“No, I’m not here about that.” I quickly change the subject and explain little miss and my symptoms.
We’ve been right to visit. It’s a round of antibiotics for both of us.
But the doctor isn’t finished. “So, how are you doing?”
I’m caught off guard.
This isn’t something I want to talk about today. “Things are fine. Yeah. Well, things are
tough but that’s to be expected. Right?
I mean, she’s little, and there’s the job stuff and being so far from
home like I’ve explained before. Soooo I’m…fine….all
things considered. I’m doing okay.” My
eyes betray me. I can feel them glistening with fresh tears.
My doctor turns to my husband, and asks him how I’m doing. His
apologetic look says it all. “From the
outside, she’s doing fine but she’s really good at masking.” He pauses. “Since
she keeps it all in all day, I see her at her worst.” Another long pause and a
look at the doctor. She answers for him.
“Not well then.”
I glaze over in the next bit as it’s all things I’ve heard
before: reassurance that this is normal, that there is no set time on how long
it takes to recover, that is not
something I’ve done or forgotten to do. It is an illness and, like a lot of
others, it will not get better over night. I leave the doctor’s office with a
list of books and websites that may help me in the right direction.
---------------------
I’ve lost that list. I may have accidentally (on purpose?)
thrown it out. Truth is, I was so pissed
off after that appointment that I was determined to suck it up, deal with the fact
that motherhood is not easy, and get over it. I am embarrassed, guilty,
sad, angry to admit that this was just a few weeks ago, OVER A YEAR since I
started getting help for this. I’m still
on anti-depressants but this was supposed to be because I’ve been too lazy to
go up to the doctor and begin decreasing my prescription not because I wasn’t
better. (you can’t just quit them cold turkey but I’ll save the why’s and how’s
for the professionals to explain) I’m working,
my daughter is happy, my husband and I laugh together and I’ve even managed to
be social again. Come on now, with so
much that goes on with raising a baby, surely my struggles are normal at this
point!
Okay okay, I know that’s not all that’s going on. Months ago
I stopped being honest with how I was feeling in terms of being a mom. While
most of the reactions I got were from true empathy, I got so sick of the looks
of pity and plastic smiles. All this did was reinforce how fragile I was. (am?) Besides, trying to function was impossible with
my emotions getting in the way all the time.
I hit survival mode and steeled all that baggage away. I thought I’d found the magical
solution. Dwelling on all these feelings was just making me a sappy mess
and who needs it? Sure my creative side
thrives on me letting that part of my brain do the driving but for now, the
practical, technical, logical side seems to be getting things done just fine.
It wasn’t until my doctor asked me how I was doing that it
all crumbled. I have to admit I’m
surviving but I’m also in denial. I had
post natal depression. I’ve come to terms with that. I still have post-natal depression. Coming to terms with that is what I need to
work on. Covering it up may let me
function but not dealing with it means it’s not going away. Since talking about it means facing those
empathetic looks and touchy-feely conversations, I’m not willing to try that
again yet. But exploring my thoughts
seems like a good way to get to the bottom of it. See, there’s another thing I must admit. I know
it’s not something I did or one factor that caused me to develop this stupid
flipping, why won’t it go away illness, but I haven’t accepted it. Not really. Any
other challenge I’ve ever had has been conquered by hard work and
determination. Why can’t it work with
this? (see what I’m battling here?)
So here I am. Hearing
other people’s experiences with post natal depression was the thing that helped
me most when I was really struggling so I want to share mine in hopes I can help
others in a similar place. However, I
also still need help myself. I need to face up to these feelings and writing
about it will force me to do it. I still
need to hear that it’s okay that I sometimes I still feel like I’m a worthless
mother, that I feel like I’ve failed professionally and at home, that some days
I really don’t want to be a mom at all, that when I drop low, I often drop
scarily low and become detached like I’m back in those first few weeks. I want to hear that I am not alone, that
others feel this way, that they find this journey long and hard, that some have
been in my shoes and have come out the other side. It’ll take a bit for me to ease into spilling
my guts but I’ll get there, that’s the plan. So please read and please comment but be
gentle. I’m new at this.
