The Windfall hit shelves in North America. It was a busy summer of no sleep, high highs, low lows, and a lingering depression and anxiety that was easily explained, or so I thought.
At least I was waking up in the morning and showing up for my publicity events looking pulled together. As long as I was crying behind closed doors and nobody could see me doing it, I was fine.But then the dust settled, the book-related events slowed down, the book took on its own life in the world and I was still breaking into tears at unexpected times.Motherhood didn’t seem to quite fit me.
I tugged at the edges, hoping to pull it into place on my body but it just didn’t work. I felt like an impostor, stumbling over the words “my daughter".