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It's been a LONG time since I've blogged about stuff. I've been behind on the Art of Extreme Self-care Read-a-long and other things. Sure, I can name a slew of excuses for my slacking like I work full time, a mommy to a very active toddler, and working on Urban Goddess Mama-to-be (coming out next month). While these are very valid, they, unfortunately, are not the real reason I've been tardy with my blogging.
Most of you know my struggle with postpartum depression and how I've been able to conquer the challenges brought on by this debilitated disorder. Over the last few months I've done super well and was starting to feel like my normal self. I even started writing fiction again- something that hasn't happened for two years. Been sleeping real well, too. Besides the occasional down day that everyone experiences once in a while, I
Stone ledge by stone ledge, I was almost out of the dark well, when I slipped and fell right back into the waters below. But this time it was different.
Back in August, my OB advised me to stay on Zoloft at least until after I weaned my daughter and my hormones balanced out again. She said that I might have another bought of depression. Also my fibromyalgia started to flare up again, which I know brings on depression if I don't control the pain. So I visited my acupuncturist and also did some self-care.
A little over three weeks ago, my daughter nursed for the last time. She'd been slowly decreasing her request for "mama milk" over the last month. As liberating as weaning can be, I felt sad for loosing one of my favorite ways to connect with my daughter. Breastfeeding had been the single bond that made me feel like I'd done something right when I went through a very dark period last year.
A week ago, my shoulder started to hurt so bad that I couldn't sleep. I visited my acupuncturist again. Two days later I woke up to find that the black fog I'd fought had finally settled in. Again. I felt pissed. Everything my daughter did brought rage. And of course, she woke up in a bad mood too.
What made the situation worse was we were both at the beach with my goddess ladies staying in a gorgeous house in a perfect location. Yet here I was feeling like scum on the bottom of sewer worker's shoe. Most of the ladies were sleeping so I decided to take my daughter down to the beach because she was starting to throw a tantrum and I didn't want to wake anyone.
Things got worse once outside. She started to scream and very dark thoughts filled my head- the kind that I hadn't had in a long time. The imagines that played through my head scared the shit out of me, because I didn't trust myself not to act on them in the state I was in.
I quickly grabbed her and went back to the car. I figured she'd be safer in the car seat and if I drove around maybe she'd fall asleep and that would allow me to deal with my demons. After an hour of driving, sleep didn't seem to be on the menu. My back up plan when I get this way had always been my parents. They were an hour away and I thought about taking her there, but I needed to get back to the house to get her things.
When I returned, everyone was up. My girl went off to play with one of the other kids who came along as well. Pure exhaustion hit me like a tsunami. All I wanted was to crawl into bed and check out. The fatigue was so great I didn't even have enough energy to ask the other women to watch my girl for a couple of hours so I could sleep. I just crawled into bed and passed out.
Two hours later, my daughter came into my room and wanted to crawl in bed with me. This time when I woke up I felt more human. Bright sunlight flooded my room, warming my bed. We snuggled together, while she told me what she'd been doing with her new friends. Then she turned to me and said, "Mama sleepin'. Mama tired. I love you, Mama."
Tears filled my eyes as she threw her arms around my neck. "I love you too, baby," I whispered back. The ladies had fed her, changed her diaper, and made sure she was cared for so I could rest and care for myself.
The rest of the day turned out to be a magical day filled with crafts, play, drinks, food, and lots of laughter. As the day progressed, I thought about the dark place I had been in that morning and how quickly things had turned bad, yet they changed for the better just as quickly. Depression is nothing to mess with.
I'm so thankful for my goddess ladies and the support they gave me when I needed it the most. I'm thankful for my OB who warned me this could happen and so I knew what was happening. But I also want to thank you, dear readers, for your support and understanding. You rock.
