Writing here is just like deciding to go see my therapist or deciding if even I want to go see her, hard. The day I saw my therapist was a bad day, my anxiety made me anxious all up to the appointment came and it made me go super early to the appointment. I had to take my baby with me, making me more anxious. The baby was fussy and I was uncomfortable on the super windy day. By the time I saw my therapist I was overwhelmed. Seeing her for 30 minutes only doesn’t seem enough, and driving more than 30 minutes by street doesn’t seem enough. the baby cried all the way home until he turned purple and even through the drive through that seemed like an eternity.
when I got home, My husband and I had an argument when I asked him to help me bathe the baby since I didn’t want him to slip or something while o tried to reach the shampoo. He said something like “I’ll help bc you’re too scared.” That triggered me into a crying spell and about what I’ve been going through. Turns out he doesn’t want to accept I’m that sick. I ended up feeling worse or like I shouldn’t have opened up to him at all. After I showered I tried once more to calmly explain that I didn’t need babysitting, I was not a danger to the baby or how my mind was working.
He said he just didn’t understand and that’s the dad part no one will understand what we go through or feel. We ended up reconciling
I later opened up to my ministers wife and that was another moment of anxiety.
Today, I pushed myself to take a walk with my baby. Every step stronger. Every step overcoming my anxiety. Every step fighting.