First off, let me just say that I the below post is not brand new, I posted it last year on a previous blog of mine (which I’m not using anymore) but I wanted to share it here as it’s still a post that’s relevant and if I’m honest I think it’s important to be open and honest about post natal depression.
This was written in May 2016 after I’d been dealing with my PND for almost 8 months, it’s now a year later and I’m doing well at the moment. I’ll update you on that another day.
I didn’t ever expect to be sitting here, at my laptop writing this, no confessing this. I always thought it would happen to someone else, not me. Anyone else, but not me.
I couldn’t sleep. I’d lie there, eyes wide open, awake. Always awake.
Surely I’ll nod off soon…..
I have to sleep soon, Mr Anseo will be waking for work soon.
6am…..the alarm to wake his goes off. I’m still awake. And panicking.
There was weeks and weeks of this. No sleep.
“Ah that’s great that he sleeps all night, you must be thrilled, it’s so much easier to function when the baby sleeps…..you must feel so relaxed and like a new person now he’s sleeping…..”
“Ah yeah sure” I’d mutter thinking if anyone actually knew how little sleep I was getting they’d take the baby off me. Looking back now I know what the issue was but then I hadn’t a clue and put it down to insomnia and just a general bout of not sleeping. But the truth is I wasn’t eating either, I’d no interest in food. I’d make lunch and play with it, pretend, push it around the plate and leave it. If I met someone for lunch I’d have to force myself to firstly go and secondly to eat when I was there. In hindsight how nobody caught on to my act baffles me. How and Why I though this was normal I don’t know.
When I started picking arguments with Mr Anseo I knew there was an issue, small little bickerings turned into full on battles for me and I was sure he didn’t love me anymore. That I wasn’t good enough for him. Good enough for the baby. That they deserved better. That I owed them better than just me. They both deserved super Mum and were stuck with a pathetic excuse, a shell of a human being. I began to panic a lot more. Anything from burnt toast to a late dinner could set me off. If himself wasn’t home “on time” I was tail spinning into a hellish panic and yet when he walked in the door, perfectly fine I was yelling at him
“Why are you late?? Is work now more important than us??” Completely unreasonable right??
I went to the doctor. I had to. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t me. I was barely functional and my son was suffering, not physically but I wasn’t me enough to do the best that I knew I could be, needed to be for him.
I know me. I know me all too well and knew when I got to the doctor that I wouldn’t tell him the real reason I was there. That I’d fob him off with another issue. So I wrote it all down, every little niggling issue that was making me crazy. Put it into a sealed envelop and asked the lovely receptionist to make sure he got it. He read it in front of me, aloud. And asked what I’d say to a person who was facing all this. I immediately sent this imaginary person to a Doctor, fearing PND. Dr M (as I’ll call him) agreed, and asked why I was so slow going to him. I shrugged and mumbled something about thinking I could sort it out myself.
The next words out of Dr M’s mouth have stuck with me.
“If your car needs repairing do you wait? Do you try and sort it yourself? Or do you ask for help?
I ask for help, I’m useless with cars-other than driving. So I ask my doctor for help now. Dr M diagnosed me with PND-postnatal depression. Nothing to be ashamed he assured me, and believe me I’m not ashamed. I was just so glad to know what was going on.
Mr Anseo and I call my PND my Dragon-that thing that roars insults, mean thoughts, ideas and doubts in my head is nothing but a dragon trying to get the better of me. And as a obsessive Tolkien fan I know that a Hobbit (such as myself) can beat a dragon, if they only have the perseverance, know how and a magic ring….My engagement ring counts right?
I couldn’t do this without the support of himself and my family. I couldn’t do this without my friends. I couldn’t do this without my GP and the magic little friends I take each night going to bed, the ones that fill me up with the ability to cope with everything that blasted dragon throws at me. But most of all I couldn’t get up in the morning if it wasn’t for my small man child.