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.