Could it have been the fact that I am still wearing clothes two sizes bigger than I should be and have no motivation in my gut to lose the gut? No.
Could it be the fact that I have all but forgotten how to put make up on? No.
Could it have been going out to dinner with two of my pregnant friends recently and realizing as I sat across from them that I was struggling to say something positive about being a mother that day? No.
Could it have been the fact that poor Husband has become a master of walking on eggshells in my presence, never knowing what combination of words is the one that will set me off on a "you don't think I'm a good mother" tirade. No.
Want to know what made me realize and finally accept that I needed to address this new gloom residing in me?
I wasn't blogging and I wasn't reading other peoples' blogs.
Strange that realizing I had essentially stopped blogging would be my *lightbulb* moment, but it was. Blogging is something I started doing for myself when I was first on bedrest--it saved my sanity from the clutches of boredom, and while I am no Shakespeare, it was fun to tap into my creative energy and occassionally, my sense of humor (let's face it, every English teacher is a frustrated novelist). It became a part of my identity and my sense of self; it was a record of my life.
But I stopped. I haven't been too busy. No, I still have a baby sleeping on one of my arms most afternoons for at least an hour (yeah, the independent napping thing pooped the bed as soon as Ethan got his first cold--then it was right back on Mommy). I have plenty of time to blog. I just don't. I sit and watch TV. Ugh.
And I stopped reading other peoples' blogs, with a few exceptions. Amy, Becki and KMW still got my daily attention, because we all went through similar pregnancies and because Becki and KMW just had their little miracles (congrats, girls!). But the blogs I usually read simply for a laugh--"eh, why bother??" is how I've been feeling. Seriously. Why bother clicking on that link and running my eyes over the words on the page that pops up? Why bother laughing? Sigh....
So I dragged my sorry butt to the doctors, said, "PPD" and walked out with Zoloft. Husband & I used to laugh at the gloomy little bouncing ball in the commercial, bouncing his way over to the other, happier balls. Now I am that mopey little bouncing ball. Depression isn't new to me, so I think deep down I've known it's been gnawing it's way back into my life for the past few months. But how do you admit, when you are supposed to be at your very happiest, that there is a part of you that feels so utterly alone and lost?
Yes, poor me. It's all so melodramatic. I just wanted to explain where I've been and why I've been neglecting the blog. Hopefully now I will be able to kick my butt in gear and write more regularly. I have no intention of turning this into my PPD blog; that sadness is something that feels totally separate from my relationship with Ethan (ironic, isn't it?) and this blog is about him and how wonderful watching him grow has been and continues to be. And to prove it, check this one out...
8 comments:
Thanks for writing this. I am a long time lurker that found your site through a friend's and came to check it every day. Depression is a total drag, but it's so important that you realized what was going on, and really a show of strength that you sought out help. Your son is so beautiful, please keep on writing, and before you know it you'll be one of the happy balls!
So sorry you've been dealing with ppd. I know it can get bad and am watching for it myself just in case. I'm glad you got some meds for it.
I have missed your blogging, and frankly, this is all about me, so glad to see you will be back in action!
Seriously though, it's awesome you recognized the signs and can do something to improve it.
Hang in there! And Ethan! Is! So! Cute!
well, ya know, it's amazingly common - bit of an iceberg thing, i reckon, with only a tenth of it showing above the water and actually getting diagnosed. kudos to you for recognising and acting on what you saw in yourself. and double kudos for posting about it.
xxx
You rock, so glad you are open about it Sarah... I hope things start looking up soon. Kim
Is it bad to say that I love this post? Not because I want you to have to go through any of this, but because it is brave and something that can help all of us. There are definately parts of what you wrote that I can relate too and I hope that all of us who have ever experienced feelings of depression pay attention to some of the signs. Good job and beautiful post! Hang in there (plus, I feel so honored to be one of the lucky ones who is still on the "still read" blog list.)
Be easy on yourself. I went throught the post-natal depression twice, plus with a nasty dose of pre-natal depression to boot. It is not at all nice now, and it doesn't help when you feel lardy, and you will have terrible days and some not-so-terrible days. Then one day you'll realise that you feel a bit more like yourself again, and then you're back on the road.
Looking after a new baby, not to mention all those crazy hormones bouncing around inside you, is a life-changing thing and is utterly, utterly exhausting. Accept yourself as you are, don't measure yourself against anyone else and allow yourself time. They say it takes nine months to grow a baby and nine months for your body to recover - what they forget to say is that it can take that long for your mind and emotions to recover as well. Then you've got the rest of your life to feel happy with that gorgeous baby of yours and your eggshell-treading husband.
Take care, and keep writing. The worst thing you can do it keep it all bottled up inside.
Re-read this after my appt. with OB today... I think this line really stuck with me "But how do you admit, when you are supposed to be at your very happiest, that there is a part of you that feels so utterly alone and lost?" He gave me zoloft too... but I'm meeting with a counselor in my area tomorrow at noon so I'll decide after that if I'm going to take it. I'm just ready to enjoy "life" again! Hope things are good with you.
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