About Me

Kent, United Kingdom
I have the perfect family but still struggle to find the light in the darkness of post-natal depression.

Monday, 3 January 2011

Four weeks...

Tomrrow is the four week milestone, but the laptop is powered up today so it seemed as good a time as any.
I'm not sure what kind of post this will be, so apologies in advance. I've started writing it in my head several times over the last few days and it changes depending on what sort of day it's been. I've decided just to let my fingers do their thing and see what comes out.
So there have been more bad days. Some good ones too but they can have bad moments as well. On a really bad day it feels like I'm losing my mind; like it's disappearing piece by piece over the edge into the abyss. And if I peer over after it what I see is so terrifying I can't even think about trying to retrieve it.
On a normal bad day, it feels like everything is just too much effort. Even getting off the sofa.
But on a good day, when one child is asleep and I can spend quality time with the other one, I'm not sure what the drama is about.
Mark is back at work next week - tomorrow in fact - so that will present a whole new challenge. I have a lot lined up to keep us busy with lovely friends playing their part with play dates and evenings in.
I do still feel disappointed in others who have been less helpful. Or less present. Or who seem to be able to make the effort for others but not me. Perhaps it's the old mental illness stigma, perhaps it's that it's just more fun to visit someone more cheerful and less mad. Or perhaps I'm just paranoid.
It has been suggested that I ask for help from them, and others, and see what happens. I'm tempted to do so as a social experiment if nothing else - watch this space.
Baby d is stirring so my time here is up for now. But I'll leave with an important (to me at least!) reminder. I know most of you lovely readers are here because you care or because you are interested in the PND experience. But I also know (thanks to Google analytics!) that there are some here for other reasons.
I don't care if this is emailed around the office as a good laugh ("see what that mad cow is up to now"). I started this blog all those years ago with the declaration that I was not ashamed. And it's still true. I may be on the road to happy pill heaven again but I'm not ashamed of it. So I will continue to be honest here for the sake of those who need help staying strong - and for myself.


Jenni said...

Gotta love Google analytics.... however ANYONE who would take your breathtaking honesty and genuine attempts to lift the lid on a devastating and sadly stigmatised condition is an utterly disgusting human being... I hope they read this post. I hope they see that they have been caught out. I hope to God they have enough decency to be ashamed of themselves. Truly appalling behaviour.

Keep your chin up chuck - you know you can do this. xxx

Scott & Yael said...

You should ask for help. You really should. Been trying to email you but I'm just so sick and the little one has an ear infection now. But I will get to it by the end of the weekend at the latest. In the meantime, hugs!!! Stay strong.


Anonymous said...

Ask for help, they'll be frustration if you don't. You'd be amazed at how many people don't want to interfere, but want to be there. Besides, who can resist cuddles whilst you get to chill, chat or share dinner with a group of pre-schoolers!

I am pretty sure anyone reading this with the intention of using it as laughing material will not be reading comments. However, shame on them, but good on you for carrying on. PND is a horrid experience and perhaps if more people faced it honestly and openly, there wouldn't be such shame and hiding of it by those who need help the most.

Chin up, keep at it, we'll get there with you.