For the first time in 8 1/2 months I was home with Gregory alone for almost 3 days. 2 very sleepless nights. Not because of him, but because of me.
So tonight, with Jason back home, I was allowed to fall apart. When I'm low on sleep falling apart is going to happen, it's just a matter of when. With another adult here I was successful in my melting down and negative self loathing talk.
What the heck am I doing? What kind of life am I living where I'm looking for a job, putting my kid in daycare part time for a mental break, attempting to write a book about how I fell apart and got through it. But I am not through it.
Almost 9 months out and the trauma and pain that turned my life upside down is still very real and rears it's freaking ugly head more often than I'd prefer. Tonight I announced I'm still a freaking (ok I used the other F word) mess. Jason isn't allowed to leave again for a long time.
But really, is this all I'll ever be? A stay at home wife who cleans but can't emotionally handle being in charge of the easiest baby ever to be born, looking for work I'm not sure I'll ever find while trying to tell my story to help others? My story SUCKS. Tonight I had a bad hour or two which led to me questioning everything. Is this all I can offer myself and my family? Is this all I'll ever be? Tonight I feel like I will forever be changed: broken. Never to see my old self again...