Click here to see the YouTube video I am referencing, "5 Myths About Postpartum Depression".
I know I am sharing a lot of my story lately, and perhaps it’s TMI, but through loss I’ve learned to appreciate that living means sharing our stories, the good and the bad. It is not my intention to share for sympathy, but rather to educate and to let us all know that we are not alone. If in the process I can help someone, however quietly that may be, it will be worth opening up all of the wounds.
My myth centered around #2: That postpartum depression meant we cry all of the time and can’t take care of ourselves. I didn’t really cry and I took care of myself just fine, along with my babies. But I was anxious all of the time, which made me very impatient and I would lash out at my loved ones, who were my husband and my children. I love my babies, but I also felt indifferent toward them and motherhood in general. Then I felt like a bad mother for feeling like that and it became a vicious cycle.
I was already depressed before I had my children. Then I had my children and I became even more depressed > postpartum depression. I also suffered from so much loneliness because I didn’t think anyone could relate to me. So I thought there was something wrong with me, and I internalized and internalized and internalized. Well, I never got treated for any of that, and then life compounded so many many many more things onto my plate. By the time I finally sought treatment, I was clinically depressed.
When I finally admitted in therapy that I think I had postpartum, it felt like a kick in the gut and a pile of bricks was lifted off of my chest, leaving me quite breathless. To this day, I still live there working through it. The hardest part is over: admitting and identifying it, but I know it is an ongoing process.
May we all find our way out of whatever personal hell we are going through. And don't forget, when you're going through hell, keep going. Don't sit down, because it can get very very comfortable.
I know I am sharing a lot of my story lately, and perhaps it’s TMI, but through loss I’ve learned to appreciate that living means sharing our stories, the good and the bad. It is not my intention to share for sympathy, but rather to educate and to let us all know that we are not alone. If in the process I can help someone, however quietly that may be, it will be worth opening up all of the wounds.
My myth centered around #2: That postpartum depression meant we cry all of the time and can’t take care of ourselves. I didn’t really cry and I took care of myself just fine, along with my babies. But I was anxious all of the time, which made me very impatient and I would lash out at my loved ones, who were my husband and my children. I love my babies, but I also felt indifferent toward them and motherhood in general. Then I felt like a bad mother for feeling like that and it became a vicious cycle.
I was already depressed before I had my children. Then I had my children and I became even more depressed > postpartum depression. I also suffered from so much loneliness because I didn’t think anyone could relate to me. So I thought there was something wrong with me, and I internalized and internalized and internalized. Well, I never got treated for any of that, and then life compounded so many many many more things onto my plate. By the time I finally sought treatment, I was clinically depressed.
When I finally admitted in therapy that I think I had postpartum, it felt like a kick in the gut and a pile of bricks was lifted off of my chest, leaving me quite breathless. To this day, I still live there working through it. The hardest part is over: admitting and identifying it, but I know it is an ongoing process.
May we all find our way out of whatever personal hell we are going through. And don't forget, when you're going through hell, keep going. Don't sit down, because it can get very very comfortable.