Big Sigh
Warning: This post is going to be a mess. A big, embarrassing mess.
I’ve been sitting on a blog post for weeks now, editing and revising and tweaking, but ultimately I’ve been too chicken to hit “publish.” But I have to say something. So I figure I’ll just do what I do best, which is:
- Open mouth
- Eject verbal diarrhea
- Regret everything I’ve said
- Insert foot in open mouth
- Remove foot
- Eat humble pie
We have been here two weeks, and I haven’t felt like writing before, since that first day.
I am sitting by the window now, up in this atrocious nursery, and there is nothing to hinder my writing as much as I please, save lack of strength.
John is away all day, and even some nights when his cases are serious. I am glad my case is not serious!
But these nervous troubles are dreadfully depressing.
John does not know how much I really suffer. He knows there is no reason to suffer, and that satisfies him. Of course it is only nervousness. It does weigh on me so not to do my duty in any way! I meant to be such a help to John, such a real rest and comfort, and here I am a comparative burden already!
Nobody would believe what an effort it is to do what little I am able,–to dress and entertain, and order things.
***
I’m not doing very well.
Repeat: I’m not doing very well. At all.
This is not “man, I’m kinda down,” or “ugh, I need more sleep,” or “I should get out of the house more often.” This is “I’m really really really in desperate need of HELP.” Like, bad. Like, I need an intravenous injection of happiness to make this stop.
I’ve struggled (blah, I hate that word) the better (or worse) part of my life with depression. It’s my “thing.” Some people have allergies. Some people have arthritis. Me? I’m depressed. I have depression. It waxes and wanes, but it’s always always always there.
Depression is a difficult thing (disease? disorder? illness?) to live with, not only because it makes my life harder, but it also complicates the lives of those around me. They don’t get it. Don’t I know I’m a drag when I’m depressed? Why can’t I just snap out of it? Why can’t I just think happy thoughts? Exercise? Eat vegetables? Take vitamins? Get out in the sunshine more often?
It doesn’t work that way. This is something broken. Inside. In my brains. Something short circuiting, something misfiring. It’s something far far far beyond a sad mood. It’s an emptiness in the middle of my chest. A shriveling gut. A longing. A desperation.
Although I’m used to dealing with these feelings, there’s something about this trip around that’s far more intense than I’ve experienced in probably a decade. Hormones are probably contributing. Major life changes. Intense loneliness. Etc.
But man. It’s kicking my ass.
On a pattern like this, by daylight, there is a lack of sequence, a defiance of law, that is a constant irritant to a normal mind.
The color is hideous enough, and unreliable enough, and infuriating enough, but the pattern is torturing.
You think you have mastered it, but just as you get well underway in following, it turns a back somersault and there you are. It slaps you in the face, knocks you down, and tramples upon you. It is like a bad dream.
***
I’ve held back saying anything here for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that mothers aren’t supposed to be depressed.
Oh sure, some moms are alcoholics and abusers and users and cheaters. Some moms are lonely and sad and unfulfilled. Some moms regret becoming moms. Some end up in the psycho tank.
But that’s always someone else, right?
As much theoretical awareness as there is of the psychological complexities of motherhood and womanhood and femaleness, when you deviate from the idealized role of Mother (Mother, Mother), you become marginalized. Castigated. Branded. Feared. Nobody wants to let their kids around you. You’re unstable and bound to snap at any moment. Next thing you know, you’re the main character in a Charlotte Perkins Gilman short story.
You’ve exposed a weakness in the socially constructed role of Mother.
But I know I’m not the only one.
The front pattern does move–and no wonder! The woman behind shakes it!
Sometimes I think there are a great many women behind, and sometimes only one, and she crawls around fast, and her crawling shakes it all over.
Then in the very bright spots she keeps still, and in the very shady spots she just takes hold of the bars and shakes them hard.
And she is all the time trying to climb through. But nobody could climb through that pattern–it strangles so; I think that is why it has so many heads.
