saturday confession time, folks!
some days it seems i am well on my way to being better.
other days not so much.
trying to look for patterns, triggers.
well, we have a winner: GROUPS OF PEOPLE.
my 3 best friends & i drinking coffee & wine while munching on cheesecake is not too bad.
a party with 80 people is horrible.
we went to such a party last sunday.
we have not accepted invitations or we've backed out of those we accepted last minute since the muffin was born.
i have been "better" though lately, so i thought i was up for it.
a huge part of our "social circle" would be there.
that's safe, right?
it included dinner.
i am super self conscious of my weight lately (yes, i am down to 110 at age 34 after baby #4 and am 5feet 5inches tall. yes, i know this means i have a potential "recurrence of anexoria".), so the thought of eating in front of people sparked anxiety.
"they will wonder why the fatty is eating so much."
our "social circle" includes a lot of peeps with kids older than ours.
soooo the ladies are not half dead looking because they get no sleep.
babies & ppd don't keep them awake.
i was well aware i looked extremely tired & extra pasty white.
why do i keep such beautiful friends?
i was making mental notes to find some fuddly looking friends.
and friends who don't know how to accessorize so well.
because i was feeling ugly.
feeling everyone in the joint could tell what a crap mom & wife i am...
you know, the typical thought spiral.
hubby did a great job checking in with me all night.
i was hanging out in one of the sitting rooms.
i can fake it sometimes like a BOSS.
kept smiling & saying i was fine when the hot hubby asked.
while my insides exploded.
& my thoughts were making me madly spin.
then it happened.
my hands went numb.
my chest got tight.
"babe, i can't feel my fingers. we gotta go. like right now."
"babe, why didn't you say you were struggling? we would've left earlier!"
"you were having a good time. i didn't want to ruin yet another time."
"you don't ruin things."
i needed that. i don't ruin things. ppd DOES. i am not ppd. i am me.
and we left.
another anxiety attack in the middle of festiveness.
i need to help in my daughter's art class once a week starting this week for 7 weeks.
this seems like hell to me.
big groups of people.
what if this happens there?
i'm a mess about it.
but i want to say: ppd, you may knock me on my ass sometimes, but you will NOT win.