Here is my tribute to mamas out there who really need a hug full of sincere love and support, because I was once there too. I know. I hear you. I give you my words to lean on and cry it out.
This is for you. You are their world. You are needed. Light is just ahead, one crawl at a time.
Happy Mother's Day, mama.
POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION |
THE MIND IS THE KEY TO THE SOUL
All those clichés of "no light at the end of the tunnel" or "feeling completely empty inside" does no justice to the reality of depression. In fact, those clichés are the only phrases I could find myself using to simply explain what depression felt like. But when you are drowning in darkness and actually have absolutely no light at the end of the tunnel because the depression clouds out your ability to see hope for an out from the gloom state the mind is trapped in, or you feel the emptiness that not even sadness itself could shake you to life... Those clichés are a depressed person's very prison. Prison.
If having gone through and overcome depression has taught me a powerful lesson for the better, it is that the mind is EVERYTHING. Our mind can be the best thing about us that gives us the ability to build—forming a healthy, functional life and wholesome relationships, powering us through our lowest of lows... and yet it is our very mind itself that can contrastingly be the worst thing that imprisons our own soul in fears that can lead to paranoia, rambling in nonsensical thoughts, or criticizing our own beings or that of others. What we feed our minds fuels our interests, our thinking, our perspectives, our take on life, our very being - it is what I believe is the key to the health of our very soul. Be selective in what you nurture it with.
Take care of your mind, and it will take care of you.
POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION |
FIGHTING BACK FOR MY MIND
If I could describe myself during the darkest time of my life: I was broken. I think I knew even if I were to feel any emotion again, even sadness at this point would be a start, or that if I were to find myself feeling somewhat anything like myself, I feared that I would not be the same. I felt like a broken mirror with a thousand shards to be pieced back together and it was inevitable that a few pieces, if not chunks, would be missing from the young woman I once was. But I was determined that I was going to rise from this darkness and fight the hell out of myself to be better and living my life again.
I considered therapy and medication as last resort options if I couldn't do it on my own, but the drive to know this whole process with my whole mind and being to the finish of getting out of my grave to find the light again, compelled me to push back until I found myself getting back to a sense of self, even if it was a slow, day-to-day, grueling process to begin to see and feel the changes over the course of the next few years.
I didn't want a "quick-fix" as I felt in my personality that I would only be satisfied with the results to be able to move on with my life if I tackled it and fought back so that I could trace back my steps of recovery. I wanted to know with a certainty that I actually dealt with my issues head-on and resolved it without numbing them or my senses. I wanted to be able to look back to know that I mustered up the ability within myself to be the woman and the mother I would become after it all should I survive it. That's when I decided to put my sleepless nights to use for me instead of against me, and I wrote those nights away.
POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION |
FINDING MY RELEASE
I wrote to release all thoughts that tormented me, the fears I felt, the what-ifs that could (but did not, thankfully) ensue, anything and everything that I felt in that moment, I chose to release it, writing like a madwoman so that I wouldn't suppress it and imprison my mind in such thoughts. I find it was therapeutic like prayer is for some, you just want to be heard and then you look for the signs after you pray/write to see the changes in having been heard. I told myself that I would write until there were no more empty pages in my journal or until my arm fell off, if that's what it would take to heal. Each page was a page closer to healing, understanding myself and what I was feeling and thinking as I wrote, in a way forcing me to reflect on what I was writing in my fear, with the actuality of my life that I was actually okay and had no tangible evidence of my fears coming to fruition.
That journal was my mind-savior and is so precious to me like how I used to feel about my Bible. It is the period of me in my broken state compiled in one little journal. The journal I had once kept unused for years with nothing inspirational or purposeful enough to fill its pages, until this vulnerable, defining moment in my life that came pouring out of my hands, unstoppable. Writing in this journal was so freeing as I wrote with its unspoken confidentiality that I was not being judged as to what I wrote or how I wrote it, without criticism that I was not healing fast enough or healing in the right direction. It gave no feedback, just pure release that thus released my soul from the prison my mind held captive.
I filled that journal. My arm did not fall off. And I found healing. I found my true sense of self that holds the scars of my old war-torn self. I opened up in a “rare for my character” vulnerability to any listening ears, but hit wall after wall as I expended my precious energy stuck explaining and convincing them of my mental state to where I never received the support I truly would have needed. My desperation coupled with ignorance led me to open the door to a person that only used my vulnerability to manipulate me, thus dragging me to the eye of the storm of my all consuming hell. That was an added layer of a hard lesson learned. But I feel that being thrust into and held into the searing fire, to then be pounded out with a beating, has forged me into a stronger version that has gained another scar of growth and learning.
POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION |
BABY STEPS TOWARDS FEELING
Along with writing in my journal, I used everyday as an opportunity to live. I put on music that spoke to me, even if they were sad songs that I cried to, at least my feelings were being evoked with any emotion, even that of sadness. I had actual, wet tears welling up and out of me. I allowed myself to feel and be whatever I was in that moment, validating to myself that it was okay for me to be sad because it meant being one step further from the numb.
We would go broke going out to eat at our newfound favorite restaurants, but I was actually enjoying and looking forward to the simplicity of delicious food hitting my palate again. Basic needs of eating or sleeping was more routine during the depression, but I was now taking time to really enjoy what I tasted, to feel each drop of warm water trickle down my back during my showers, and really resting my head heavy with thoughts onto my pillow at night to make it a part of self-care, feeling the benefits in the small doses of happy emotions seeping back into my soul.
