I woke up angry today. I blame it on pregnancy hormones, a bad nights sleep, and my husband.
OK, it really wasn’t my husbands fault, but I needed to be angry at someone.
I’ve actually been feeling little bouts of anger all throughout this week. Brings me back to those good old postpartum days.
But yeah, this week I’ll be feeling totally fine and then I’ll start thinking of my mother and all the thoughtless things she has said to me since my son was born. The thoughts then consume me to the point where I am having arguments with her in my head. Which then lead to imaginary arguments with my sister, because, well, why not.
Or I’ll start thinking about my job and how I got fucked over while on maternity leave. (In hindsight it was the best thing that could have happened – but I was angry, so angry, at the time.) And again, the imaginary arguments ensue.
Most days I’m able to catch these thoughts before they get out of control. I notice the thought, and simply acknowledge that I’ve got some shit to deal with, or let go of. And that will be it.
Not these days. These days I get all worked up. Over imaginary conversations that I don’t ever plan on having.
My morning anger thankfully subsided. My son helps (a lot). My husband helps. Sunshine and gratitude help. And time alone. To think, cry, write, listen to music, or just breathe.
Plus it’s Friday!!