I found the courage

Thank you to those of you who have reached out to me with similar experiences or just expressed care and concern for how I’ve been feeling. I really appreciate that and it helps me realize that I’m not alone in this and that how I feel isn’t “normal”, but I’m not the only one who has ever felt this way before.

Since I have talked about some of the very minor details of how I’m feeling on the blog now, I thought I should update you all and let you know that I finally found the courage to make an appointment with the doctor. I go back in forth in my head all the time about canceling the appointment—but my “issues/struggles” have gotten to the point where I absolutely know I cannot live like this and need help and so that helps me stay strong in what feels like absolute weakness.

I don’t know why I didn’t see it before and I wish so badly that I had gotten help before now. It has only progressively gotten worse. And I hope and pray that there is help for me. Worry, worry, worry.

On Friday, I decided to go to Kohl’s with baby and, while I survived, by the time I got home I was about undone. Baby was perfectly behaved and happy, except for crying the entire way home (which I think would be hard for anyone). But it’s these little things, like going out in public alone, that are just too much for me.

There are so many tears—but it has become a good outlet for my feelings. It’s not that I’m sad. It’s more overwhelming anxiety. But this is not normal.

But over the weekend, I felt like myself for a brief moment. I felt that joy in my heart. I was smiling. I was singing. I felt happy. And that made me realize how much I’ve missed just feeling like myself.

It’s when I have those moments that I think hey, maybe I’m ok. But fast forward to the middle of the night and I can’t turn my mind off. I worry and worry about things past, present and future. I wake up feeling nervous and jittery simply in anticipation about leaving the house again.

I just can’t live like that. There’s so much pressure. It feels like this huge weight on my chest. Everything feels heavy. I keep taking deep breaths. My heart seems to race. My shoulders, neck, and arms feel so tense.

And then the littlest things will be my undoing. My heart breaks easier. I become irritated and angry very quickly. All of these emotions—they’re so heavy. And this is just a part of it, I don’t really feel like divulging every little detail about how I feel yet.

It has been good now that I can acknowledge there’s something wrong. I think it has been good for both me and hubby because it’s been a realization that I haven’t just become this horrible person and wife—something is wrong, something is not right. And then we think about a million things that have happened in the past 9 1/2 months and it all becomes clear and it all starts to make sense. How is it that we didn’t realize this before now? We thought we were educated.

And now, even when I feel it’s trivial, if hubby asks what’s wrong—I tell him. Like Sunday morning, he could tell I was a bit irritated or something was wrong and he asked. At first I sharply said, “nothing” and when he left the room, I took a moment to think about what was really wrong.

And then I realized it, I was feeling really nervous about leaving the house. And so I told him that. And he gave me a hug—a much better alternative than my feeling escalating and my taking it out on him instead.

I feel like I’ve taken 1,000 steps by even admitting that something isn’t right. Now it’s just anticipation of the appointment coming up and hopefully figuring out the “why” and receiving a diagnosis and plan. I hope there’s hope—if that makes sense.