I wrote this post after a particularly distressing spiral period over and after Christmas. I’m not sure why I didn’t post it at the time, it just felt too raw. I considered saving it and simply posting on my next bad day, perhaps anxious that this sane run I’ve been having was too good to be true. I’ve been feeling better lately and keep wondering if the PND cloud has actually finally lifted. Regardless of whether it has or not, I wanted to honour my journey. I want to keep a record and I want to support other women, other couples who are experiencing the same as me – as us. As I sit and write this paragraph I can hand on heart say I feel absolutely fine but I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to say that tomorrow. So, I’m publishing this post because I’ve made a promise to myself that on the next bad day I will pick up that phone and call my doctor.
Post Natal Depression has been one of the worst experiences of my life. I genuinely thought I’d be on the mend by now but the past few weeks have been tough, it doesn’t seem to be backing down. Rather than the general sense of the dark cloud surrounding me everyday like the beginning half of last year I’ve found that the bad days are further apart, but when I do have one it’s beyond awful.
The panic attacks and anxiety of last year have seemed to subside but I’m still left with this deep, I don’t know if I would call it sadness, just a strange numbness and helplessness. During the bad times – because sometimes it doesn’t last for the whole day – I can feel really detached from the girls. I hate that the most. In my irrational mind I wonder why I haven’t bonded with them, if I even love them and do they even know who I am, would they even miss me? This cycle is what really clinches the overwhelming feeling of despair for me because I want to feel all of those happy instinctual bonds we obviously have ALL THE TIME, like I did with Little Man. I don’t want to keep questioning whether I love my girls enough because at times it feels like I can’t handle being around them. That’s the cruellest thing about PND, what it makes you question and doubt.
Raising LM was hard because I was by myself for the week while Hubby worked away but it was also very beautiful. I can count on one hand the number of times I actually felt frustrated or had wishful musings of life before baby. During bad days I find myself going there quite a bit, more so to when it was just the three of us. Life just seemed so much easier.
On good days things run smoothly. I play, I love, I laugh. I get sh*t done! I feel my normal again and it’s wonderful. The naturally positive outlook and bubbly personality I used to take for granted feels like a luxury sometimes.
After much thought, well, desperation really, I’ve decided that I can’t do it alone anymore. I need help and more than counselling. If my brain chemicals are out of balance then medication will hopefully help. I don’t want to live like this anymore – disjointed and confused. I actually want to feel like I am living and not just surviving from one good day to another.
I suppose, I’m scared though. I’m fearful of the unknown. I’ve never had to have medication of this nature before and I’m worried about what will actually happen to me on them. What if I lose the inspiration to write? What if I don’t feel like myself anymore? In all honesty I’m really nervous and scared to take them but I’m also getting to the point where I’m frightened not to.