It all started about six weeks ago, with a constant desire to eat and as of last week morphed into an ugly ass beast. I had a non-existent fuse and the idea of getting out bed in the morning was along the lines of torture to me. I thought long and hard about what could be causing these feelings, I knew the answer but didn’t want to face it most people won’t understand it. Heck I didn’t even realize what was going on until the day my period started and I had the mother off all panic attacks. I felt like I was going to die. My period happen to start on the same day as my loss two years ago and it was eerily close to the same time also.
I wish that I could not be effected by the events of two years ago, but I am. They still haunt me. Yes, I am thankful for Ollie but unless you have had a loss you won’t get. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. I realized over the weekend if I didn’t start to do something, I was going to lose my mind.
So on Monday morning, I got up decided that I wasn’t going to take a nap (something I had been doing to avoid thinking). I was going to step out of the kitchen and stop drinking coke like it was water. I am now constantly carrying around the big mugs they give you in the hospital. I have woken up each morning this week and got up with a smile, even if I had to fake it.
I will come out of this stronger, I will come out of this happier, and I will not let depression win.