Today I was reading ‘Homebody’ by Rupi Kaur, and this page struck me. This has been something I have been struggling with.
So I’m going to take a moment and be completely transparent.
Let me preface this by saying the last year and a half has been tough:
Pregnancy was a rollercoaster from the beginning: I was sick most days for the first three months. At about 28 weeks I began experiencing higher blood pressures. At 32 weeks I was having trouble walking and put on light duty with no driving. When my baby was born in December, I was borderline preeclamptic, extending my 6 weeks recovery to 8. In that timeframe, I noticed my “indigestion” was getting progressively worse. At 2 months postpartum, my husband took me to the ER where I learned I had a blocked gallbladder, and lots of Gall stones. I lost my full time job two weeks before my planned surgery. Gallbladder surgery at four months postpartum with another 8 week recovery. At some point between giving birth and three months postpartum, I fell into severe depression.
I’ve always struggled with my mental health, but after giving birth, it tanked. I would look in the mirror and not recognize the person I saw. I hated her. I ignored her.
When I wasn’t caring for a tiny human, I disassociated by being on social media, watching shows, or playing video games for hours until I lost track of time and myself.
I stopped reading, stopped taking care of myself, stopped doing things I loved.
And in that chaos, I fell out of love with writing.
I still struggle.
But I’m trying.
I’m not 100% where I want to be, but I’m getting there. Thank God for the support system I have, or I would’ve given up a while ago.
I started forcing myself to love me again. That was hard and will more than likely always be an internal battle forever.
I will never be who I was and that’s ok.
Recently, I started reading and writing again. It’s hard, and it feels like torture sometimes. But when it doesn’t, and I do get going, I’m interrupted and lose my train of thought. And then I lose the motivation.
Even now, it’s taken me almost two hours to type out what should’ve been a simple post.
But that’s ok. I’ll get there. I’m learning.
My point is, I’m working to finish book three. I remind myself that it’s still good work whether it be whole pages written or just a sentence.
Book three is coming. When, I don’t have the answer for.
Please bare with me. I’m still human after all.