The first crack ripped into my path February 4, 2005...the day my daughter was born.
I easily side-stepped it, floated over in fact...for the first 4 days.
And then, other tears began to appear. They seemed to multiply and spread every day, cleaving into my seemingly solid direction...severing me from my baby and my existence. It was getting harder and harder to weave my way through...
When Monkey-Moo was just shy of being 2 months old, my world gave way from under me. I fell. I reached out to grasp at the vitality above, and held on tightly to stop my descend.
My grip lessened every day...until I felt it slipping out of my hands, and I began to plummet again.
I didn't struggle to hold on any longer...I welcomed the approaching darkness...I didn't have the strength or will to persevere. I pleaded for the chasms to close up around me...let Life continue on without me...
And thus began my battle with post-partum depression.
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