Thursday, January 8, 2015

Let's Get Real


Dear little blog, how very lonesome you have been.  I sincerely apologize that life has gotten in the way of our little chats.  Believe it or not, I have missed you!  You were once where I went to unload my frustrations and sadness and I have needed that so.  Unfortunately, with everything else going on, some things had to be put on the back burner and I’m very sorry one of them was you.  So much has happened since the last time we spoke, where to begin?  The fall semester is over and spring is getting ready to start.  A few more months and NO.  MORE.  SCHOOL!!!!!  I have literally never been so happy to see a semester end.  The past few months have been almost unbearable and explain why I haven’t been around much. 

I started this blog as a place to get out of my head when we were in the trenches of our infertility, after getting pregnant it took a bright happy turn and I’ve always been afraid to unload those feelings again (I mean, I really don’t want to be a downer, you know?).  But in the spirit of being a good social worker and de-stigmatizing mental illness I will be 100% honest.  Since September I have been in therapy and on medication for Anxiety Disorder and Depression.  Having Finn when we did and trying to balance roles of mommy, wife, student, intern, housekeeper, cook, etc without taking enough time for myself after delivery really took its toll on me, more than I cared to admit until recently.  I’ve dealt with depression off and on my entire adult life (damn genetics!).  I know what it looks like, I see it when it’s coming, I know what typically triggers it, and I usually know how to pull myself out; but this time it was different. 

It really started way back when we were trying to get pregnant, if you’ve read that far back I’m sure you can tell.  But during my pregnancy it turned into worry; which is normal I suppose, but after he got here and I went back to work it became full blown postpartum depression.  I think I knew that then but thought I could manage it like other times; it didn’t go so well.  The summer started and the weight of everything just got heavier, knowing that I was getting ready to start my last year of school which meant I needed a job, we would move, we had to sell the house, and, oh yeah, how about that major licensing exam.  I started getting irritable and angry, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 2 seconds, I couldn't remember anything (which was incredibly hard on me), I was worried constantly…why won’t Finn sleep all night?  What am I doing wrong?  Should I be worried that he’s not eating enough vegetables?  Am I too strict not letting him eat sweets?  Do I baby him too much?  Do I spend enough time with him?  Basically I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t in my head.  There was no winning.  I was so engrossed with other moms and how much better they were than me.  I was so concerned that he was unhappy or that I was in some fundamental way screwing him up for life.  I knew it was irrational but I just couldn’t stop it.  I knew I needed to do something but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I knew the diagnosis; it’s my job to know.  I was text book, but I still thought I could manage it.  Then the day came that some random, ridiculous conversation or thought set me off; shaking hands, racing heart, light headed, and an overwhelming panicked feeling!  After the third time this happened I finally admitted to myself it was a panic attack and if I didn’t get them in control they’d get worse and I did not want to put Finn, or Ellis, through that.

The day I saw the doctor and was formally diagnosed I sat in the car and cried.  I knew what was coming but to hear it from someone else was earth shattering.  This was not supposed to be me.  I’m supposed to be the one doing the diagnosing and the ‘fixing’, not the one being ‘fixed’.  In my head I had failed, at life.  I just kept beating myself up, “why is this so hard for me?” “Why does everyone else seem to be able to do this?”  The problem is that rationally I knew there was nothing wrong with me (per se) and that all of those thoughts and feelings weren’t true, but I felt them anyway, I just couldn’t control it.  And that was a very scary place to be.

So….fast forward and here we are, I feel a lot better.  I’m still working on things but the therapy made me realize that I don’t have anyone to vent to.  I have so much stress between wearing all those hats and now taking on the stress of my clients and I had nowhere for it to go.  So having somewhere to unload has been helpful, I am taking medication for the situational stress that will likely no longer be an issue once the 500 different things that I have on my plate lessen.  It hasn’t been easy and thank God for Ellis, he’s been a trooper; but I’m getting there.

This year I didn’t make resolutions, just goals (aren’t they really the same thing?) and one of them, dear blog, is to spend a little more time with you.  It may not always be happy, smiles, and cute pictures; OK there will most definitely be cute pictures, but, it will be real.  Life is hard but it has been worth every single struggle to get here.  So with that, my friend, I will leave you (because surely that was enough to digest for one day, right?).  But be prepared, we have a lot of catching up to do!!
Oh and PS, when I get some free time (HA HA HA) you're getting a face lift.  K? 

PPS, I just had a friend post this on Facebook....how very topical to this discussion... http://www.postpartumprogress.com/cant-tell-mom-postpartum-depression-looking

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