Whoop, There It Is

R-man had his “two week” check up last Friday. He’s healthy, ten pounds! And diagnosed with reflux…so on meds three times a day. They’re also checking for dairy intolerance.

At the two week, here at least, they do a check in with Mom too. Anything over a nine is cause for concern/further discussion. I scored a 19.

I’m back on meds.

And…I feel like a failure.

I’m struggling. I’ve really shut down, and it takes a lot for me to even text any of my friends/family right now.

Hopefully the meds work. Hopefully seeing my counselor next week helps. Because, this is hard as fuck.

I wasn’t officially diagnosed with PPD with G, my counselor thinks I had some, but it was manageable and I wasn’t officially diagnosed with anything until six months later.

It’s…isolating. Exhaustion. Frustration and frustrating. I just want to sleep, and sleep, and sleep until this feeling goes away.

But…the things I have to do: raising my boys, finishing school stuff, carrying out personal things, has to be done. I don’t get to curl up in a ball. No matter how badly I want to.

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