***
Big, huge signpost here: I am not a threat to my kids or my family or myself. I don’t want to hurt anyone. My kids have zero to do with this. I feel no hatred or resentment or negativity toward them at all. So you can put the phone down, thanks.
***
I’m going to see someone tonight. As with all other shrinks I’ve seen throughout the years, I’m going to introduce myself with five minutes of bullet points about my past, my depression, my current feelings. I will smile. I’ll make self-deprecating jokes. I’ll laugh. I won’t shed a tear because SEE I’VE GOT IT TOGETHER DAMMIT. I’ve done this before. A million times.
The thing is, this time, I’m nursing. I would like to avoid prescription meds if at all possible.
The thing is, my brains are probably beyond herbs.
The thing is, I’ve waited too long to get help this time and it’s very desperate.
This thing.
But there is something else about that paper– the smell! I noticed it the moment we came into the room, but with so much air and sun it was not bad. Now we have had a week of fog and rain, and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here.
It creeps all over the house.
I find it hovering in the dining-room, skulking in the parlor, hiding in the hall, lying in wait for me on the stairs.
It gets into my hair.
Even when I go to ride, if I turn my head suddenly and surprise it–there is that smell!
40 comments
sending you all the love and hugs you can handle, grrrrr.
i wish you luck at your appointment. and i’m proud of you for writing this. your strength is astounding and will help others also in need.
Sending you virtual support. Also, I’m not sure what it says about me, but The Yellow Wallpaper is my favorite short story.
Call me if you need to. I hope we can hang this weekend, but I understand if you need to lay low and reduce things like, I dunno, driving for two hours with two infants.
Love you lady.
You are amazing.
That’s not supposed to help, as I know it won’t, but you should know your writing may help you.
That’s not advice from me, just something you know that I’m sure you need reminded of.
If it helps, know there are people on the interwebs with open ears to help.
This is the first post I’ve read of yours, but I want to say that if you ever need someone to talk to – someone whose been (it seems quite literally) everywhere you’ve been and come out of where you’re feeling to another side, you are always welcome to shoot me an email. I hope you get some relief soon.
I’ve had depression for ten years and got PPD pretty bad after our son was born. We were too broke for me to see a shrink but funny how we made $1,500 more a year than the qualifying amount to get free help. Good times. So I went back on my meds (not nursing at that point) and it helped. I know it’s a bandaid and I NEED therapy but we can’t swing it right now. Sucks. And I still struggle with The Dark Place regularly.
I HOPE I hope I hope going to see someone helps in some way. Just know you’re brave for talking about it and you’re a GOOD MOM because of it too. Asking for help is a big huge deal.
HUGS!
Hi, I found this post via Twitter. I could have written this post myself. I could still write it everyday.
I’m not sure what it is about depression that makes us feel so…
You’re not alone.
It’s sucks to be depressed and not be able to fix it.
I’ll send good vibes and sunshine your way.
I understand your words more than you will ever realize. I have a blog post of my own brewing. Not published out of embarrassment or some admission of defeat. Whatever. I needed help. I sought it out. I’m on drugs. They’re not working. I feel like it’s getting worse. My husband doesn’t get it. I don’t want to tell anyone close to me. I feel stuck.
I understand. If you want to email me, feel free. Otherwise, please know that you’re not alone and that I will be thinking of you.
Having dealt with and somehow surviving the trainwreck of PPD, I’m here via MommyMelee to offer you a virtual hug and a big wet kiss on the cheek.
I don’t want to be all “don’t worry girl, you can make it!” because really, it’s a day by day struggle to stay on the right side of the line between batshit crazy and sanity. But I can say that, despite the fact that I don’t know you, I’m proud of you for recognizing and admitting these feelings.
I ran away from my symptoms and put on a good show for my family and friends for so long that I almost believed that I was a-okay….until one night I snapped and hurled myself right over that invisible line into crazy town.
So – again big hugs and good luck with your therapist tonight! I hope you’re able to get the help you need.
I’m so sorry. I’ve been there too. I hope in a few weeks you can look back at this post and think, HEY! I MADE IT! {hugs}
I’m the same as Nic. Writing something personal takes a lot of courage and so I too am deeply proud of you for getting it out.
