An Open Letter to My Post-Partum Anxiety
I regret to inform you that since you received no formal invitation to reside in this body, you are officially being asked to evacuate the premises immediately. Big-O’s evacuation was not an open invitation for any old squatter to take up residence. We were all having a great time with our darling baby boy when you burst through the door, wreaking havoc.
You certainly made yourself right at home, annoying everyone and bossing us all around. We’ve all missed sleep because of your incessant chatter filled with tales of horror and woe. I don’t believe a word you say and yet I cannot tune you out or convince my body that you spout nothing but lies.
At first, I thought I was strong enough to fight you on my own, to wrestle you to the ground and force you to leave. But you would not back down. After weeks of struggling with no sleep, no food, and no hope or peace, I knew you had beaten me and I gave up. Against the sincerest desires of my nature, I purchased and used the ammunition necessary to banish you to the smallest, darkest corner of my mind, a place where you are scarcely noticeable. However, sometimes, when I least expect it, you emerge unscathed and ready to do battle again. These are the times when I hate you the most.
You are a liar and a thief, a sadist and a leech. You’re a bully who cares about no one and seeks to destroy everyone you come in contact with. Little-C is afraid of you. You make her nervous, uneasy and insecure. Dan has even missed work to stay home and protect me from you.
I do appreciate the work you’ve done to help me lose weight, although I wish you’d gone about it some other way. And I am grateful for the increased compassion I now have for anyone who has been visited in the past by you or any of your hateful relatives.
However, I have decided that I am done with you. I most forcefully request that you leave at once so I can dispose of my ammunition and continue my life in relative peace (okay, who am I kidding? I have 2 children under the age of 3).
Owner and Proprietor of aforementioned body
P.S. I know you stole the first 5 weeks of my son’s life from me. Please return it on your way out.
***On a lighter note, please click on my open letter link to read some that are a lot more fun than the one I just posted****