Feeling totally flattened by the events since my daughter arriving just over a year ago. I was so in love with her, with my family with the world when she arrived. I had so much energy. I was elated and elevated into the highs of what my doctors would call a mania. And I guess that was unsustainable. Yet observing the total wreck of a person I am witnessing myself to be these days isn’t much better. My house is upside down, I can’t keep on top of even the simplest of jobs, clutter everywhere, cooking, which I used to love, is a dread. All of this on top of homeschooling an inquisitive six year old and looking after just beginning to walk toddler.
Often questioning when will this phase pass? I have now come of the antipsychotics which is brilliant, yet I am “gifted” with the most ghastly discontinuation symptoms of headaches and insomnia, which arrive with its worries (relapse!) though getting much better then last week.
Those of you who have gone through the whole phase of recovery.
Does life get back into its tracks eventually?
For me, this part of recovery seems absolutely never-ending! Chuck the odd global pandemic and a lockdown in the mix and I feel like I am set for a grand failure.