Your writing is very, very powerful and touched me in a personal way. I hope your appointment results in something which might soothe your desperation that isn’t seated in drugs and medication.
From my heart to yours, I’m really wishing you luck and sending as many positive vibes as I can muster.
Hugs. There are prescription drugs that are perfectly safe with breastfeeding. It doesn’t have to be or the other.
http://kellymom.com/health/meds/antidepressants-hale10-02.html
Girl, I have been there!!! PPD sucks! I will be praying for you to be released from the vice of darkness (as I lovingly referred to it back then) soon. In the meantime, if you need to stop nursing to be able to take meds- do it! Your babies need a healthy, happy mama more than they need nursed (I say this from personal experience). Please feel free to email me or @ me if you are on Twitter and need to talk ANYTIME! (I am @multitaskingme)
Depression is a fucking bitch. I know. She lives in my head too. Prozac helps, alcohol numbs, running away is only temporary, committing suicide is too permanent, shrinks are just as messed up and I have found no cure thus far. It helps to surround yourself with other crazies though. So I’ll check back in on you in awhile. You are NOT alone.
I am not a doctor, nor am I a mental health professional of any kind. But I am a mom, a wife, and a woman. So, this is what support I can provide…
I would like to offer myself as a verbal punching bag after you’ve read the following “feel better” platitudes (you know, those “cheery” things people always say when you are upset or just pissed):
1. This too shall pass.
2. Hang in there, kid!
3. There are starving children in Africa.
4. Count your blessings.
5. There are starving children in China.
Now…go ahead…HIT ME!
See – feels better, huh?!
Oh – and now for reality – here is my response to all those glorious platitudes:
1. But what if it doesn’t?
2. My hands are starting to hurt.
3. And that’s supposed to make me feel BETTER?!
4. OK – 1, 2, 3…ummm – OK this may be a good one, concede.
5. HOW THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MAKE ANYBODY FEEL BETTER?! EVER?!
I understand that you are struggling (yucky word, I know) and I hope you do know you’re not alone. All of us strangers are here – and believe it or not, we actually do care. About little old you. Seriously. So, YELL on your blog, verbally kick depression’s ass, and don’t be embarrassed! – we’ll still be here – and we’ll still be pulling for YOU!
Oh – and sorry for the comment novel. I really like comments.
I usually don’t pimp out my own posts in comments, but I want to share one with you because you said you’re not the only one and you’re right. There are many many many of us. We depressed mothers. We are walking through it like fog and it is a great feat that we even pull on clothes or lift a cup to our lips or wipe bums or nurse babies. It is a wonder that we do any one thing at all. A miracle of strength. I’m sorry you’re feeling it.
OK, so I said that thing about linking to my own post and now I can’t get it to work. If you click over to my blog, it’s called Passing the Bed. So if you feel like doing all this work (ha, I’m hilarious) you could put Passing the Bed in the Search box in the sidebar on my blog and it should come up.
I’ll go away now…
Honey, today I posted a much less eloquent diatribe on my own blog saying much the same thing. I’m not coping either. I’m also nursing and don’t want medication and I have no logical reason to feel this way other than my stupid brain not getting the right chemicals where they’re supposed to be.
A friend posted this on my blog:
A friend online wrote this about PND, it is so RIGHT (if that makes sense…). You WILL get the blue sky back.
~~~~
Imagine walking through a lovely meadow. The sun shining. Looking up at a beautiful sky. Bright blue, lots of fluffy white clouds drifting by. Butterflies fluttering amongst the buttercups and daisies. Your fingers brushing the tips of the long grass as you walk…..and then suddenly, you stumble.
You manage to catch yourself after faltering for a bit. You dust yourself down, and keep on walking, admiring the beautiful surroundings. You stumble again, this time falling into a deep, unmarked pit. You keep falling and falling, grabbing out and flailing wildly to try and get a grip on something, anything. After what seems like forever, you stop your slide downwards and hit rock bottom. You are exhausted from your sudden and unexpected decent into darkness.
