Lately, it seems my imagination is running away with me.
It's not as though I've been reading terrible news stories on bad things happening on a daily basis, or anything.
I just think my medication has to be adjusted; or it could be that my post partum depression is morphing into post partum anxiety.
I have these horribly vivid thoughts running through my head about waking up to weird noises on the baby monitor, turning on the video, and seeing hands reaching into the crib...I subsequently run into the nursery to find my baby gone.
The most disturbing of all, though, are the foreboding thoughts of Keith coming home to find me dead or severely injured, and Alec gone.
I'm guessing these are all a part of my depression and/or anxiety, and I plan on addressing them at my next visit with the psychiatrist. The sad part is, I realize I'm not alone with these feelings - countless of other women are in my shoes, some of them worse. I'm lucky that at the very least, I can talk to Keith about these fears. I'm lucky that I'm able to get the help that I need, and the medication to stabilize me. So many women don't have that.
And I'm so very, very lucky that when I wake up in the mornings, Alec is still in his crib.