I've Survived for 3 Months

It’s been almost three months since I was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression.

It doesn’t seem like a long time but when your mind is constantly fighting against you it can feel like an eternity.

I still struggle with negative feelings towards my son and motherhood. There are days I can’t bear to hear my son scream, so I blast my happy music with my headphones on. There are days when all I want to do is get one little thing done, like put away a load of laundry, and it takes me all day because I have to take so many breaks to take care of my son.  I really don’t like being me on those days. Those are the days that I want to run away and never come back.

However, I’ve found the things that make each day better. Sometimes for weeks at I time I feel like I’m functioning, and not just surviving.

I’ve made a small list of things to do every day. Like water my plants, vacuum, read my scriptures, and check the mail. And then every day of the week has something unique that I’m supposed to do as well. Monday is mending, Tuesday is laundry, Wednesday is baking, Thursday is reading, Friday is crafting, Saturday is deep cleaning, and Sunday is whatever makes me happy day. And you know what? It’s working. There’s a variety to my day to day life with things that make me happy or make me feel productive. I’ve also been working on my craft blog and trying to make things to display for my craft business.  

What else is wonderful about feeling just a little bit more human is that I can see my son as a person rather than the cause of all my problems. I see how much he loves people, how curious he is and how calm he can be as he takes new things in. I’m not worried about him feeling neglected by me when he’s being babysat. I honestly think that he will flourish in daycare and preschool because of his social nature.  Knowing that my son is happy among strangers makes me feel awesome about returning to school and following my dreams to be a teacher.

So life is life. There are good days, bad days, and some days that start out one and end the other. But the most important thing to know is that I’m doing okay. And when I’m not okay, I have the best friends and family that take time out their busy lives to call me, to post a thoughtful message or a funny picture, or to give me a break from my screaming son.

I’m just glad that I’ve kept my promise to myself that I made a year ago- that I would let people know the truth about how I was doing. So far it’s kept me alive and for that I am grateful.