Sometimes I just feel like I’m going crazy. It is slowly working its way deeper into my new ‘normal.’
Sometime it is as simple as forgetting to wear socks, putting the bread in the fridge when I’m done, walking into a room and having no clue why, being in the middle of a sentence and forgetting the end of it, talking to my girls out loud in public, grabbing something other than my soda can or water bottle and trying to drink from it, dipping an ink pen into the solution I just made thinking it was my syringe, and etc.
Maybe this is just my brain’s way of protecting its self. A way of putting a layer between perception and reality. A cushion to my grief.
Or is it what I’m doing to myself? All the questions, research, and what ifs. Listening to the people that tell me I will have another baby die if I don’t get a TAC. I honestly do not believe I have IC, so why do I even listen to them in the first place?
Questions, research, work and thoughts of babies cloud my judgement. Everywhere I look, I can’t escape pregnancy and babies. No wonder I’m going crazy.
“Then the days got worse and worse
And now you see I’ve gone
Completely out of my mind.
And they’re coming to take me away ha haa
They’re coming to take me away ho ho he he ha haa
To the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time.
And I’ll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats….”