Depression

Alright everyone, it's time to get vulnerable.

I have suffered with various degrees of depression throughout my life. This is not something that I am ashamed of sharing with people, but it's not something that I generally scream to the world. I am a pretty social person, and I don’t really enjoy being the depressed Debbie downer of the group, and I have learned to mask most of my emotions with humor. And let’s be honest… I’m fucking hilarious. Lately, however, this has not been the case.

I have fallen into one of the deepest depressions I have ever been in.

This was something that was really hard for me to come to terms with. I had overcome my depression for over a year, and after having Brinlee, it hit me really hard. It made me feel weak. I didn’t want to be the stereotypical suffering mom that has postpartum depression. I wanted to be strong and happy and I wanted everyone to see how amazing I was at being a mom.

Since coming back to work, I have cried in the bathroom every single day. I miss my baby. I want to be home with her. I chalked all of my feelings up to that and moved on. This weekend was when it really hit me how bad my depression is.

Andrew’s sister came to town. This is a visit we have been looking forward to for months, as it was the first time she got to meet Brinlee. As the weekend creeped closer, I cried at work because I wanted to be home with Brinlee. When I got home with Brinlee, I cried because I felt like I’m never with her enough. When we were with Andrew’s family, all I wanted to do was go home and be alone. I wanted to curl up in a ball, and cry myself to sleep, and then stay that way for days and days. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see his sister, I just didn’t want to see anyone. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to be alone and I cried because that made me feel like a bad mom.

Every night, I lay awake and think about all the ways I’m screwing up as a parent. Should I really have had that margarita? Should I really be carpooling? I get home so much later when I do. Should I have changed her diaper sooner? Should I have let her cry for as long as I did?

I know that I am being irrational. It’s not that I don’t know that I’m depressed or that these thoughts are ridiculous, I just don’t know how to fight them. I am trying so hard to do what’s best, but it feels like no matter what I’m choosing, I’m still going to choose wrong.

This post is embarrassing for me to write. It is hard to write out my feelings for everyone to read. It is hard for me to admit that I’m having such a hard time. The only reason I am is because no one else will. I know that there are other moms that suffer this, because they’ve told me so. The problem is that it’s only brought up during private conversation. Yes, it’s embarrassing and I feel ashamed, but I don’t want others to feel the same way. This is a common problem, with some suffering worse than others, so if anyone reading this has depression, please don’t be ashamed or feel alone because you aren’t the only one.

I know that with time I will feel better. I know that soon I will be able to go back home and stay there, instead of coming into work every day. I just hope that this post will help someone else. The worst part is feeling so alone.