Before you know where you are, and what has happened, you are at the bottom of a deep hole with no idea how you got there or how to get out. You can see a chink of light in the top, but its quite far away, and you cant trust that the chink of light is the only way out, but you claw towards it anyway, even though you are exhausted and bruised and battered from your fall.
Its a lonely time in this hole. Only you and the darkness. You couldnt see anyone else even if they were there, because of the darkness and coldness of your environment. But once you realise where you are, you know you have to clamber out and,` if you are lucky, someone will pass by and offer a hand of help to pull you out.
Despite being exhausted, and bruised and battered, you clamber you way to the top, and you finally make your way out of the hole. Yet you are still shocked and stunned by what happened. How could you miss such a big hole in front of you? Why couldnt you see it coming? How come no-one before you has fallen into this hole (you think) and not thought to block it up? Many people before you has managed to walk through the meadow without falling into this pit, why couldnt you have seen it coming, or prevented it, or just had a better journey?
You are stood, standing in this beautiful meadow, but all you can think about is the dark hole that you have just fallen into and clambered out of, how sore and aching your body is, and how tired you are. The beauty around you means nothing for a while. But you are grateful to be out, and you realise you should appreciate the beautiful surroundings.
You keep walking, but you find yourself no longer admiring the sky, the clouds, the butterflies, the flowers. You are busy looking at your feet. Concentrating hard, because, you dont want to fall into another pit, and waylaid by your aching bones and tired body.
You lose sight of all the beautiful things around you because you are continuing your journey looking only down at the ground, on alert for danger. You dont appreciate the sky, the clouds, the flowers, the butterflies, because you are too scared of falling down another hole, you still have the bruises from the last fall.
You are terrified that, if you take your eyes off terra firma for a moment, you could slip down that hole again and you wont find your way out so easily this time.
It is a long, lonely journey, spent staring at the ground, before you trust your surroundings, and your instincts enough again to appreciate your journey, and realise its beauty. To wander through the meadow staring at the beautiful blue sky and fluffy white clouds.
Also, if you feel that medication might be right for you then you can find out which medications are safest by checking up Medication & Mother’s Milk by Thomas Hale. The breastfeeding community on Livejournal has many mothers who own this book who are happy to look up and share the info with you
x
Please, please do not hide. We are not here to judge. Write, write, write. It does help in times like these.
Severe PPD. We have been intimate, too intimate for comfort. The thoughts, the fear, the anxiety that danced through my head were soul crushing and left my brains scrambled. The details are unimportant. What was important was that I got help…. and I was brutally honest with my doctors for the first time (I too have been there and smiled and put on the see I have it all together face).
Please, don’t show that face tonight. It will just set you back from progress you need to be making now. Be honest. They are there to help you sort it all out, not to judge you.
HUGS to you. And really, if you need an ear, don’t hesitate to write me an email. It might seem strange, as we don’t know each other, but I feel very strongly on supporting those suffering with PPD after what I have been through. Use my ear if you need.
I too am here via MommyMelee to say kudos to you for having the guts to write this post! Thank you for saying it out loud and not being afraid to say it and do something about it. Having dealt with what you’re describing for the most part of life, your post really spoke to me. I’m sending good thoughts and hopes your way!
I commend you for having the guts to even write about what you’re doing through.
Sending you lots of virtual hugs lady!
Dude. My PPD manifested as some wicked anger. Then anxiety. Then actually depression.
And like you would hurt yourself or anyone else, who has the energy for THAT kind of effort?
I took zoloft from the time Alex was 9 months old through now. He nursed at least 9 months after I went on it. I just took it at a time it would be at its highest concentration in my while he was sleeping.
Hi! *waves*
I’ve never met you before, but I wanted to tell you your post resonated with me. I’ve dealt with major major “downs” in my life. All my life. I’ve never been diagnosed with depression but it certainly wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve had some major struggles since the birth of my third child, three months ago. I’ve often wondered if I needed to get help. But then the clouds would part and angels would sing and I’d have a good day or three. But it keeps coming back. That horrible cloak of dreariness that hangs over my head, too heavy to shake off. It doesn’t help that we’re a one-car family and so I’m stuck in the house all day. Every day.
