I feel jealous when I see you bonding and smiling at your kids. I can tell now when it’s sincere.
I feel jealous when moms haven’t struggled with the darkness I have but happy for them too. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
I feel annoyed when someone claims on social media a little regular exercise cured their postpartum depression because mines much worse than that and my regular exercise doesn’t even touch it.
I feel alone because nobody can understand the depth of my pain. The hell Im trying to survive. The PTSD that haunts me day and night.
I feel grateful for finally finding the right medical team to help me heal. The right Drs to support me and listen to me about what medication adjustments I need. Dr who answers his phone on the weekend to let me talk because it can’t wait for Monday. A therapist who is trained to handle postpartum mood disorder and has reassured me through every setback and been there for me even through her vacations because she understands the delicate place I’m in.
I’m grateful for the friends who’ve shown up unannounced just to sit with me, or to listen to me vent about my struggles. Grateful for the friends who’ve said they are coming over and just start cleaning, folding laundry, or doing the dishes. You help without judgement.
This is my reality. This darkness, this pain, this jealousy.
I’ve had to unfollow you because your joy for life hurts me more.
I’m on multiple medications just to function at a basic level and will be for life. That doesn’t make me a bad mom or less of one. It makes me strong for recognizing I need that and it does make me a better wife and mom.
I work each day to dig myself out of this hole with the most amazing husband as my support. I couldn’t have asked for better support from him. He’s listened, he’s held me as I cried for hours day and night, he’s promised me I’ll make it through this and done what he’s had to to insure I do. Without him I wouldn’t be here today to write this.
Once I saw someone post “just remember postpartum depression doesn’t kill” I want to tell her how wrong she is. You can’t control the intrusive thoughts that come in your mind. You may want to live in your heart but the pain in your chest will drive you to insanity. But I’m a survivor, despite our broken medical system I’ve survived. I’m not healed but I’m here.