Post-partum depression.
I had (pretty much) a perfect life, while growing up.
No monetary worries, two vacations a year, private school...
I worked for things I wanted, but didn't want for things I needed.
So mental health never really crossed my mind...until I became pregnant.
I became a mother, to a wonderful little boy, before I was truly ready for it, and before I'd found a healthy relationship. I get it when people say "you're never ready" in reference to having a kid, but being young just makes it more complicated...admit it.
I come from a fly-over state, so you can probably guess how the reaction to my "out of wedlock" pregnancy announcement went. Youth and lack of support, combined with myself being a "Type A" personality, came together to land me into the deep, dark pool of intra-partum depression, which continued to post-partum depression. I was barely treading water, for longer than I'd like to admit, because being "Type A" means failure isn't an option.
And in my opinion that's what lack of mental health is seen as, a failure to be "normal".
So baby arrives, (yay!...right? aren't I supposed to be so happy?) and those scary feelings/thoughts I had during pregnancy just got worse.
My relationship with my then fiancé was in a terrible place, my patience with this newborn who relied solely on me for his sustenance was entirely lacking, and my self-worth was at about 1%.
Stretch marks, tons of excess weight, painful boobs, are just some of the physical complaints I had about myself.
I'd reached my lowest low, and wanted it all to stop.
I wanted to be better, but knew I just wasn't enough.
I wanted to be a great mom and wife, but wouldn't they be better off without my disaster of a self to worry about?
Wouldn't it just be easier if I was gone?
Then my son would cry, or something along those lines, and reality would remind me that this crying, little, 10 pounds of my dna needed someone to keep feeding him to stay alive.
Part of me didn't like that, part of me loved it, and all of me knew that he was the only reason I was still alive.
While I never had a plan for suicide, many crossed my mind, and it was almost incessant. Like I couldn't go an hour without wanting to die or thinking about it, even 30 minutes seemed like a success if I could stay "happy" and keep my mind from wandering down depression lane.
Being stubborn, and realizing that death doesn't improve life for those around me, helped me to claw my way to a more healthy mental state, though it took a long time. To be honest, I don't even remember a lot of that period or how I helped myself out of it, other than exercise and music, because I try to block it out. I'm in a place where I openly talk about it, but still have it mentally blocked partly. Maybe for fear of it returning should I ever have another child?
(And oh, there's a scary thought...another pregnancy. Could I handle that?)
I've come to the conclusion that post-partum depression should be the primary topic in those hospital discharge instructions.
Your tribe of family and doctor should be checking on your mental health just as often as your physical health.
Do not be ashamed of the roller coaster emotions that come in pregnancy, and after it.
Post-partum depression is as volatile as Kansas' weather. It can be sunny but raining, and it will probably snow, but that wasn't forecast...You never know how to prepare.
And if you are one of the many women whose child didn't make it into the world, don't blame yourself, please. Talk to anyone and everyone, so that you never reach the depths of depression that are so easily stumbled into with those hormones raging.
Ladies, you are worthy. Of another day, and a better future. Find your hope. Talk about your struggles. Reach out to your church or your friends and family. Mental health is everything.
→forwardspero
@forwardspero on instagram/twitter, or email me if you need to talk
No monetary worries, two vacations a year, private school...
I worked for things I wanted, but didn't want for things I needed.
So mental health never really crossed my mind...until I became pregnant.
I became a mother, to a wonderful little boy, before I was truly ready for it, and before I'd found a healthy relationship. I get it when people say "you're never ready" in reference to having a kid, but being young just makes it more complicated...admit it.
I come from a fly-over state, so you can probably guess how the reaction to my "out of wedlock" pregnancy announcement went. Youth and lack of support, combined with myself being a "Type A" personality, came together to land me into the deep, dark pool of intra-partum depression, which continued to post-partum depression. I was barely treading water, for longer than I'd like to admit, because being "Type A" means failure isn't an option.
And in my opinion that's what lack of mental health is seen as, a failure to be "normal".
So baby arrives, (yay!...right? aren't I supposed to be so happy?) and those scary feelings/thoughts I had during pregnancy just got worse.
My relationship with my then fiancé was in a terrible place, my patience with this newborn who relied solely on me for his sustenance was entirely lacking, and my self-worth was at about 1%.
Stretch marks, tons of excess weight, painful boobs, are just some of the physical complaints I had about myself.
I'd reached my lowest low, and wanted it all to stop.
I wanted to be better, but knew I just wasn't enough.
I wanted to be a great mom and wife, but wouldn't they be better off without my disaster of a self to worry about?
Wouldn't it just be easier if I was gone?
Then my son would cry, or something along those lines, and reality would remind me that this crying, little, 10 pounds of my dna needed someone to keep feeding him to stay alive.
Part of me didn't like that, part of me loved it, and all of me knew that he was the only reason I was still alive.
While I never had a plan for suicide, many crossed my mind, and it was almost incessant. Like I couldn't go an hour without wanting to die or thinking about it, even 30 minutes seemed like a success if I could stay "happy" and keep my mind from wandering down depression lane.
Being stubborn, and realizing that death doesn't improve life for those around me, helped me to claw my way to a more healthy mental state, though it took a long time. To be honest, I don't even remember a lot of that period or how I helped myself out of it, other than exercise and music, because I try to block it out. I'm in a place where I openly talk about it, but still have it mentally blocked partly. Maybe for fear of it returning should I ever have another child?
(And oh, there's a scary thought...another pregnancy. Could I handle that?)
I've come to the conclusion that post-partum depression should be the primary topic in those hospital discharge instructions.
Your tribe of family and doctor should be checking on your mental health just as often as your physical health.
Do not be ashamed of the roller coaster emotions that come in pregnancy, and after it.
Post-partum depression is as volatile as Kansas' weather. It can be sunny but raining, and it will probably snow, but that wasn't forecast...You never know how to prepare.
And if you are one of the many women whose child didn't make it into the world, don't blame yourself, please. Talk to anyone and everyone, so that you never reach the depths of depression that are so easily stumbled into with those hormones raging.
Ladies, you are worthy. Of another day, and a better future. Find your hope. Talk about your struggles. Reach out to your church or your friends and family. Mental health is everything.
→forwardspero
@forwardspero on instagram/twitter, or email me if you need to talk
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