Is It Really All My Fault? My Experience with PPMD

One of the most misunderstood parts of motherhood is the emotional roller-coaster you’re on right after giving birth. Everyone expects you to be settling in blissfully while staring doe-eyed at your bundle of joy.  But sleep deprivation and the unpredictable hormonal whirlwind of post-pregnancy can throw even the most even-keeled woman into some real instability. Western society expects women to adapt and overcome, to run the house and the family all day every day without much help from friends or family. And if you can’t handle that responsibility while parenting a new baby, it can wreak havoc on your self-confidence and sense of competency, resulting in guilt and shame. I can attest to the fact that its very isolating to be ashamed of your emotions, and have them not make sense to you.  It’s hard to imagine that anyone would understand.

My longest lasting episode of depression began during my pregnancy with my second oldest child. It was marked by anxiety and irritation, and a loose cannon rage that would come out of nowhere over both big and little things. I was ashamed of my lack of ability to control my anger, and that I’d become a parent who yelled often. I attributed it to being pregnant and hormonal and having a high need 2 year old, but I didn’t connect it with depression at all. I didn’t make that connection because I wasn’t sad, tearful, lethargic, or unmotivated. How could it be depression if there were no tears?

After my baby was born, things only got worse. She had colic for 3 months, screaming from 11 pm to 2 am most nights, while I walked a groove into the living room floor. Once the colic abated, she was a terrible sleeper. She woke as many as half a dozen times a night for the first two years of her life, and I was the primary caregiver. Due to the chronic sleep deprivation, I was detached, ragey, and anxious, I also began having intrusive thoughts and paranoia, most often involving fear of home invasion or replaying the worst parenting moments of my day. Some were worse and more vivid than that.

I mentioned my anger and detachment to my ex (who I was still married to at the time) when she was about 10 months old, and he told me, “If you had a closer relationship with God, you would not be in despair.”  Medication and therapy would be a waste of money, he said, because the problem was in my head and was rooted in sin.  I was devastated and felt even more shame as I internalized this possibility.  When you’re already feeling worthless and ashamed, it’s easy to believe unkind words about why you feel the way you do. Because of his reaction and invalidation, I never told anyone about how I was feeling. I didn’t have the courage to admit to the intrusive thoughts and paranoia once he told me that I was the problem. But I knew my feelings were real, and I knew they weren’t normal.  I didn’t know I could look for support or help because I didn’t really know what to call my emotional state other than angry, detached, and overwhelmed. It didn’t seem like any depression I had ever heard of.

Because of the shame, I became more and more emotionally detached and couldn’t handle everyday life without reacting strongly to even the smallest things. I felt unsupported, misunderstood, and like I was a failure as a mom and a wife every single day. But you would never have known, because my facade was one of a happy, pulled together, suburban wife and mom. If other women could do it all by themselves, I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t keep it together.

My PPD and anxiety went untreated for 5 more years, by which time I’d had two more children with my ex. Eventually the rage and dissociation, self-loathing and isolation became more than I could bear emotionally.  I felt that my children and I deserved a better quality of life. So, despite the protests of my ex, I went to see my family doctor. I was prescribed an anti depressant, and that quelled the rage substantially. But I continued to feel detached, and I continued to have intrusive thoughts and anxiety. A few months later, I approached my doctor about anti-anxiety medication, and for the first time in a very long time, the intrusive thoughts went away. With the additional medication came a degree of apathy, but it was still a relief. I didn’t go into any depth about the severity of my emotional issues with my doctor during those visits, and was never encouraged to seek additional help.

After I left my ex, I added weekly therapy appointments to the medication I was taking. More and more emotional healing occurred, but despite the counseling and prescriptions, I continued to exhibit symptoms of panic, paranoia, and varying levels of depression. It wasn’t until I started participating in the Monday evening #PPDchat on twitter in the spring of 2011 that I realized my detachment and rage were valid symptoms of post partum depression. Then I read this blog post about intrusive thoughts, and finally had a name for what was happening in those episodes of repetitive circular thoughts and terrifying/guilt inducing video-like moments in my head that I never spoke about. While I was on anxiety medication, I didn’t have them. When I’ve gotten off medication, they come back sometimes. But I have an easier time dismissing them now that I can recognize them.  Depression and anxiety are issues I’ve dealt with for my whole life. I’ve had periods where I’m not so affected by them, but they always seem to recur.

I no longer live in that place of crippling overwhelmedness because I’ve come to a place of peace with my limitations. I removed myself from a toxic marriage, and I started making self-care a priority. I’ve (mostly) stopped comparing myself and my parenting skills and my particular children to others. I’ve also done a lot more sharing, a lot more reaching out, and a lot more self-analysis, since I have gotten involved with the PPD community on twitter and become a regular reader of blogs from women who suffer with Post Partum Mood Disorders. I have a support system now. They encourage me, and remind me that it takes strength to reach out and be vulnerable. Trusting women who can relate to my story and give validation to my emotions has been instrumental in my healing and helps a lot with my day to day stability.

