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Wednesday, February 8, 2012

I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues.....

 I have a hard time getting over sad events.  I have always been an emotional person.  I've talked before about how I cry when I'm happy or sad.  I wear my heart on my sleeve and that's just the way it is.

However, after I had my son, I was an emotional mess.  I would like to say it was the stress of being a new mom and the hormones, but I was dealing with crippling emotions and I've never really talked about it.

In hindsight, I wish I had gone and talked to someone.  The problem was, for the most part, I was fine during the day.  I was busy, working, and taking care of my baby.  Night time was a different story.  One sad or scary thought would have me curled in the fetal position, crying for hours.

One night, it was something as simple as laying my head on my husband's chest and hearing his heartbeat.  It took all of 10 seconds for me to think about how fragile life is and what would I do if I lost anyone I loved and had I done enough to let the people in my life know that I loved them?  I would stay awake for hours, worried and upset.

Current events would creep into my thoughts at night.  I remember when one of the guilty in the Oklahoma City bombing was executed, there was a resurgence of information about the victims and the survivors and those who had lost their loved ones.  I was completely unable to stop thinking about them.  I cried and cried, it was unimaginable to me that 6 years later, these people were able to talk about it and somehow keep moving forward.  I was convinced that if it happened to me, I would be completely stuck.

I would love to say that this only lasted a few months after my son was born, but that would be dishonest.  I really think that I was only back to normal after I had my daughter.  I don't know why this happened.  There isn't any medical reason for it, I'm sure.  I literally feel like I was out of whack and somehow everything went back to my "normal" after I had her.

I am still emotional, recent events in Washington, where Josh Powell killed his 2 beautiful boys and himself, upset me, I think about them a lot.  I don't know why it doesn't cripple me like it used to, it's just as horrifying and upsetting.  I think in some way, age and maturity had something to do with it, but I also know that somehow my little girl changed something in me that I can't explain.

I don't know why I've decided to share this now.  I think if I had known that anyone was going through what I was, it would have been such a comfort.  So if anyone out there ever felt this way, you're not alone!!

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