Breathe Again

I've had to take many deep breaths since I found out I didn't get either of the internships at Genworth Financial. It's whatever though. What God has for me is for me. And God didn't have those internships for me. They were for other people.

I've picked myself up, dusted myself off, and applied to other internships. It took me a couple days because I really wasn't up to it, but there's no faith without action.

I must admit that I had a mini --ok major-- breakdown the other day. It's been a couple months since I've had one of those episodes. And I think I came to the realization that my post-partum depression isn't completely gone.

PPD is such a taboo subject that I don't really discuss it with people. No, I haven't had any thoughts of hurting my baby or myself. My PPD is more like post-partum anxiety. I've had many anxiety attacks since my daughter's birth. I've had unsettling feelings that other people can't take care of her the way I can or that she is in danger for no apparent reason. These feelings started before I was discharged from the hospital, and they've never been regular "baby blues."

I've talked to my doctor about them and he thinks that I just have a "touch" of PPD. The sad part is that I'm really not surprised that I ended up with PPD or PPA. I've suffered from anxiety attacks for almost 5 years. I've suffered from depression and PTSD before. I'm glad to say that I've always managed these roadblocks with much prayer, some counseling, and no medication. And I think I've done a darn good job handling it.

Despite my emotional hangups, I must admit that I'm ready to just breathe again. I'm tired of holding my breath aniticipating something bad will happen.