I am a paradox

I think there are a lot of us out there. Maybe we should get shirts, or jackets, or those matching plastic bracelets.

ANYWAYS – I am a paradox for a number of reasons. My condition, PNH, is a GIANT unfortunate paradox, but that’s not what I am talking about tonight. Tonight you get a different illness.

Yay?

For the past few days there has been a cloud that has been following me around. This is not the first time I have seen this cloud. It started making it’s way into my daily forecast during my adolescence. It comes and goes. While I was pregnant it was pretty much a constant. Once he was born though, it seemed to move off. Only in the past few weeks have I really started to notice it again. It came around right around the same time as I got sick, as it often does. But this time it is lingering a little too long, so I went to see a specialist. This was not my first time doing this so I kind of knew what to expect.

The bad news is I was exactly right, this is a bout of depression that will lesson with time, counseling and medication. It is heightened by my pre-existing elephant (also known to those who have not read previous post as Anxiety) who just picks the worst time to take a seat on my chest and pin me down while the cloud whispers evil things into my head. The good news is…I was right?

It really is not all bad. Yes, my chest hurts so bad sometimes I just need to crawl into a hole and sleep for 2 days but I can’t because I have a job and a son who I am already worried has figured out that he could do better in the mother department because I am not home with him all the time like my mom and husband are with him and when I am home I am distracted and busy because I still feel like I have something to prove at my new job and all I want to do is call in delivery for dinner but I can’t because I’m about to run out the clock on the “Baby Weight” excuse not that I was ever tiny before but if I can just get back to being less big than I am now but then my body starts to hurt from trying to work out and eat right and I remind myself that I have to take it easy because I am sick but I don’t ever want to be treated like I’m sick ….

Sorry. I think you get the point.

My point being is that it is not all like that. I just put my son to sleep. I feed him. I held him in my arms as he slept. I kissed his tiny lips and cheeks. Even his tiny nose. As I was adjusting to stand up to put him in the crib he reached out and grabbed my hand. Not like he was scared or fussy. More like he just was not ready for me to put him  down yet. I held him for another 10 minuets or so and then he finally let go and adjusted. I set him in the crib and he went right to sleep. It was my piece of perfect. My happy.

You can be depressed and still be a happy person. I am living proof.

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