Attempting to live and breathe for an audience of one
Perhaps this is a blog post that belongs on my other blog, depression introspection, but this blog has been rather active so I prefer to post the following here.
My psychiatrist has added two more medications to my regimen. I was on Abilify and Prozac daily. I took Ativan as needed. Now, I’m on Abilify, Lamictal, and Prozac daily with Xanax as needed. Continue reading “A Place with No Name”
Still struggling.
Feeling hopeless. Like a disappointment. Like a failure.
Having someone take care of my son part-time feels like a failure on my part. Like I can’t hack this mom thing.
Oh, and I just got my yearly reminder in the mail: I have a frozen embryo on tap. What do I want to do with it?
I want to discard it. Because I can’t imagine that I can be a good mother a second time around. I’m having a hard time being a good mom THIS time around.
But I won’t. My morals (belief in the value of life and all that jazz) won’t let me do that.
Postpartum depression, anxiety, OCD—all of it—has taken a hold of my soul and won’t let go. I have cried several times this week. More times than I’ve cried since the sixth week of my son’s life.
The screechy crying. It’s like the wail of a dying baby. It never ceases to freak me out. I feel like such a horrible mom for strapping him into the car seat while he’s crying and then the high-pitched wail reverberates through the car sending figurative splinters under my nails.
I still have thoughts of suicide but little impulse to act upon it. Right now.
I’m still here.
https://thisjourneyismyown.wordpress.com/selected-lyrics/by-a-thread/
(I think this is the month for Michael Jackson quotations. I mean, after all, he did pass away during the month of June.)
Where do I begin?
If you’re reading this after having recently commented on my last post, Heaven Can Wait, thank you. I always felt alone and as though I didn’t really matter in the world. Then came a storm of warrior moms (I can see why they call y’all warrior moms now!) to my rescue. They encouraged me that things will get better. That this too shall pass. That I am not alone.
The sun is beginning to peek through the overcast sky in my life. I’m feeling worlds better than Tuesday. And even better than when Saturday when I replied to many of your comments.
I am working with a therapist at the Postpartum Stress Center in Rosemont, PA and we have come up with a solution that can make me an even better mom: have someone else care for my son part-time. Whether that means part-time daycare or a part-time nanny, it will allow me the space and opportunity to take of myself while supporting my family. While I was pregnant, my husband and I decided that I should be a “full-time” stay-at-home mom and work part-time (I work at a library 2 to 3 days a week). Now, it’s looking as though I will be a “part-time” stay-at-home mom who also works part-time. Perhaps getting another caregiver to help me with my son is not me being a bad mom; it’s a way for me to keep my sanity, keep myself alive, and keep myself involved in my son’s life.
I have a call in to my psychiatrist to see him sooner than July 29. I had been doing so well…
I don’t know how many warrior moms are reading this, but I can’t say thank you enough to everyone for their encouragement. It means a lot to hear from other women who have been where I am and tell me to keep going.
Also, Postpartum Progress is a major resource that I’ve been able to use (and raise funds for!). I also want to send a shout-out to Lauren H. (@unxpctdblessing) who runs #PPDChat on Twitter. That group of women was there for me before I even got help.
I had hoped to participate in a local Climb Out of the Darkness in my area, but I don’t know if that will happen. In the meantime, here’s a video celebrating many of the warrior moms who have reclaimed their lives against perinatal and postpartum mood disorders.
I’m constantly trying to figure out who I am. Should I go by my Twitter bio?
Jesus follower, wife, mother, daughter, Haitian-American, Presbyterian (PCA), Beatles fan, pop princess, non-mommy blogger, suicide survivor, and more…
My Twitter bio only allows 140 characters so I’ve always wondered what I would add as “more” if I had unlimited space. But I also want to define how I describe myself in my Twitter bio. So here goes nothing… Continue reading “Twitter bio and more…”
This Journey Is My Own 