The future holds so much

I haven't written in this in a long time, and I should tell you all how my journey has continued.

I have been off my medication for 2 months now, and I'm doing well with it. Withdrawal was hell, and the headaches were torturous. Remember, please, that everyone reacts to medication differently though, and that this may not be typical of your (or anyone else's) results. If you are having issues with your medicines, please do not hesitate to contact your prescribing physician for more advice than I have.

Now, you may wonder why I decided to get off the medication. It was partly because our financial situation didn't warrant purchasing them any longer, and partly because every time I missed pills for a few days, I would start to get the withdrawal headaches, and I just wanted to get over and past them so that I could move on with my life.

Emotion-wise, I have been doing far better than I ever imagined I would be. Familial circumstances sometimes make me upset, or sad, or even a little depressed, but my demons are gone for the most part. I don't usually sit and cry during the day. Instead, I interact with my now-toddler son. The hardest part of my day now is teaching HIM how to deal with HIS emotions!

I am forever leaving this blog up, for all those who find it because they are looking, or for those who find it because they are just like I was at the beginning... in trouble. If you're searching for help now, that's a start.

YOU WILL GET BETTER SOMEDAY.

I wish someone had said those words to me during my hardest times. Knowing there is a light at the end of the PPD tunnel might have made it seem more doable. It might have made me get help sooner than I did.

And who knows, those words might just save a life.

So if you have stumbled upon this page, or I gave you the link because I wanted to share my story with you, then please use the "Previous Posts" links at right. They are in chronological order, so you can start from the top and work your way down. Read my story, and know that what you're going through will someday change. Know that you're not alone.

Never "cured"

Eight months ago, I was diagnosed with PPD. Today, I'm still on medication and when I happen to run out and not have enough money to refill, I still have episodes. Today was probably one of the worst since my suicide times back in the beginning. It didn't help that the lawn mower I had purchased off of Craigslist caught fire the first time we tried to use it (a mere three days later), and while we were out running errands my cat knocked the screen out of the window and ran away. Luckily the elderly couple we bought the mower from were nice and gave us back our money, and after an extensive late-night neighborhood search on my husband's part, the kitty was found and returned home. However, I suffered probably the worst breakdown I've had in months.

It was Bad.

My son was whining, and pinching me while I sobbed relentlessly on the floor in a ball over my best kitty friend, and I couldn't take it. I tried to sit him down, but he did his "stiff as a board" thing and refused, so I just let him lay down, only I did it by kind of dropping his head, which of course hit the floor. He started screaming, and I realized what I had done and I started bawling harder. I didn't throw him or drop him from more than an inch or so off the ground, but I caused my little boy pain because I couldn't handle what I was feeling.

I literally felt like the worst mother in the world. An hour later, I still do. Who would ever, EVER do that to her child? It was pure evil of me. I called for my husband (who hadn't yet found the kitty at this point) and in between gasping sobs told him to give up and come home. I didn't trust myself anymore, and neither did my son. It broke my heart.

By the time hubby got him ready for bed, a bottle, and a story, he had forgiven me and most likely forgotten. He reached for his Mommy Snuggles like always, but my heart still ached. A part of me realized that deep down, Postpartum Depression is a lifelong affliction. I will never be "cured". This is the same part of me that is still very afraid to ever get pregnant again for fear I'll have to do all this horribleness over again... the preterm labor, the bed rest, the c-section recovery, the PPD... it's all too scary for me. What's even scarier is the fact that I will probably be on this medication for a very long time, if not forever. I never wanted to be someone who had to rely on some sort of head medicine to stay sane. It was enough I had to rely on prescriptions to breathe. But that is my new identity. I'm a mom who suffers from Postpartum Depression. Both are titles I will hold onto for the rest of my life.

A new "Do Not" for PPD sufferers

DO NOT let your medication lapse. I haven't had the money to refill my Zoloft Rx lately, and so it has been out of my system for three days now. Of course, life would choose just such an occasion to kick me the hardest. Pneumonia with a trip to the ER, and then a lovely huge bank issue involving our 2nd mortgage company taking our payment out twice and causing us to majorly overdraft... those things have sent me back to my dark spiraling place of woe. My son saw me cry and I hate that look he gives me. The "mommy, why are you crying?" look. The one that wonders if it's his fault I'm sad. That look breaks my heart.

So, if you're reading this because you are a sufferer of Postpartum depression like I am, please take my advice and make sure you stay on top of that prescription. It's more important than you think.

