A pile of neuroses

I have come to realized that my baseline is a constant state of worry.  Since having Bronwyn my anxieties have gotten worse.

I get stuck in these loops are terrible things that happen to children; the real life monsters lurking in the shadows.  I worry there will be a fire, and I won't be able to get to them.  And it's weird stuff that sets this off, putting Bertie's underwear away, seeing a picture of a smiling child.  And the less weird things that set it off, terrible stories, events, accidents.

Then there are the "normal" worries:

• Am I giving Bertram enough attention since baby came along?
• Is the baby getting enough interactive time with me?
• Do I hover too much in an effort to keep them safe?
• Am I doing enough with Bertram, intellectually?  I can't get him to write letters or draw, he only wants to draw "marble mazes," which are scribbles.
• Will I ever lose the baby weight (or even some of it)?
• Will I ever feel like having sex again?
• Why can't I make myself exercise?
• Why does Bertram wake up in the middle of the night (almost every night)?
• Will we ever be able to have a decent amount in our savings account?
• How can I make friends?
• Why does everyone else seem like they're having so much fun?
• Will I ever feel successful?
• Am I taking the time to do self care? (no.) How can I make time?
• Will I stopped feeling gypped by my experience with Bronwyn's birth?
• Will the house ever look un-exploded?
• Why doesn't Bronwyn poop very often?
• Why is my comfort zone so uncomfortable?
• How much of this can be attributed to PPD?  How much is just me?
• Does anyone ever feel "good enough"?  If so, how?

Then there is envy.  I was thinking about an acquaintance from church, and how seemingly perfect things are for her. She and her husband own a beautiful house, their kids are well behaved, and speak two languages.  They can jet off for international travel without much saving.  The kids are in various private lessons.  She's beautiful, thin, and is always well dressed (even in yoga pants and a t-shirt. (How do people do that?) And I felt so jealous.  Then I felt like a shitty person for feeling jealous.  No one should begrudge anyone else's happiness.  Plus, I, of course, don't know what is going on inside her head.

Anyway, I just wanted to get it all out, in hopes I would feel a little better. But I don't.  I need to email my shrink.

(PS- Don't get too worried.  I'm not suicidal, or anything.  Just sad, and anxious).