It’s been a while since I’ve written. I suppose I’ve not been in a great place. I feel uninspired and unmotivated most days and it just adds to the vicious cycle of already feeling down. I feel like my brain doesn’t work well anymore, the lack of energy is just the norm now.
I keep looking backwards and forwards but find I’m just getting through today. I want to be present but I feel like a shell of myself.
I worry a lot about how my current state will effect my children, especially Little Man. Sometimes I snap at him too much, when my head is throbbing and I can’t answer the same question again. I cry a lot. He sees it. I don’t want this to be our normal.
All I’ve ever wanted was to be a stay at home mother and now I have it and realise how fortunate I am, I sometimes think that I don’t like it. This confuses me because I loved the experience with my boy. I knew then how important my mothering was. I put a lot of value on it but now I just feel like I’m not contributing, that I should be doing more. PND makes me believe that I am not enough and in all honesty, it seems like a continual fight to prove that I am.
I desperately want to feel like myself again, to feel like I’m living and not just surviving, to not be at odds with myself all the time.
My psychologist, L, put it into perspective and explained how me doing what I’m doing with the babes is crucial to their development. Smiling, tickling, playing and caring for them is building their safe place. I liked that. I guess I’ve taken all that I do for granted because, to me, it’s normal – but I could acknowledge how valuable this time was back with LM. On bad days I’ve been feeling like I was replaceable, that another woman could do my job better. I know logically all that isn’t true though. My kids need ME because I’m their Mama Bear, no one else could ever be. Part of my guilt and worry that I’m doing a bad job is because I so desperately want to do a good one.
My kids are clean, dressed and fed. They laugh, smile and are loved. So I guess, Diary, I am a big success at this whole parenting thing after all. And that right there, in a nutshell, is what makes Post Natal Depression such a nasty piece of work. K x