The mental state of depression put me at the fork in the road of choosing between life and death - at one point, diligently buckling up my children into their car seats, while neglecting my own buckling up thinking that I could care less should I fly through the windshield during my numb state of mind. Don't freak out, I never sought to intentionally harm myself and especially not my babies, but I also did not have much will to live, my head in a foggy daze of numb.
I am thankful and proud that I did not let the depression bring me to take my life at my own hands, I conscientiously fought back against it to be alive and well for my children, for I knew I had no one in those moments I could rely on or trust for my precious children to be in their care should I be gone. No one would love them, protect them, nurture them, teach them, have their best interests, or give their own life for them the way I knew the mother in me would.
So in a strangely positive way that the dysfunction of the lack of support did me any good, it spurred me on to be ever more alive and present for my children as I had no one I trusted to ever take my place for them. If I had done so at my own doing, I would probably lie in my grave forever restless with the guilt of the damage I would've passed on to my children's future if I was gone, and especially in that way.
POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION |
HEALING THROUGH FORGIVENESS
So often times, we wait in a bitter state for those who have hurt us to take the initiative to right their wrongs by apologizing to us. But often times, we only torture ourselves in setting up such an expectation when they may have hurt us out of their ignorance or inexperience, unaware of the need to come forward to ever offer an apology. It is our responsibility to communicate such hurts in an effort to open the doorway to healing. But even still, the apology may never come, or it just may not be sincere to provide true healing.
Dysfunction that surfaced in relationships when I reached out, wounded me further in their chaos and abandonment. I wasted my precious energy staying stuck trying to convince them that I was truly unwell, that it never penetrated beneath the surface to get to the source of the matter of needing to receive support. I felt as though I was just communicating in muffled screams. So in order to free myself from my own prison of expectations or bitterness, I learned that healing is ultimately within the power of my own hands by freely forgiving them in my heart so that I could truly move forward towards my own healing.
I cannot and do not hold it against those who could not know how to be there for me, as postpartum depression was unfamiliar to them, just as it was for me.
It has opened my eyes that I have had to come to accept that those relationships require that I maintain distance, still having space in my heart full of my love for them from afar, so that I can be my best self in wellness as I am raising my own little ones. Sometimes because they choose to continue operating in a hurtful manner by remaining in ignorance, they can be the ones you swing the door wide open to get closest to you and hurt you the deepest.
It has instilled in me to stand that much more firm in what I believe in to be right for me and how I choose to lead my life, even if I must choose to stand alone and apart. It can be so easy to become disheartened by what I know I must choose to be without, but I have learned to dwell on all that I am quite thankful for in what I do have. For me it's peace within myself and in my nest I am raising. The peace that I have in my relationship with the people closest to me who are my true essence of family - my husband and my children, together in a safe haven that we have created, along with precious soul support that have trickled into my life.
POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION |
THE WOMAN IT MADE ME
I am proud and relieved to say that I have emerged from such a broken state and I have my journal and myself to show for having fought back, and in a way, better by moving forward with my newfound self and life ahead. I found the light within me to burst through the darkness. I am changed. I'm not the same as I have gained necessary experience that I've grown and learned from, even if it's seared in the form of a scar. I do not regret having suffered through such an ordeal, for it broke me down so that I could rebuild myself back up, piece-by-piece guided by the authenticity of my soul within that needed these broken cracks to be able to surface. And because of this, I am now able to be grateful for the painful experience that brought about unfolding lessons, leading to my transformation.
I have softened in learning the need for the true essence of humility, empathy, and compassion even more so for those who are in emotional, mental, or physical situations that are uncontrollable or feels beyond their ability to handle. I went through my own hell to emerge with such forged-from-fire qualities. It has also made me aware of my own limitations, as well as the inner strengths I did not know would be key to saving me from myself.
It has tested my relationship with my husband, and although he was affected to the point of almost falling into his own depression with me, we are still by each other's side and have rebuilt our life together still. Our children are everything to us and we live our life for them and surrounded by all that they bring, with a third that was on the way, and taking delight that she's here now taking her first baby steps.
Having fought back for my sense of self and inner peace, digging my nails into the ground and crawling to where I am now at, has made me resolved to not allow anyone to take that from me as I have learned that I must be the sole protector of my mental, emotional, and physical health. I have learned that I can still be a giver that I am, but setting healthy boundaries so I am resolved to surround myself with those who add to my life, rather than take away my precious life-force. Choosing in the understanding that it is better for my well-being to be alone, than to be surrounded by those who deplete or only take from me.
I have my mind. I have my life. I am still rebuilding my life after multiple life events aside from the depression, but as I endeavor to nurture each aspect of my life as it evolves, I have learned that a lot of our happiness and the quality of our life is what we make of it, and it all starts on the inside and within our mind. We cripple our own abilities to be happy if we dwell on what we are without or have against us, using them as excuses for why we don't have the power to live our lives to the full in whatever circumstances we find ourselves in.
Let your mind work for you, not against you. Break down, so the phoenix within you can rise.
Now, take my branch as I guide you and the one who loves you with 10 Ways To Heal From Postpartum Depression.
With LOVE. Always,
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