Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Pathways Forward

If you’re new here, I suggest you check out a few previous posts beginning here, then here, then here.
Okay…you’re all caught up!
If you’re a previous reader…welcome back! I’m so glad I haven’t scared you away yet.
I wish I could say my journey with PPD ended the moment I decided thought I might have PPD. It doesn’t though.
The moment I took the plunge and thought to myself ‘let’s just Google a little about PPD;’ I began a whole new world of internal struggle. (For those of you not aware…I have a love affair with Google...and coffee…and chocolate…and oh I’ll just stop there!)
The very fact that I was willing to do more research even though I had read so much about it before made me angry. In my mind if I had PPD, I would have picked up on the signs already. I started denying the possibility almost as soon as I accepted it as a possibility.
I Googled to try and prove myself wrong. I didn’t succeed.
So, my next step naturally was to talk to friends.
They know me well. They know how I normally am. They’ll know that I’m just over reacting.
I was wrong again. My friends, the lovely women that they are, assured me I needed to seek medical advice.
I was angry. (Are you picking up a theme here?)
I wish the decision was so easy from there. I’m a little bit stubborn however and fought continuously with myself. I would convince myself that there was nothing wrong with me.
Every mother goes through this, I’d tell myself. I’d think that I wanted there to be something wrong so that I had an excuse for it not being easy. I’d convinced myself that my husband would judge me if I felt I couldn’t cope.
I never told him. I never expressed that I was struggling, that I was angry, that I was scared. I kept it hidden. I got up, I worked out, I went about my day, and I cleaned, cooked, did laundry and put a smile on my face when he got home. The sad part was I wasn’t hiding it as well as I convinced myself I was.
We fought constantly. Every little thing he did set me off. I cried because he wasn’t there helping me and I wanted out the door the moment he got home. Nothing he did was good enough because it was I who was failing myself. I blamed him for me struggling and I nagged about everything.
All of this added onto some already real stress factors in our marriage created some heavy cracks.
I started seeing the fabric of my life ripping at the seams. I’m supposed to be the strong one holding us together. I finally took the plunge, secretly however.
Lil Mister was sick and needed to see the doctor to clear up a sinus infection. I made the appointment and explained to Hubby that was the reason we were going.
During the appointment, I explained to the doctor that I, too, needed a consultation that day.
I broke down. I cried and then I got angry that I was crying. I explained it all. The hopelessness of the situation. I explained that I was angry all the time. I couldn’t sleep at night and would fall asleep in the blink of an eye during the day. I described my disinterest in participating in anything. I even went as far as to describe the internal darkness I faced each day.
His answer….
This is what I feared the most. So many women get addicted to this stuff. What if I end up like them? What if I end up one of those moms washing down her tranquilizers each day with a double shot of whiskey? I envisioned my hair standing on end, clothes tattered as I rocked back and forth in the corner of my bathroom because my pills had run out…..
This was the irrational side of me coming through again. The doctor saw the fear in my eyes. He reassured me it was a low dosage and that I would HAVE to make a monthly appointment for the first 3 months to track progress and every 6 months there after.
Journaling, he said, would be a great idea. It would keep me in the realm of how I’m progressing. I can’t take back what is already written, therefore, writing exactly how I’m feeling whether rational or irrational would give me a track record of whether I’m improving, falling back, or staying level. It would also help me to identify triggers.
That was a month ago…….

Just a little humor to lighten the mood

If any of this sounds even slightly familiar, please clickity click a few of the links below. Some are blogs, some are just information.
And please don’t feel alone!
Postpartum Progress
Surprising Symptoms
Ivy's PPD Blog
First Time Mom and Dad
PPD to Joy

If you just want to talk to someone...I'm up for that too! Send me a little email or drop by my twitter! I'd love to chat with you about everything and anything. We'll have a cuppa (or a bottle of wine ;-) through our virtual cafe!

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  1. Sometimes we need help. Even if it's medication and we don't want it to be medication. It doesn't matter what the catalyst for change is, what matters is that we start on the road to getting better. You're very brave, stay on the road.

  2. Thank you so much! Yes change and forward movement are the primary needs and focus!!

  3. Thanks so much for talking about this! It takes courage to admit it "publicly" (I'm not sure I could), and I applaud you. PPD is actually one of my biggest fears. I have a history of depression (not really since 2007ish) and I know that it could easily creep into my life in just a few weeks. What's hard is that I'm trained in clinical psychology, so I know the signs, but it's always different when it's you that has a "problem." I'd definitely love to keep up with you on this topic...

    1. Thanks so much! I too thought I was one that would recognize the signs but it did just 'creep into my life'. It was there before I realized it. Thank you for saying I'm brave...I don't feel like it but this blog is like a journal for me. It's therapy!

  4. I commend you for being open. Yeah, I agree with Lovely here. Not everyone can have the courage to say that in open. But sometimes, it's what we need towards healing.

  5. That's a great way to see it!! thank you for your encouragment




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