Sunday, March 27, 2011

Naked Anxiety

Since the blog launch I've had a couple of rough days.  I suppose you could call it a "relapse".  As healing as the blog is, as much as I want people to know they are not alone in their imperfections, it is difficult. To put myself out there is scary. To take of my electronic clothes and show my naked binary self is terrifying. Even if it is just a simple blurb about a simple thing, the world of snarks are waiting to pounce. So, I had a couple of rough days.

Much like a drug addict in recovery, so I suppose is the recovery of my mental health. There will be days when I slip. One night, out of the blue my baby did not look like my baby. I did not recognize her. Just like with the troubling thoughts , I knew she was Ava. She did not look like Ava. In retrospect, it had been a high stress day. I was not feeling well, my wrists were in pain, and she had been fussy and needy. I held on. I knew it was just my mind, fucking with me. I knew it was her. I took ten deep breaths and a Valium. I held her and fed her until it passed. It wasn't long, thank the gods.

When my husband came home I told him what happened and he took care of me. He told me it will all be OK. He is right. It will all be OK. I "went fishing". I gave myself a break from blogs, and dishes, and combing my hair. I put humpty dumpty back together again.

I want to say I am sorry. I am so sorry to all of the women whose mental illness landed them in the scorching public eye. I have seen just a splinter of the looking glass they fell through and it was excruciating. I am sorry for my judgmental words. I am sorry that the most beautiful thing in the world (being a mother) was turned into the most horrifying thing in the world (being a murderer). Forgive me I had no idea. I'm sorry no one was there for you. I am sorry you could not ask for help.

No need to call the authorities. I assure you I love that baby more than life itself. I'm back now. I want others to know imperfection is a perfectly fine state of being. Here I am, bare.