It hurts. I know. The depletion of your self worth is temporary though. Your baby girl feels the pain radiating from your heart and somehow is able to acknowledge your need for space. Don’t deny her simple, deserving moments of your attention today. . .
Quit tearing yourself down. You set the bar too high for yourself on a good day. Today your just flirting with self sabotage. Break out some crayons. It won’t kill the little guy if he eats a few more and his sassy sister will be entertained in her own precious, pink and purple world of hello kitty. Coloring makes for good conversation…even with these two crazy beings that combined have only graced this earth for 5 little years.
Cut your self some slack. Commit to yourself that whether it is genuine joy you’re feeling or unexpected sadness, you will be authentic about the moment. Shame is no longer holding your nerves hostage. You shed that skin for the last time. The Celexa is helping you to balance the end of that life…don’t fight it.
You’re getting there. Just breathe. Teach your daughter to breathe when frustration gets the best of her. It will save her a lot of grief if she learns how not to implode over life’s minor screw ups early in life. You’re doing the best you can and it’s better than expected…you know that.
Read the rest of the story! Visit Take the Panic Out. A new voice for the new year. | W.T.F.
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
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. My intention in writing this is to have a little more peace in my own heart about what I go through and to hopefully get feedback from other mothers who want/need to share their story. . .
It seems like my depression has gotten more intense after each of my children have been born. I don’t know why. Maybe it is the added stress or the changes to my body’s chemistry. Even though I am able to recognize that funk that seems to cling to me when I am sliding down hill, I can’t prevent it. I have days where I busy the kids with some sort of something so that I can cry in another room where they don’t see me and ask questions. I feel so unworthy of my children’s forgiving love some days. . .
Yes I have good days and No I’m not pretending to be happy. I am a genuinely happy person by nature. And here is a big one. Please take note of this one because it is the worst thing you could ever say to someone like me…Don’t ever assume that a person can “snap out of it”. It’s impossible and you’re being naïve and downright hateful if you think ANYONE would choose to feel the way I have attempted to describe.
Depression looks different to everyone that suffers from it. However, I have learned through personal and professional experience that those that live with it have one thing in common – loneliness. I wish people talked candidly about it. I wish women felt more comfortable and less shame about admitting these type of thoughts and feelings. I just hope that by sharing my story, someone will feel less alone and less shameful.
Read the rest of the story by visiting Depression and Motherhood: This is My Truth. | W.T.F.
Combatting the stigma in order to treat the minds of those that carry a mental health diagnosis is crucial to our society. Especially in a time like now where random acts of violence are mistaken for an opportunity to vilify anyone with a diagnosis and attempts at suicide are labeled “attention seeking behavior”.
I want to do my part in raising awareness so I am taking the “Blog for mental health pledge” and will continue to make my own struggles and knowledge on the matter transparent.
Read the post in its entirety! Visit Alice In Her Own Wonderland. | W.T.F.