OK, everyone was right. When I posted the post about closing this blog, everyone who commented about leaving it open for the occasional post was right. I don’t have to be a blog junkie. I don’t have to be a comment whore. I don’t have to be the most popular in the blog world, which is obviously not going to happen. I do enjoy being able to vent when I want to, whether or not anyone actually listens.
And I confess that since I wrote that post a little over a month ago, I have discovered something about myself. I am going through Postpartum Depression. This is the single most horrifying experience I have ever gone through, seriously.
I’ve done a little research on it, and it says it’s set off by something traumatic… ha.
It generally sets in 3-4 months after a birth… ha.
And I have all but one of the symptoms, and that one is that I don’t want to hurt my kids. I do however want to kill my husband every other day. In between I kinda like him, and then I love him. I’m super happy one minute, and then I just start crying hysterically the next, and cry for hours. I get angry, I mean really angry over Nothing. At. All. Things that kinda bother me are blown completely out of proportion in my mind and heart, which adds to my stress. I generally feel like breaking everything breakable in the house, plowing the truck into oncoming traffic, putting every game my husband owns in the oven and turning it on high. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to see anyone. I hide all feelings from my husband for many reasons. I’d rather just hide in my craft room and work on multitudes of paintings. And thankfully the little voice in my head that stops me from actually being a genuinely crazy person hasn’t gone on vacation just yet. So I’m not fit for a straight jacket, and before I am, I am going in to see a Dr., this week as a matter of fact.