There are more than half a million mothers each year, in America alone, who don’t realize they have a post partum mood disorder. I was one of them. Post Partum Mood Disorders are real. The feelings you have are real. You are not making a big deal out of nothing, and your emotions and fears and thoughts should not be taken lightly and dismissed as “just being hormonal and overtired”. Find women who will listen and support you, and take the risk of opening up to them in a safe environment, and share with those people who have earned the right to hear your story. In the meantime, know that you are doing the best you can. Know there is help, and there is hope. You’re not alone.

PSI-Blog-Hop-Badge

 

• If you need immediate help, please call the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

• If you are looking for pregnancy or postpartum support and local resources, please call or email us:
Call PSI Warmline (English & Spanish) 1-800-944-4PPD (4773)
Email support@postpartum.net

 

Author’s Note: I’ve shared this story in bits and pieces over the course of the last several years, in the hopes that it provides validation, insight, help, and hope to other women and their families/partners. You’re welcome to share this post and the information within it to anyone you think might benefit from it. Thanks to my readers and friends for continuing to provide the safety and security I need to risk vulnerability, share my story, and keep healing. 

Apothecary Rose

yellow roses

Cylest strolled downs the stone path in her flower garden at a thoughtful, deliberate pace. She was searching for a pruning project, and paused at the Apothecary Rose bush that had been her mother’s favorite. Pulling her garden knife from her apron pocket, she curled her feet under her, letting her mind wander.

A hazy memory surfaced of her mother at her age in her own garden: bonnet off, hair loose around her shoulders. Cylest had always felt closest to her among the flowers because it made them both happy. And today she didn’t feel quite so much like an orphan.

linking up with

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prompt: deliberate

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prompt: age

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prompt: orphan

 

Author’s Note: a scene in my ongoing work of fiction featuring Cylest and Lachlan.

The Many Faces of Smallish Girl

My youngest daughter has the sweetest, purest little heart.  She gives words of encouragement, hand drawn pictures, hugs and kisses, and genuine love so freely to those she is fond of.

We were in the car over the weekend, and while I was stopped at a red light, she was singing along and car-dancing to her favorite song, a worship tune called Rise and Sing. Go ahead and click on the song, she would love that you listened to it. I enjoying watching her, seeing her emotions so clearly revealed as she rocked out and sang her feelings to her Creator. She enjoys a lot of other music, too. She has two older sisters who love current Top 40 songs as well as a steady dose of Disney Channel.

After we got home, I asked if she would mind if I had a quick photo shoot with her, and she obliged willingly. I wish you could all meet her.  She’s funny, very flexible, incredibly smart, is totally down to earth, very generous, plays well with her sisters and friends, loves school, is fascinated by science, and has a funky little sense of fashion. I hope these many faces of Smallish Girl give you a little window into who she is. Love her so much.

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Linking up with

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and various and sundry Wordless Wednesday linkups

 

Murmur

“I’d almost forgotten how much I love the way you smell.”

Caera’s voice was a purr, a breathless murmur. Liam moaned in response as her lips trailed down his neck onto his chest.

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Linking up with

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prompt: 33 words, use an example of onomotopoeia.

Author’s Note: This scene happens directly following Those Three Words. For more in the story of Liam And Caera, click here.

The Truth About Motherhood

motherhood

 

The truth about motherhood is that no one prepared me for this.

No, really.

Have you ever actually admitted that, out loud? That you feel lost, unprepared, five years behind where you “should” be in raising your children?

I just did.

I wonder on a daily basis why God/The Universe thought I could handle 4 kids in 7 years, and be able to meet their needs and teach them what they need to know. I am learning as I go, and hoping I get a few things right.

My mom had a completely different life than I do. She put her kids in daycare and preschool and Catholic school from the beginning.  I started out homeschooling my kids. My dad worked long hours five days a week, but she never had a spouse that traveled 50% of the time like I did. She only had 2 children as opposed to my 4. She never had to struggle to keep up with the house, because no one was in it to mess it up except for 2 or 3 hours right before bed every night.

When I was growing up, my mom taught in an elementary school. She went to church or school related meetings most nights during the week, and when she got home, she was grading papers and tests until after I went to bed. I never knew any different, so I didn’t realize I was missing out on relationship and connection with my mom. I also didn’t realize that I was not learning how to run a house or make meals while children clamored at my elbows and hung on my legs. I came into motherhood totally unprepared, and have been flying by the seat of my pants ever since.

I didn’t feel comfortable reaching out for help when I was in survival mode for several years. My ex was super-critical of my parenting, housekeeping, and homeschooling, and depended on me to keep the facade of “white picket fence happy little suburban Christian conservative patriarchal-run family” up and running. When I tried to be real with others and talk about what life was like, I was told had that I needed to pull myself up by my bootstraps. The women I knew, as well as my ex, would ask why I thought I was so special and deserving of assistance when other families ran smoothly without a hitch. Why couldn’t I do it all by myself? I consistently felt uncool, unworthy, unprepared, clueless, helpless, and hopeless.

One day I reached out to another mom, a friend who didn’t attend my church or participate in my homeschool group. I admitted my fears and failures and shortcomings as a mom. I asked for help, for insight, for advice. I told her how I felt about the women in my church, and what they had said to me. I was honest about my ex and how he treated me. In this friend, I found acceptance, wisdom, encouragement, and comfort.

