mental health, parenting

The Great Depression: Post Natal Depression and Me

They found me… I don’t know how but they found me. I’ve never felt so close to Doc Brown in Back to the Future as I found now. But instead of being gunned down by Libyans in a Volkswagen, I’m being shot at by my old nemesis, post natal depression.

I wasn’t going to blog about this at first because it seemed so personal, but not blogging about it fuels the ever growing fire that depression, especially post natal depression, is something to be ashamed of or something that means you are a weak person or even worse, a bad parent. Trust me those are things that went through my head when those old familiar feelings started to creep in.

I had some post natal depression with my son and was scared that it might happen again with my daughter. The odds, as many people know, are that if it happens once, you’ll most likely get it again. Three months out and I thought I was through the woods. I was breathing sighs of relief and telling myself that the worst might be over… I sure know how to count those chick’s, don’t I?

For those of you who have never had post natal depression, count yourself incredibly lucky. It blows the big one. For me it takes the form of feeling like I’m out if control, that I can’t get a handle in anything. This makes me feel like a bad parent and makes me feel like I’m scaring my children which drops me into a deep funk where all the super sketchy thoughts like to hang out. It’s like my depression is that big pit monster in Star Wars and Jabba the Hutt just chucked me in the pit to do battle with it. Damn it Jabba, I would rather wear the sex slave outfit and be chained to you the rest if my life then go back in there.

But here I am again and this time the pit feels smaller and the monster larger because I have two children to take care of instead if just one. But here’s the cool thing, I’ve been in this pit before and even though it’s smaller and the monster feels bigger, it still has the same Achilles heel, awesome meds, therapy and exercise. Die depression die!

The best thing about having a second child is that you’ve been through it all before… ALL of it. I know that I’ll come out of this OK, thanks you meds for helping with that. But I also know as I hope you do reader, that I will be damned if I’m going to let the pit monster get leverage on me by making me feel bad about this or making me think I’m weak because I’ll be on antidepressants until I get over the hump.

We have enough to deal with without being made to feel bad about making ourselves feel better, I sincerely hope that you agree.

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