by Tam King
I just don’t really know where to start. It’s been no secret that the past few months have been hard and complicated and scary… Yes, scary. The fear was something that took me by surprise. I wasn’t sure what was going on or why I felt so foreign in my own skin, how I came to this place where I literally woke up one morning and didn’t know who I was. I felt terrified that I might wander back down that path, that path of self-loathing and self-destruction, but instead I found salvation of sorts.
I met my psychologist three weeks ago. After just fifteen minutes of hearing what I was saying she gave me two terms. The first one I accepted whole heatedly – Anxiety. Not depression, but anxiety. Truthfully I had no idea what this actually meant for me, but I knew somewhere inside me that she was right. The feeling of spiraling, explosive anger and shameful regret…
The other term was Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
It’s taken three weeks for me to tell anybody. I felt GUILT. What right do I have to use such a loaded and important diagnosis? Isn’t that something that war veterans suffer with? Or those heroes from 9/11? What right did I, a mere lay person, have to have such a serious diagnosis?
Oh, sure, I had four miscarriages, an affair, endured a horrific pregnancy with a terminally ill baby, lost a child, lost my job, endured another pregnancy and gave birth and faced complications. I got a new job, started studying, deemed 2012 the year of “yes” and took on responsibilities supporting women and families in their infant feeding choices. I advocated for baby-loss families and started getting involved with an amazing Charity. My son was diagnosed FTT (failure to thrive) and my eldest started school……. Then I fell apart.
This isn’t going to beat me.
But for a little while, it just might define me.
About the Author: Tam King is a 26-year-old Mum to three, parent to two. She is a blogger, she works part-time, studies part-time, parents her two children full-time and lives with the loss of her second child, her daughter Ariana at 4 days old all of the time. She uses blogging as an outlet and to keep her sanity and preserve her marriage. She writes about her life, her loss and her grief and the varying dimensions they take on at any given time. You can read more of Tam at her blog, Nearly… Not Quite or follow her on Facebook at Nearly… Not Quite.