I guess I should count myself lucky. I’ve never had to deal with the full-blown, emotionally/physically debilitating postpartum depression that some mothers have. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my fair share of baby blues. Hormones tend to yo-yo up and down for about a year after giving birth, especially if you’re breastfeeding, which I am.
And for the last three months I’ve felt fiiiine. Completely fiiiiine!
Until, suddenly, I didn’t.
Phoebe turned three months old on Monday and this entire week I’ve felt entirely un-fine. Emotions are pretty much stuck between the irritation and sadness settings, and a part of me would very much like to grab a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of wine, and a block of chocolate and whole up in a shadowy corner to start writing dark poetry about fading beauty or the abyss.
But then, I realized the fact that I suck at poetry would render the whole thing more depressing than I could bear.
So I cleaned my house, thinking that a shiny environment would make things feel better on the inside…Then I realized just how much I hate cleaning and went on to despise every minute of the monotonous tasks before me.
I also felt bad about missing not one, but two blogging days this week. So I decided- who cares if it’s Thursday!? I’m going to blog today. I miss the interaction with my writer friends. I miss opening up my email and reading the comments.
And you know what else I miss? I miss what pushed me to start this blog in the first place.
Writing and Querying
Okay, maybe not querying so much as acting on the perpetual hope that somehow, some way I’ll one day see my books on bookshelves all over the world one day. That hope has been evading me now for quite some time and I need to set its tail on fire.
And then, there’s writing. I’ve had a premise in the back of my mind for awhile but haven’t felt that pull quite yet- the one that makes you want to take a break from your life and go wade in a different world of your own creation. I don’t want to force it, because I’ve tried starting projects just for the sake of writing, in general, and they always remain unfinished. But at the same time, I really miss that thrill and hope inspiration will strike me hard, soon.
Where are you guys at, writing wise? And for those of you who have ever had to deal with periods of ‘un-fine’, hormonal or not, what are your tried and true pick-me-ups?