27th August is World Forgiveness Day.
The aim of this initiative, according to what I can find, is to forgive the unforgivable. I am not so sure about that.
I am all for forgiveness, I try mostly, to forgive those who have wronged me, and I hope in turn those that I have wronged will forgive me.
But I have a question, when do we cross the fine line between forgiving someone repeatedly and being their doormat?
When can we say, okay this is enough, I am just enabling you to walk all over me, I am done now.
As Christians we are taught there should be no limit to the amount of times we forgive, after all we are not allotted a certain amount of “pardons”. What my head says is something completely different though. How does one marry the two?
I have been so bogged down with depression that I scarcely have any memory of the past couple of months post birth. I have gone in to hiding, only existing.
Breathing because I have to, looking after the kids because I have to and not doing much else except sleep. That I can manage. Lots and lots of sleep.
So off I went to my GP to get a prescription that is okay to use while breastfeeding, hoping that it will sort of drag me out of this quagmire, only to find that I have lost a month. Seriously? A whole fecking month. Gone.
So it is back to the drawing board.
I have to decide what is more important. My mental health or feeding my son?
I am really proud of the fact that I managed to get the breastfeeding thing right this time around. It is my little life raft that makes me feel like I am not a complete failure as a mother. Call it my mantra if you will. So now what?
I think I will go sleep on it.