To say that the last couple weeks haven’t been good seems to be an absurd understatement of the way things have been. I don’t know for sure when the last day I didn’t cry was. I don’t remember the last time I felt really, truly okay. Things will change though – they have to.
This week I sat on the floor in our livingroom with my favourite four year old on my lap and I cried unable to stop and I don’t know why. I cried for long enough that my favourite four year old started to feel sad because Mommy was sad and then I forced myself to pull it together for long enough to get him into bed.
That was the night my husband told me that I needed to see the doctor the next day. It was the thing I most wanted not to do, but I knew he was right.
So the next morning I called and made the appointment, arrived, met with the doctor and verbally gave her the history that wasn’t in my UK medical records – the history of me falling to pieces and being unable to pull myself back together. She’s referring me to the psychiatrist and wants to see me at least once a week until I’m feeeling better.
You see, I want to be okay again – what’s more I want to be happy. I just can’t seem to find the path to get me there.
And it’s okay because there is help and there is support and I just need to admit to my problems and accept that I need that help and support. And slowly, slowly I’m getting there.