Losing My Shit
Right, so, I’ve kinda gone pretty mental. Yes, more than before. But not quite as mental as I was the few days after Moo was born. But kinda wish-I-wasn’t-alive-how-can-I-kill-myself-I-need-to-escape mental. Not cool.
I didn’t blog or tweet or anything about it much last night because I find the thoughts so frightening. I’m ashamed and embarrassed that my mind gets so out of control. I want this blog to be an accurate account of this mental illness, but I’m fearful of judgement. Mostly from people that know me. I don’t want them to forget the rest of me.
So I need to go to the doctor. I need more drugs or a therapist or a year long tropical island vacation or something. I’ve just got to be brave enough to pick up the phone and ask for the help. And then somehow find the strength to make changes and heal myself. Such an exhausting cycle of being down and having no energy and having no way to get better so getting more down. Why isn’t there a quick fix ‘anti crazy’ pill?