A Perfect Storm.

I probably should have known better.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that having back to back pregnancies after struggling with post-partum anxiety isn’t the best way to avoid it a second time.

I imagine that the sleep deprivation and killer migraines don’t help in that department either.

Add to that the fact that my maternal grandmother has been hospitalized for the past six weeks and her condition is worse now that it was when she went in.

It’s the perfect storm. Not just for another bout of PPA, but also for a major case of depression.

Normally, I would call my grandma because talking helps get all this mess out of my head.

And I really should never be left for too long alone with my thoughts.

It can get overwhelmingly crazy in there really quick.

But my grandmother’s tracheotomy tube has left her unable to speak. And that’s kept my days disturbingly quiet at times.

It’s been really hard not to focus on all the gloom and doom in my life right now. Everything is bleak in all directions. 

I’m thankful the boys keep me busy. The distractions help the time pass and my head stays busy with to-do lists and schedules.

Because the less time I have to think about how the rest of my world is slowly crumbling at the edges, the better.

This too shall pass. And I just have to hang in there until it does.

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