On my way to losing a marathon!

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Postnatal Depression FTW!!

Just so we're clear, I'm not depressed.  Don't let the Cherokee worthy Trail of Tears I'm leaving behind fool you.  I. am not. depressed.

I'm ridiculously sleepy, and that's totally different.

And in point of fact, I haven't cried at all in like, 3 days.  So booyah.

Also, I've been depressed before, so I very much know what I'm talking about.  The last significant time being early on in my first pregnancy, when the crazy part of me was convinced that I was a scourge on society, the world in general and more specifically my family, and that, say, dying during childbirth and leaving my family a handsome life insurance policy would be the best thing for everyone involved.   And then the less crazy part of me said, "Lady, you're depressed.  Have a cry, take a nap, and getoveryourself."  *Lucky* for me, it was the year 2009 and you really have to go out of your way to die during childbirth in 2009.

Side note: The best part about having a post graduate psychology degree in psychology and experience as both therapist and thera...pee?  is being able to call out your own crazy.  I am, if nothing else, a bona fide expert at calling myself a lunatic.

But the point is, these days I'm not, NOT depressed.  That being said, absolutely everything makes me cry.  I definitely blame my children, as they have very obviously broken me.

Example 1:  Stupid folksy music.
My husband and his family love Peter Paul and Mary.  Personally, I think this is a poor life choice, as they are a bunch of corn-dog hippies with semi-ridiculous music.  Years ago, my father-in-law tried to convince me how incredible they were by presenting the song "Danny's Downs".  It's the story of how a set of parents find out their newborn has Downs Syndrome and choose to NOT kill him (wow, you didn't kill your baby... do you want a medal?!?)  It includes the incredible line, "Danny's Downs, but love is up".  Brilliant, right?  I spent a good amount of time explaining to my well intentioned in-laws how incredibly stupid this song was.  And rightly so.  Because it's stupid.

Only now, this song makes me cry.  No, this song makes me weep uncontrollably.  Because it also has a sagely old Jamaican woman telling the parents to take their baby home with them because "God's gifts are only good, you know".  It also talks about Danny riding his own bus home and carrying his little lunch box, and good heaven's, I can't handle it.  The crying comes and won't stop ever.

Example 2: Poop.
On Mother's Day, my husband was working at church, and I stayed home with the kids, as all 4 of us were actually quite sick.  With a cold.  No excuse for all the poop.  Just the same, my potty training toddler and my vicious little newborn chose to spend the whole morning cranky and yelling and pooping on everything, myself included.  I don't even know where all the poop came from, they seem far too small to hold so much smelly demon inside, but there you have it.  It truly was a Mother's Day, or more appropriately, a Mother's Trial By Fire Day.  I'll bet other people got flowers, or taken out to lunch, right?  Psh. Amateurs.  What does THAT have to do with being a mother?

Anyway, I was exhausted and sick with very few coping skills.  So I just cried.  All morning.  I leaked a steady stream from the face while I changed diapers and scrubbed every surface in the bathroom as well as some of the carpet.  Because my tear ducts are my only pressure release valve, and some days I need a pressure release valve.  You know.  Cuz of the poop.

So there you have it.  NOT depressed.  Now I'm going to go hang out with my kids because at the moment, this very very strange moment, everyone is awake, and no one is crying and no one is pooping.  Not letting this one get away from me.

Happy day y'all!!

2 comments:

  1. I love you. I sweat and cried through the first month. I think you call it baby blues? Not depression, but wacky hormones and no sleep. I fortunately read somewhere on the internet that night sweats and moodiness go hand and hand. I felt better knowing it was normal to soak the sheets with sweat at night and cry during the day.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Reminds me of that old SNL sketch:

    "I'm not a woman anymore, I'm a MOM!"

    ReplyDelete

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