This is why I love the internet. I started this site 5 minutes ago and already received a private message asking about my experience with Post Partum Depression. It was from a first time mom trying to navigate this little blip of hell. She asked if I could touch a bit more on the subject; what I felt like, what I went through and most importantly, how I got through it.
Long story short, it’s hell, it’s not your fault, you did absolutely nothing to bring it on & if you are going through it right now, none of this will feel true. I get it. It is a deep, dark hole that is refusing to let you crawl out. But you will!
And before you tell me the doctors aren’t making you feel better and the shrinks aren’t either, I get it. Right now you’re thinking these people are trained and paid to say certain things to make you feel better. But once you get over this hump, and you will, you will realize these people are saints on freaking earth. It just takes time. And right now those baby rabies have a tight hold over you.
Here’s a quick peak into my experience. I basically could not function without overwhelming thoughts that something bad was going to happen. The anxiety and dark, intrusive thoughts kept me from sleeping and eating (I lost a ton of weight). I cried a lot. I was convinced something bad was going to happen to either myself or my kids. It got to a point where I couldn’t be alone. My husband had to take a leave of absence from work and once he had to go back, my parents took turns staying with me. I felt like I needed someone there for when something bad happened. I went to doctors and therapists who told me I needed to go on medication but I refused and i’d quit them and see someone new. Then the new one would tell me the same so I’d find someone else. Then one day I went to a new therapist who told me, fine, don’t get help, that I would eventually hit rock bottom and only then would I want help. And man was she right. I’ll never forget it & I can still play it over perfectly in my head to this day.
So one night while everyone in the house was asleep, except for me, I had awful anxiety and was definitely not sleeping. I went into the kitchen around 2 am because I needed to cry and I didn’t want to wake anyone. Once I got there my mind was completely taken over by horrible intrusive thoughts. The worst and most intense yet. I went right to where we kept all the sharp knives. I looked at them, ran my hands over them. The weirdest part was it was like I was watching my body from above doing this. It felt like it wasn’t actually me doing it…if that makes sense. But it was in that moment that I knew this wasn’t getting any better, it was only getting worse. This was the first time I had thoughts of hurting myself.
And there it was…my rock bottom. I paged my therapist the next morning (it was a Sunday) and she called in meds immediately. It took some time but day by day I started to feel like my old self again. I went to therapy. I learned to talk about it and not be ashamed or embarrassed. It’s a very real thing. So please, never be afraid to talk about it. Don’t shy away from it. And absolutely do not feel ashamed. I promise you in talking about it, you will find someone that gets it. I come from a family with absolutely no history of any mental illness, so they had NO clue how to navigate this. They tried for sure, but it wasn’t enough. However, I have a dear, dear friend who has dealt with their share of struggles in this department. They became my saving grace. I owe them so much, they were my lifeline. Try and find a person you can open up to. The worst thing you can do is bottle it all up.
It’s not 1965 anymore, this stuff is real and there are plenty of people dealing with it. There are so many resources available. The hardest part is acknowledging that you need help.
I wish you all the best and I am here to help guide the best I can. I mean, y’all, we bleed for 7 days and don’t die, then grow an actual human being in our bodies, we GOT this.
Cheers mamas!
