Hello everyone. I feel like I know most of you... I've been reading your posts for months. Theresa, you know me. I am finally ready to talk about what I've been going through, and I know you girls are very understanding. So much has happened to me in such a short period of time. For awhile I felt like I was never going to make it, but I know now that it was just the depression talking. My journey begins the very moment I had my son. I had a c section, and when they held him up over the curtain, instead of feeling joy... I felt nothing. I even thought he was ugly! My own son. I never told anyone that. In the hospital I thought I was just tired, and not quite sure how to accept another little one yet. I remember people coming to visit me, and feeling very anxious and wanting them to go. I balled hysterically the night before we left, and I was unsure why. The first few weeks home were horrible. I cried constantly, feeling like I had betrayed my oldest son. Feeling awful for bringing another baby into the house. He was so angry with me and I felt horribly guilty. My husband wasn't doing much better. He was not so into the whole newborn thing again. I was trying to recover from surgery AND keep my husband and two year old happy while taking care of a new baby that I felt such a disconnect to. I think it may have been baby blues at that point, but I'm not sure. I threw myself into getting back to "the old me" as quickly as possible. My husband confessed that HE was becoming depressed because I was depressed. I couldn't have that. I decided I wasn't depressed anymore. I completely ignored the doctor's orders for not picking up my two year old. I was doing alright until my 6 weeks check up. I was in a lot of pain, and was scared I had done something terribly wrong and was going to die. She told me it sounded like muscle pain, and to take some ibuprofen. For whatever reason, it triggered something in me and I became SEVERLY depressed and so afraid that I was going to die, or rip open inside and bleed internally. I went back to her every week and called almost every day because the pain wasn't going away and I wasn't feeling any better. I think the nurse was getting completely fed up with me. Why couldn't I move on?? Not only was my scar a complete wreck, my back was hurting badly too. I decided to go to GP. She listened to everything, told me I had overdone it, did a vaginal exam and an ultrasound and said everything looked fine and if I still couldn't relax she would put me on meds for anxiety. I REFUSED medication. I wasn't depressed... couldn't be. I was in pain and nothing was helping, or so I thought. It's funny how looking back, I wish I would have just taken the doctor's advice and taken the medication, took it easy for awhile, and got back going again. Instead I spent days crying, and googeling what could possibly be wrong with me, what had I done? Finally, a few weeks later I went back to my GP I told her how much pain I was still in and she agreed to do a CAT scan. My results were great everything was healing great. We agreed it was some scar tissue and that my back should be looked at by a physical therapist. But I didn't go to PT because I had no one to watch my kids. I thought I'd be fine, it would heal... I'd do some exercise and stop wallowing in self pity and move on. Well, it didn't get better, it got WORSE. I finally called and went to PT. I spent a couple months in therapy working through my pain... learning how to lift properly and massage my scar to break up the scar tissue. I have come a LONG way physically, but mentally I'm still struggling. My husband did NOT want me taking antidepression meds. He convinced me I could get over it without medication.... I just needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. I disagreed. I spent nights awake so anxious and not being able to let go of the past and move forward and just be happy. I was constantly afraid I was going to get injured again... I still kind of feel that way, but I'm getting better. I even thought about jumping out a windown one night. I entertained the idea of giving my baby up for adoption and all kinds of STUPID ridiculous things.I know this wasn't me... this was something else, and I needed help or I was going to wither away. I started taking Celexa, but that wasn't for me. I broke out in a rash all over. I decided I needed to try something else.... so I've been on Zoloft for a little over 2 weeks. I'm feeling a lot better.... and it's stopping my mind from racing constantly. I WANT to be done with this. I'm so mad that it's all happened. I know I need to let go of the past, let the medicine do it's job, and start enjoying my life. But it's hard. There is so much more I could say... but it's becoming a long story. Anyways, it feels good to get this off of my chest. Thanks for listening. I know I sound like a complete nut, but I swear I'm a totally sane women. Theresa can vouche for that. I have just been through the mill and am ready to let the past stay in the past, accept that it happened and was horrible, and learn to deal with it in a healthy way and start enjoying my life again. I'm glad I started taking medication, even though my husband had me convinced it was going to change me. I feel like just getting this out in the open is a step in the right direction....
you have been through so much and here you are - taking the reins, being strong, and doing what you need to do to fight off this terrible beast. I'm so so so proud of you for being so intuitive in listening to your body and your mind to recognize that things weren't quite right. You don't need to have anyone vouch for you or assure us that you're sane. We know you are. We've been where you have been so we get you!
Thank you for sharing your story here - I am sure it will help others down the road just as the other stories have helped you.
And as you know, I don't accept apologies for long stories - I believe everyone has a right to share their experience as much (or as little) as they want to!
Thanks again and I look forward to seeing you around more often!
Thank you for sharing your story. I believe that your honesty and strength will help someone else out there who is also struggling. Best wishes on your journey of healing.
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