I have to have a bit of a ‘coming clean’ moment real quick:
Shortly after Ari was born, I wrote about my struggle with Postpartum Depression. And that was hard enough. But now that it’s been nearly 16 months since I was truly postpartum, I’ve come to realize that I am in the midst of something bigger; something deeper.
I’ve been afraid to say it out loud or write it for so long, but here it goes…
I’m suffering from depression.
The stigma associated with the word ‘depression’ is intense. Some will immediately think “What does he/she have to be so sad about? She has (insert everything they need here).” And part of that is true. I have everything I need. I have a home, I have food, I have a job, and I have my family. And that other thing I have? Is that I have no idea what makes me feel so sad.
When I finally came clean to my friends and family about how I have been feeling over the last year, it brought me both relief and exhaustion — I knew I now had to — and wanted to — truly get it under control.
I can’t explain much yet, because honestly I just don’t know. But I’ve been working with a therapist and will continue to do so for a while. Because I want to be happy again. Like, really happy again. And I want to be me again.
I’m so lucky to have the support of my husband and family. I know that my ‘blues’ are certainly causing ‘blues’ for those around me, too. All the more reason I want to get better. I want to be the best me for ME and for THEM.
But me first. Because that’s what I have to do — make ME better so I can be better for THEM. (I realize that was a fairly convoluted way of saying ‘put your own oxygen mask on first’, but roll with it!).
The dark place will be gone; the cycle will end. I’m just putting this out there so that if you are in the same boat you know… you’re not alone.
And if no one out there feels this way, that’s OK, too. This is my battle. And I’m not afraid to be honest about it.