The anxiety is starting to creep in again. And I am starting to worry. I am worried that I am not going to be okay. I am worried that I am not actually getting better. I find myself wanting to sleep. I want to be left alone. I don't feel like going to work. And I feel like if I give in to these things, if I allow myself to feel bad then the bad feelings will come flooding through and engulf me and I will again drown in the undercurrent.
I have contemplated sitting down for 20 minutes and just posting SOMETHING in my motherhood blog. But nothing seems worthy of note. Lila is behaving and I am not getting angry at her so much. I haven't posted in weeks and I want to pretend like I just have nothing to say but the truth is that I am just afraid. If I stop for a few minutes and put it down, if I acknowledge that I am still frustrated and annoyed and feel like pulling my hair out, I will be looking right into the face of my demons and looking at it will somehow allow it to take over.
I feel that way now, writing this. Like I have been doing a great job of running and dodging and staying ahead of it. And now I have stopped to see if it is still there behind me. You know what happens when characters in movies stop and think their pursuer isn't there anymore, right?
