Sunday Evening

My body has been flooded with oxytocin for so many months, that I almost forgot what it was like to experience the exhaustion preceded by a few days of heavy anxiety. While I was pregnant, I also avoided those days, where simply existing feels so. freaking. hard. because all of your thoughts are competing for attention at the same time, and everything is happening TO you, and BECAUSE of you, and you are angry at your brain for being so self-centered but can’t get out of it even with the knowledge that it’s going to be over soon and you’re okay, you just think you’re gonna maybe die of panic. While I was pregnant, the hormones were mostly steady, so I forgot about the emotional swing that happens during the different cycles of the moon.

Last week, it hit me hard. I spent a few days being a mild asshole (but it felt much worse than that). I said things prematurely and without stopping to wonder how my words might affect others. I’m a frustratingly sensitive person, so it’s not everyday I storm past people in the office exuding nothing but anger and saying pretty much whatever came into my mind.

Luckily I have a strong support system, and my mom, my sister, my husband and my friends are understanding and forgiving (most of the time). And luckily, I’ve dealt with this for a long time and know how to speak gently to myself, to tell myself that those thoughts going around in my head aren’t truth, and that I am love, even when a little bit of shitty fear creeps in.


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