So if you want to chat, feel free to reach out. This crap kid of stinks, huh?
Holy hell! I’m really sorry you are going through this. I can’t offer anything in the way of advice but realize you have our full support. If you two need *ANYTHING* (Including getting out of the house etc.) Let us know. We can be there in 2 hours and will gladly watch the girls or whatever you need!
Oh, how my heart goes out to you. I am so glad that you know the symptoms and can get help as soon as you can. I too have suffered from various strengths of depression all my life, but NOTHING like I had after my first baby (mild) but the second was devastating. You described the feelings so perfectly in that post, it’s like I could immediately identify with everything you said. And it’s hard to describe, esp to others who have no idea of the depths to which it can take you.
If you can, let your husband know how bad it’s got and see if there is any way you can get some temporary help to give you time to heal. We had to do that for a month or two as I have NO family in the country. My husband didn’t like it very much I was a SAHM, but the doctor told him either get help or she’d admit me to a hospital. It was worth every penny just to get a little relief every day. I also stayed with a close friend for three nights when things got really rough (I couldn’t sleep at all) and she just nurtured me and fed me and made me take care of myself. That eventually did the trick. I also hated to give up breastfeeding it was very, very hard but I had no choice in the end. Your little ones will benefit from you feeling better, even if you have to compromise on the feeding. They will be fine and perfect anyway. But I so feel your pain in having to abandon it – it almost broke my heart.
I hope that you can get some relief soon and some help. Husbands find it so hard to understand how incapacitating this can be when you have to continue being there for everyone else and you yourself feel like you’re drowning.
Please email me anytime at irishsamom@msn.com and I will give you my phone number. A girl that had been through exactly what I had and had come through the other side was the one who really, really helped me realise I would feel better eventually. My counselor gave her my number and it was the best support I got – knowing she had walked my path.
Take care sweet lady and please contact me if you would like. I am a good listener and totally relate to everything you wrote which was beautifully written if I may say that about such a terrible, insiduous disease.
Hope and good wishes and love,
Tricia
I hate the whole, moms are supposed to be happy, bullshit line. The fact is A LOT of mothers suffer from depression and if you have dealt with it in the past, having a baby(ies) increases the risk of PPD. I had it after the birth of my 2nd and 3rd boys. I tried to deal on my own, but I just couldn’t. There are drugs that are safe with nursing! Will be thinking of you!
An amazing post, I am in awe that you would be brave enough to write about it. I dealt with depression and PPD myself, worse the first time around and felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. Thank you for sharing, and I wish you better times ahead.
How long has it been since you gave birth, 2 weeks? I am new to your blog and found it via someone’s tweet.
I can totally relate to what you’ve written. I was there about 6 weeks ago and felt like the world was ending. It totally is hormonal but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.
Are you getting out of the house and away from the babes once a day? I know having time away, to relax and do something for myself helped. I didn’t start feeling like my usual (non hormonal/ depressed self) until about a month or so after my daughter was born.
When my hormones regulated so did my moods.
Hugs, it does get better! Keep blogging what you feel, it will help to get it out and know that you’ll come though this!
I am here because of a tweet I read. I wanted to give you support & let you know that you are NOT alone. I have PPD. It has been one of the most difficult things I have gone through. I recently wrote about it as well & I’m available to “talk” via email, even if you don’t know me. I am offering because I know how hard it is to come forward with this, having other women come forward & let me know they had gone through this helped me so much. Just to know I wasn’t alone & didn’t have to deal with this shit in silence.
But speaking its name caused fear in me, as if naming it would give it power. When really it was my first step (in a journey I am walking through daily, some days are good & some are still rough but there are more good now than bad) in taking me back. You are taking back YOU.
And I second Kelly’s link, there are medications that are safe while breastfeeding. I myself ended up having to opt for that route, because it had gotten to that point. My skin felt foreign to me, I was an outsider looking in. I didn’t want to harm anyone either when I went in, but it was a disconnect that felt unbearable.
