor, everything sucks big time and I’m reduced to a crying machine. Six months later, this might actually be funny on retrospect but right now, it’s just plain sickening.
The crying bouts are back with a vengeance and the husband’s catch phrase these days is “want to cry cry”? Which sounds retarded, but it will somehow trigger off the tears and I’ll start bawling away.
Most of the time, I don’t even know what I’m crying about, but I must say it’s kinda cathartic. It’s a vicious cycle; I become totally irrational and start worrying that I’m a terrible mother and my kids are going to grow up dysfunctional and I’ll become a psychotic monster of a mother who will end up frazzled and crazy. Then I get pissed off with everything and after that I’ll get all guilty and hate myself.
But right after, I usually feel a lot better. For like a couple of hours until the next cry.
Just yesterday, I was spending time with Tru and suddenly it hits me, so I start crying uncontrollably. I think he knew that I’m crying, so he peered intently at me for like a full minute, then he climbed onto my lap and nuzzled his head on my chest. I’ve been feeling awful about not being able to spend time with him the past 4 days while I was in the hospital and all I could do was hold him and cry for a good 10 minutes.
I honestly don’t know how I’m going to last the next 3 months. What with the exhaustion and stress and pain and breastfeeding problems and depression, it’s all I can do to get through one day at a time. It’s so bad that I’m actually considering some anti-depressants or medication to help with the hormones.
Every morning I wake up telling myself I just need to survive the day and everything will be fine. Just one more day.
