Rising From The Cesspit

So, 2014 is my ‘Year Of Healing’ and so far I’ve managed to achieve some kind of mental breakdown. Winner. The plans of a miraculous recovery aren’t proving fruitful as yet. But, it’s ok, we’re only two weeks in. Sometimes you’ve got to hit the bottom before you can work your way up, right?

I had it bad when Moo was born. In those first few days when I’d lay awake having one panic attack after another, begging my husband to give our newborn daughter up for adoption. The difference this time is that I was much more introverted with my suffering. There were less tears, no shouting, just anxiety and numbness and plans of pills and roads and apology letters. The things that the malfunctioning mind can think of are quite frightening.

Now that I’m down here at the bottom of the shit barrel of life, and by the mercy of my own guilt and cowardice, I’m still alive, it’s time to start climbing. I’ve had enough of wallowing in the cesspit of post natal depression. My mental health needs a makeover.

I’ve started on a higher dose of anti depressants and am seeing my doctor next week. It’s time to fill him in on all of it. I’m quite the actress at the doctors surgery, playing down any ailment. The truth will be revealed. The insomnia, the lack of energy, the thoughts of suicide, the post traumatic stress disorder symptoms, the anxiety. It all needs to go. It’s affecting my work, my parenting and my relationships. I’ve had enough.

I’ve decided that I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and if it means taking drugs that aren’t compatible with breastfeeding, or stopping the Domperidone, then I’ll quit pumping. I never thought I’d be one to say this, but my mental health is so much more important to Moo than breast milk. I might really fuck her up with this if I don’t get myself sorted. I’m already living with the knowledge that mental health conditions are often hereditary. I don’t need her memories to be scarred by upset and detachment and insecurity.

Be prepared that my blog posts might get messy. I’m sure my tweets will be of the somewhat random variety. I want this blog to be as authentic as possible, sugar coating it doesn’t help anyone. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Big love,

TPM

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Posted on January 16, 2014, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 12 Comments.

  1. Good luck 🙂 Here’s hoping for a solution that allows you to continue feeding Moo, but you’re spot on about your mental well being being more important than breastmilk.
    Thanks for writing so honestly x

  2. You’re right about your mental health being more important. If you’re happy or at least happy more of the time than you are now the benefit to baby moo will exceed anything else. Baby moo development socially, attachment, etc. Good luck just remember what you are feeling now will not last forever just as extreme happiness doesn’t last forever it’s the balance we all want.

  3. Good luck! You are doing well just by making the decision. Thats the first step. There is light at the end of the tunnel, I’ve been there and it feels like it will never end, but it does. Look after yourself,
    Cx

  4. As the daughter of a mother who had appalling PND I just wanted to say all power to you. If it is at all possible, try not to over-think your relationship with your little one. My mother and I bonded rather badly when I was an infant – breastfeeding didn’t even come into it. But once she was well again the months and years that followed more than made up for it, and we’ve been as close as you could imagine ever since. All the very best to you and your little moo.

  5. I think you are so brave. Your honesty in describing how you feel is inspiring, especially for someone like me who had depression during pregnancy and after the birth. I felt as though I couldn’t tell anyone because I was so ashamed about my feelings. But I’m so glad that you see how important it is to talk (& blog in your case) about it and that you are seeking help. Your right, what Moo needs most is a happy mother, even if that means no longer getting breastmilk. Good luck with it all and thank you for writing this blog 🙂

    • Thank you so much for your comment. I’m sorry to read that you’ve also suffered.

      I’m hoping that talking about it breaks down the stigma and helps mothers feel less alone, including myself.

      Big love mama.

  6. I’ve fought depression and panic attacks for years but have been free for 2 or 3 years.

    The only think that will cure for good it is being open and honest with the people you love. I promise, you can do it – and maintain it. Big hugs.

    But the drugs are nice too!

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