Anyway, I am rambling but wanted to let you know that you are NOT alone.
You did such an amazing job putting it into words. My midwife recognized I was struggling before I even left the hospital and recommended I have follow up care. For what must have been the first two weeks of my son’s life I remember crying nonstop and practically screaming at my husband “I NEED help!” He would just worriedly ask “what is making you depressed?” No matter how many times I try to explain it he still can’t really understand. Eight months out I have my good days and some not so good days. Luckily none as bad as that first two weeks. With a newborn (that either screamed or nursed 24/7) I didn’t even feel like I had the option to make time to get help. I know I still need to be seeing someone but like others have said it is hard to find room in the budget or schedule for ongoing appointments. You are not alone in this fight. The network of moms online has been a very real lifesaver for me. And they don’t even charge co-pays!
Something that might help is forcing (because men won’t go) your husband to go to therapy with you. He needs to hear what this is doing to you because unless they live it they don’t get it. But maybe he’ll understand more. (I’ve got the kind of depression that never goes away, but it helped him to understand).
Just wanted to say I read this, I hear you. I can’t imagine how hard this is.
I am currently breastfeeding and on Zoloft for the same thing. I would be happy to talk to you anytime. It will get better…keep reaching out. Maybe have your husband read this post. Good luck.
I have suffered from depression for years, but didn’t realize it until I got PDD. I am so incredibly impressed by your courage and honesty here. I am so frightened for you, beause I have been there, so many times. It chokes.as a matter of fact, I’m fighting it right now….my med isn’t working, I feel myself folding back into myself, away from others, to my dark place. It’s so awful. There are meds that are safe when nursing.I hope that you feel some relief after your appt. Hugs to you. You are NOT alone.
I don’t know if it helps to hear these comments, but a lot of us have been where you are. I thought I knew what depression was, but it turns out I had no idea how bad it could get until I had my son.
And dammit, I do feminist theory for a living. I’m supposed to know that popular constructions of “Mother” are just that–constructions. Gilman? Taught her for years. But no amount of academic work prepares you for the reality of being a depressed mom.
The best you can do is what you’re already doing: talk it out, write it out if you can (remember, the worst thing that happened to Gilman is that her first doctor made her stop writing), and ask for help.
I have suffered from depression from my early teen.. I didn’t lable it as that I jsut figured that the way I ticked.. you are supposed to be depressive as a teen right? its normal… or so I thought … when I moved from California to England I became very depressed but my husband was wonderful and though he didn’t really “get” it he still stood by me and my “homesickness” ….things weren’t too bad for a while until I became pregnant with my son (now 5) I had hyperemisis quite badly.. and couldn’t work, go out, and was in the hospital for awhile on a drip feed… I was never asked how I felt by anyone doctors, midwives, Heath Visitors.. mostly I jsut felt sick and alone.. I didn’t have many friends here and my parents refused to travel to visit me… I was stuck in the house all day… i didn’t think about depression because the sickness was sitting so heavy on my chest soffocating me…. after I had my son I felt fine… for awhile…. until the stress of potty training triggered the depression and I just cried and cried for days on end and couldn’t do anything to help myself or my family… I went to my doctor and got a prescription for anti-depressants which worked.. I took them for a year and seemed to come out ok for awhile but the last year or two I keep slipping into the black.. or maybe clinging grey fog would be closer to how I feel… I know being homesick for the states and my parents and friends there affects me alot… every day is a struggle sometimes … writing helps and talking with friends… most of my friends are online and just typeing it out helps… I just wanted to say that I know… and that there are so many out there that have felt the same way…
I have nothing personal to add, but wanted you to know that another person is thinking of you. Good luck.
Your frustration is totally understandable. You deserve proper help with a therapist who specializes in this field. For many reasons, moms of mulitples are high risk for depression in pregnancy as well as postpartum depression, and there are simple, specific steps you can take right now to alleviate your depression as well as to help prevent mood problems postpartum
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