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Happy BeyDay y'all 💕👸🏾

Shawn's POV 5 days later

This has been the hardest couple of days of my entire life. It started with cleaning my wife's blood off of the bathroom floor, and things haven't really looked up since.

I've been going to see Beyoncé every day, and every day is awful. Every day she has panic attacks, every day she cries and tells me to go away and tells me how mad at me she is. I don't know what to do anymore.

They diagnosed her with severe postpartum depression and anxiety and sleep deprivation. The postpartum depression and anxiety leads to sleep deprivation, which just leads to more depression and anxiety, so it's a vicious cycle. Her psychiatrist said that she started on her antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications, but that it can take a while for her body to adjust to the meds and it takes some time to find the right dosage and everything, so we may not see any improvement for a little bit.

Every day I hope and pray that things will be different, but so far nothing has changed.

I just dropped the kids off at my moms, like I've been doing every day while I visit her. My mom has been amazing and so helpful, and she's the only one that knows what happened.

The twins ask every day where their mom is. I told them that she is sick, but she is at the hospital to get better. Of course they ask to go see her all the time and cry to me about how much they miss her, but I tell them that they can't see her because she doesn't want to get them sick.

Skai still doesn't know. She texts me every day to ask how Bey is doing, so I've been lying, I just don't know how to tell her. I know that it won't be long before Skai comes to the house and then I'll probably have to tell her the truth, but I'd love to be able to tell her that her mom is actually getting help and getting better, and not have to lie about it. I don't want to have tell her that she's is in a psychiatric unit against her will and that every time I visit her she yells about how much she can't stand me and wants me to go away.

So yeah, like I said, the past couple days have been the hardest days of my life.

I got to the hospital and got my visitor ID before walking down the hall to her room.

When I opened the door, she looked at me with no emotion, not acknowledging my presence.

She was sitting in her bed with The View playing on the TV.

"Hey," I said, and tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away without saying anything.

I sighed and sat down in a chair next to her. We sat in uncomfortable silence while I tried to think of something to say.

"How's therapy been going?" I asked, trying to start a conversation.

She rolled her eyes and ignored the question, "How are my children?"

"They're doing well, Bey. They miss you. Do you want to see some pictures I took this week?" I asked, pulling out my phone.

"No," she said pushing my phone away, "I don't wanna see pictures of them, I want to go home and see them."

"Beyoncé," I said putting my hand on her leg, which she quickly swatted away. "That's why you're here, so you can get better and go home and be with them, okay?"

"This is so ridiculous," she said as tears came to her eyes, "This shit isn't helping, Shawn."

"Then what would help you? Tell me what you want me to do."

She shook her head, "Just go away...please."

She looked at me with such sadness in her eyes that it broke me. "Okay," I said.

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