Maybe I'm not better yet

Today was one of the hard days. My son was crying... screaming in fact... and I just needed a few minutes to myself. I got a hold of my husband online and asked if he could escape work early to come relieve me, but to no avail. For the first time in over a month, I felt like breaking down and crying. Sometimes it's still too much for one person to handle. I wanted so badly to get some of the chores done around the house, but when your child just wants to be held and have you walk around to entertain him, it just isn't conducive to getting things done.

Then came the fear that has always inevitably followed one of my "freak outs"... the "what am I going to do?" fear. The "I can't handle this" fear. The "someone please save me" fear.

Too bad there isn't a medication to deal with the fear.

PPD-induced Paranoia

I just wanted to write about this newfound phenomenon of mine. I don't know if it's necessarily related to the PPD or not, but I wanted to put it out there. Lately, I am always very worried that people I'm around are mad at me. For some reason, there is always a tone in a voice, a look on a face, some other unspoken body language, or even the lack of any of the aforementioned that makes me feel like I should be sorry about something. I apologize almost constantly, mostly to my husband, although many times I have nothing for which I should be apologizing. I have this constant feeling of guilt.

I have been on my medication for well over a month now, and I do mostly feel better. I still haven't gone back to the therapist, which I'll admit is my own fault. I have a decent excuse in that he only has normal business hours during which I cannot find a babysitter, and for some reason it seems slightly wrong of me to take my baby to my postpartum depression therapy sessions. In my mind I would probably be more reserved about discussing my feelings for fear that my son might hear me and miraculously remember something I said about him, and he'd resent me for it. Totally unfounded, yes, I know.

I have noticed that I am much happier when I'm around my child now. I spend a lot more time actually soothing him, wanting to play with him, and just snuggling him. Much more than I did when he was tiny, and I do have regrets about not enjoying his newborn days as much as I should have. I think, too, that his being able (and, more importantly, willing) to smile and laugh at me has made this a much more enjoyable time. Those smiles and giggles are definitely the best payment I could ever get for a mommy job well done. If there was only some way for nature to work those milestones in a few weeks earlier, I would bet money that there would be less PPD. For me, it's next to impossible to feel like crap when that little boy flashes a huge grin in my direction. I consider it the natural cure for PPD, honestly.

A part of me wonders if I'd be feeling as good as I do without the Zoloft though. I see I'm running low on my prescription, and after several warnings not to quit cold turkey, I'm curious how much of this "feeling better" is me and how much of it is actually the medication. I do know that I don't want to be on it for the rest of my life, but I also know that I don't want to go back to where I started this journey. Never in a million years do I want to return to that place. So my new unanswered question is this: when is one actually BETTER? When is PPD actually gone?

You're not alone

Those are the most important words any PPD sufferer has to hear. Knowing that you're not a freak is a huge part of getting better.

I know I haven't been very good with this blog lately, and I feel bad about that. I started it to deal with my feelings and my journey. I haven't been good with my therapist visits either. His secretary had disappeared after the last appointment, and he wanted me to call back in later to make my next one and I just never got around to it. That was two weeks ago. I need to call him again and make another appointment, I know. Being a stay at home mother means that everyone else is at work all day (including my husband now) and I can't quite get away for an hour session in the middle of the day anymore.

This post will be short, but I am including a link to a blog I've been following since early on in my pregnancy. This mother is only a few weeks behind me and the PPD train hit her really hard. This is a post where she shares her honest feelings, and I wanted to add it here so that others suffering with this same affliction have another point of view, and another way of knowing that we're all not alone.

Post at HisBoysCanSwim.com

The PPD rollercoaster

It's amazing how PPD can really take you on a ride from hell. After reading the post I wrote yesterday, one might think I was really doing well and on the smooth road to recovery. But the road of PPD is anything but smooth, and I hit some major rocks last night. The problem with this affliction is that stress in other aspects of your life can make it so much worse. We are having some financial issues as backlash from me getting laid off, and last night we realized just how bad things are. I looked at my husband and with tears in my eyes told him repeatedly that I couldn't keep doing this anymore (and by "this" I meant mostly the life of being behind in bills, but partially just life) and that there was a whole bottle of unneccessary Lexapro up on my dresser calling my name. Yes, I hit the suicidal low again, and it was frightening beyond all reason. Thankfully, I have a supportive and loving husband who was able to talk me down. But having those thoughts go through my head leaves a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. That's NOT ME. PPD is turning me into this disgusting monster. And I'm afraid.

I started my 50mg dosage of the Zoloft yesterday too, albeit after I was already deep in the depths of depression and anxiety land. I'm hoping that will help pull me back up into the light.

The end of the ride is still very, very far off.