When you know it's time.

I had my last therapy session a few weeks after Sarah was born, she was snuggled up on my chest and I talked about the whirlwind of my labor and where I was now.

In that moment I felt so close to complete. I felt like I had been pieced back together so well that you would need a microscope to see the cracks. Kitty said that this can happen when people have depression. When you body goes through such a significant change, such as pregnancy and childbirth, the positive effects can be lasting.

I prided myself on the fact that I had broken free of my depression and that I had a strong hold on it. I was going about my day to day life with out that darkness taking hold. It was an amazing feeling.

Fast forward and here we are, almost three years later and I am watching the clock, waiting for 330 so I can make my way to an appointment with a new therapist. My name sits in the last slot of a complete strangers list, they don't know me, nor I them. I hate having to try to connect with someone's single paragraph bio. I am dreading this appointment but I know the cathartic release that will come from it.

I knew it was time when I started feeling the darkness seep in to the settling cracks in my foundation

there in the thoughts that kept me up at night
there in the silent prayers to stay in bed all day
there in the tears I shed alone
there in the old, familiar excuses
there in the silence
there in the bottom of the bottle I now found comfort in
there in the minutes in hours before I can go to sleep and escape

I feel like I am loosing grip of all the work I have done up until now, this foundation I made is crumbling and I am afraid it is taking my marriage and parenthood with it.

That is the one thing I hate about this disease, it is so unforgivably selfish. My daughter doesn't understand why I just yelled at her and now I am holding her sobbing and tell her "mommy's sorry, mommy has a hurt." My husband is just now accepting that this is REAL, this is a real disease and isn't just me being difficult or using depression as a scapegoat to be self centered.

I know it's my time again, to regain control.