Yesterday was a yo-yo day. The bottom sucked. I was frozen in misery, my tears cried, my muscles tensed, stuck in bed like roadkill. The hubs and my MIL took turns checking on me while trying to take of the baby and make dinner. It was horrible to feel so low again after spending a week getting to a better place.
Today I had an appointment with the psychiatrist and she was definitely not pleased with my reaction to coming home. "Too much, too soon" she said, "I think we underestimated the level of stress for you" and "I really think outpatient is where you need to be."
So we're looking into it. And childcare. And finding another doula for my October client. She also recommended getting a new therapist (already in the works) and moving the Disneyland trip (uh, yeah... probably not gonna happen).
Basically I'm a train wreck in the midst of a hurricane. I can stand Baby Bananaface for a few minutes here and there but my tolerance is next to nothing. Tears or anger or both if I overdo it. I'm practically useless but at least I don't eat much (appetite is messed up too).
Ugh. This sucks. Yesterday I said "I don't want to do this anymore" or "I don't want to live anymore" so many times in my head I lost track. I think it's reasonable to suspect that I may end up in that space again soon.
I did "weave" a few bracelets and color a few mandalas but boy, I sure hope these drugs kick in soon, cuz at the moment it feels like I'm tossing matchsticks on a wet wool blanket hoping for a warm glow.
Shocker. It ain't workin!
At least Baby Bananaface is still glorious.