Sshe did more for my emotional health, and my children, than she can possibly imagine. Not long after I began opening up to her, I started to be more authentic with other women in my life. I found bravery and sought connection. And stopped trying to be supermom.

The truth about motherhood is that it’s damn hard.

The truth about motherhood is that none of us really, truly know what we’re doing and we learn as we go. Do not believe the lie that every other mom has it together because they don’t.

The truth about motherhood is that because we’re all struggling.  If you find another woman who is willing to be transparent about her struggles with you, it’s worth the risk to be open with her about your fears and questions too.

The truth about motherhood is that knowing my limits and my weaknesses, I can learn to ask for the help I need.

The truth about motherhood is that my kids are different from your kids, and I’m different from you, and our family’s dynamic is our own.

The truth about motherhood is that we all love our kids, and we all want what’s best for them. We need to trust ourselves to know what those things are, to do the best we can, and to resist taking others’ judgment to heart.

What is your truth about motherhood?

 

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Worth Defending

bailey

Cylest stopped walking. “Why on earth didn’t you tell them?” she shrieked. “All the time you spent in solitary confinement, and the interrogations.. years of imprisonment.. and you’re telling me you never told them why?”

Though he knew the ruins were deserted, he looked around to check, shocked at her forthrightness and the volume of her voice.  Turning to her, he admitted “In truth, there were many things that landed me there.”

He reached for her hand and continued walking. “I’d no intention of giving up my family if I didn’t have to. Though they were never grateful, I’ve been loyal to my blood these many years, and I’ll stay loyal to them.”

“But at what expense? Carrying the burden of this without justice has hurt you. Deeply.”

He squeezed her hand. “My love, there are many things that burden my heart. Many people’s betrayals that I may never see avenged. ”  His voice became more strained as he continued. “But I try to forgive, and move on, and not allow them to darken my heart.”

Cylest stopped walking and turned to him, placing her hand on his forearm and stroking it with her thumb as she spoke. “Yes, and you do well. You’re a gentle man.  Neither bitter nor vengeful. And though I know your story, you don’t frighten me with your past and your battle scars.”

Lachlan opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed on, her voice passionate. “But it doesn’t mean that I don’t hurt for you.  It doesn’t mean that I’m not angry at the injustices and the pain, and those who inflicted it. I wish I could make them all pay for what they did.”

“My wee lass, I bet you would make them pay.  You’re a scrapper.” he grinned.

“I might not be able to do the damage I’d like, but I’d give my life to defend your heart.” she responded ardently. “It’s worth protecting.”

Lachlan stopped her mouth with a kiss.

 

Linking up with

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prompt: “blood”: related to, descended by blood, kindred.

Author’s Note:  This scene happens during the same afternoon as Castle Walls, and is a turning point in the relationship between Cylest and Lachlan.  For more of their story, click here.

Snowdrop

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photo by S. M. Besnier, used with permission

Cylest woke to the first rays of sunlight. Stretching, she breathed in the cold morning air and reached for her robe. As she drew her hand through her hair, she opened the curtains and was delighted to find that some purple snowdrops had popped up during the night.

Hurrying through the kitchen, she cracked the front door for a better look.

“Look, Grady! Aren’t they pretty?”

The dog barked in agreement, and wiggled out into the snow. Pawing near the stem, his nose touched the bloom. He jumped back in shock, growling. Cylest laughed out loud, and walked out to join him.

Linking up with the photo prompt from

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as well as the prompt “pretty” from

 

 

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Weekly Writing Linkup – Books

prompts

What are some of your all time favorite books?

This is my favorite book on parenting.  Mostly it convicts/encourages the parent, and probably the most important thing it did for me was speak on the importance of modeling healthy emotional reactions for your children. Why are they so reactionary?  Because they absorb all of mom’s stress!!

easytolove

 

These are two children’s books that have saved my sanity and bolstered my confidence because the moms get frustrated at garden-variety kid things and lose their cool and then make up afterward. They aren’t perfect.  And yes, they are just kid books.. but really?  They make my list.

skippyjonharriet

 

Books I love from my own childhood and from my oldest daughter’s childhood. I have a lot more middle school/junior high/young adult favorites, but these are the standout ones.

anneofgreengablesemilynewmooncityofemberpercyjacksonhungergamesprincessacademy

My favorite romance novels

macgregorbrides macgregorgroomsalangrantrobertandcybilbornintrilogyoutlanderseries

Books that have important things to say and can be read over and over

perksgiftsofimperfectionfivelove1000giftsloveandrespectprotectingthegift

Historical fiction based on the Bible, which helps me not only remember the stories better, but helps me to relate my life more easily to those stories.

bookofgodredtent

 

Do you prefer ebooks or physical books?

Physical books. Every time.

What’s in your “to be read” pile?

All of these books are by people I’ve met/know personally. I also want to write reviews for them and help them sell more!

daringhappiestmomgoodenoughorganizedsimmominchelentroycamangelaprecipice1notalone