This subject feels a bit taboo for me. It seems that we have come to a place in our society where it is safer to talk about living with a mental illness but when you admit to the effects of it while you are raising your children, it seems to make people uncomfortable and judgemental. If that is you then please refrain from reading this post. My truth about struggling with depression and being a mom is not pretty. It’s not a feel good story and it’s a story that continues to evolve. . .
Shortly after that, at the age of 27, I got pregnant. Although I wasn’t a lover of being pregnant, I have to say I was never happier. The boost of hormones were fabulous and I felt great. And then the third trimester happened. I plummeted. I hated myself because how could I be so awfully sad about and ungrateful for the life inside me. I hated that I hated myself. I felt bad for feeling bad.
After my daughter was born, I had the normal baby blues but thankfully it passed and within a few weeks I had fallen in love with my little girl. But then something flipped that switch. The switch that I have learned I have no control over. I became numb, her needs became overwhelming. I became an auto pilot mom. I did what I needed to do but that was about it. This wasn’t the normal, over tired, overwhelmed, new mom effect. This was joyless motions. It was feeling like a failure with every action. This was irrational. I can remember thinking what a piece of shit I was that I wasn’t happy about my beautiful life. To me, at that time, nothing was beautiful. God that hurts to admit.
Read the rest of the story by visiting Depression and Motherhood: This is My Truth. | W.T.F..
Trigger Warning: Suicidal Ideation