Last week, I was not okay. Not in the least. I broke down crying several days in a row. I was lethargic. I was short-tempered. Everything was spiraling downwards and I didn’t know why. Nothing was okay. I was not okay.
Friends and family would ask me how I was doing and I would reply “Fine.” I was “fine.” I was always “fine.” I mean hell, I was tired too. But I was “fine”. Because I didn’t know what else to be.
And if you’re reading this now, I’m sorry I didn’t say more. Clearly, I know how to write my feelings better than I know how to speak about them.
But I am still not okay.
The picture above? That was a brief two hour period of sheer happiness on Saturday afternoon. It was the bright spot (literally) in a bleak few days. I didn’t know what to do. After that picture was taken, I brought Riley home for nap and he refused. I snapped at him. And then I cried some more.
I literally let him chill in his crib, not nap and I sat on the floor of my bathroom crying saying “I’m not okay.” It was awful. And gut wrenching. And I felt like I was treading water without getting anywhere.
By Saturday night, when we put Riley to bed, I literally had Matt hold me and I broke down. I was full on sobbing and I didn’t know why. Was I depressed? Was I stressed? Was I broken? I honestly didn’t know.
And honestly, I still really don’t.
I am finally starting to feel like myself again, like I’m coming up for air and everything isn’t in despair. But I’m not totally there.
I still feel weighed down. I still feel a little bit sad.
I’m not writing this post to say “Oh woe is me”, I’m writing this because I wanted to share it. Life is not always perfect and hell, feelings don’t always make sense.
And keeping them to myself definitely doesn’t help.
So I’m here, saying: I’m working on it. I’m working on me.
As always, thanks for listening.
Posted in Me Things