I've been re-reading some of my blog posts from when Luke was an infant, looking for something very specific. I've mentioned once or twice that around the time he turned 5 months old, I developed some anxiety and about a month later, some insomnia and the two fed into each other and turned into an ugly, frightening cycle. Before his birth, I felt like I was prepared for post-partum depression, but the anxiety caught me completely off guard. Since then, I've done a lot more reading about PPD and have learned that for many women, it takes the form of anxiety and insomnia, but at the time, I felt like I was going through that experience all alone.
Over the past month, the voice of Anxiety has been whispering into my ear again. Visions of danger fill my head--house fires and car accidents and wars and for heaven's sakes, zombies. Yes, zombies. Fears, they aren't terribly rational, are they? And so, I've been re-reading old posts, searching for some mention of the anxiety and the insomnia back when they were actually happening. And there's nothing. Not one post about something that was a huge part of my life at the time. Just the other day, I talked to my mom about it and realized that while it was happening, I talked to her on the phone on a nearly-daily basis and yet, I didn't mention the fact that I was engulfed by this constant feeling of panic, of dismay. I remember composing blog posts in my head, scripting conversations in which I told her how scared I was, and yet, I didn't actually write those posts or have those conversations.
So this time, I'm writing the post. I'm having the conversation. I'm shining the light on the monsters in my closet in the hopes that by bringing them to the surface, by looking them in the eye, I might realize that they're not so scary after all. I'm trying to get more sleep--because for me, at least, insomnia and anxiety come together. I'm taking deep breaths and trying to remember that I've been here before. And because I have, I'm hoping that I can remember the way out.
Over the past month, the voice of Anxiety has been whispering into my ear again. Visions of danger fill my head--house fires and car accidents and wars and for heaven's sakes, zombies. Yes, zombies. Fears, they aren't terribly rational, are they? And so, I've been re-reading old posts, searching for some mention of the anxiety and the insomnia back when they were actually happening. And there's nothing. Not one post about something that was a huge part of my life at the time. Just the other day, I talked to my mom about it and realized that while it was happening, I talked to her on the phone on a nearly-daily basis and yet, I didn't mention the fact that I was engulfed by this constant feeling of panic, of dismay. I remember composing blog posts in my head, scripting conversations in which I told her how scared I was, and yet, I didn't actually write those posts or have those conversations.
So this time, I'm writing the post. I'm having the conversation. I'm shining the light on the monsters in my closet in the hopes that by bringing them to the surface, by looking them in the eye, I might realize that they're not so scary after all. I'm trying to get more sleep--because for me, at least, insomnia and anxiety come together. I'm taking deep breaths and trying to remember that I've been here before. And because I have, I'm hoping that I can remember the way out.
1 comment:
Hugs Anisha. I had terrible anxiety after both my kids were born. And it passed -- both times. But knowing that didn't make it easier until it passed the second time too. You are definitely not alone.
Post a Comment