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An Open Letter to My Post-Partum Anxiety

September 22, 2005 by Kathryn

Dear Madam,
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).

Sincerely,
-Kathryn Daring

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****

Filed Under: Uncategorized

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Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Stephanie says

    September 23, 2005 at 7:25 am

    I really like this one. I bet it made you feel better. Humor always helps. Don’t worry, you won’t have to take your meds forever, but don’t even think about trying to get off them anytime soon (I’m still on mine and Serena’s one). You can beat this. Wonderful letter. I hope she listens.

  2. Sarah says

    March 27, 2006 at 6:27 am

    I’ve been there. We should get tattoos or medals or something for having fought this battle. Keep fighting–we’ll win.

  3. kim says

    October 26, 2007 at 6:38 pm

    I did this anxiety ridden thing…thougt I’d lost my mind…still have moments..can almost track it monthly. I also found out I have thyroid issues…couldn’t even take the kids to the swings in the yard alone..a nightmare but awake and it didn’t go away. Started when baby was 2 months old…he is now16 months and just starting to feel more normal…no drugs…just thyroxin…anyone been there?

  4. monkiemama says

    December 28, 2007 at 5:28 am

    Kathryn, thank you for posting this! I cannot tell you what good it does to my heart! Kim–I have this too! I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism last year but I now suspect I’ve had it for a very long time. Two weeks of the month are hormone-hell for me and I fear I suck my family down with me every time. I am on thyroxin, and tests say my levels are normal, but the hormones still wreck havoc bi-monthly (just not in as spectacularly destructive ways as before). Oh the joys! It’s nice to know I’m not the only one on this boat. I’m coming to realize a lot of people have similar problems and get this drowning feeling too. Together maybe we can row, row, row the stinkin’ boat.

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