Does Taking a Mental Health Day help for Individuals With PPD & PPA? 

I have been a ghost lately with writing, only keeping up with my social media platfoorms sharing specs of my day.

 

“I was merely taking a break and using my mental health day card.”

 

I can’t begin to tell you what it feels like to have fallen into the abyss. Like your soul stuck in the deep, half fighting to get out, looking for some kind of reason to save itself from falling time and time again. I had called it quits on writing, called it quits on connecting with others, networking with others, and just sharing how everything has been stirring in my pot of life.

The truth is, it started off as a ‘break’ and as time lapsed, it became harder and harder to find myself in the things I thought helped me with self-care. 

 

Then, life happened some more. J, had left for Mexico for another work trip lasting two and a half weeks. His return date was the weekend before our wedding. It made it that much harder to go back to my routine, when you have to be present for the kids ALL.THE.TIME. You get no breaks.

“No breaks to pee, no breaks to shower, no breaks to eat a full meal, no breaks!”

Thankfully, a couple of our friends came for Canada Day with their son, to help busy up my eldest, have some adult conversations for a weekend, and have some extra pair of hands for help. Oh was it helpful, indeed!

 

J, finally came home. He got half a day of rest and the next day we were off to Toronto, for our wedding. We would be spending nine days in total in Toronto, getting last minute stuff done, from baby shoes, to haircuts, to mani-pedi, to all the in-between; I lost energy to accomplish before the week of the wedding. The days before the weekend was spent hanging out with our best of friends, and soaking in the time we don’t usually have when we head back home to Toronto for a weekend. It was indeed a good time.

The day of the wedding came, it was beautiful in all of its glory. The ceremony had everyone in tears, including my middle-child who photobombed our kiss. But in all of its awesomeness, is the fact that J and I are officially married.

 

After the wedding, it was a quick jump to seeing houses to choose one to move to from our current. We went back to Toronto the weekend after our wedding to pick-up Apollo from his Grandparents house, since he insisted on staying after the wedding. That weekend, Artemis had been sick with a fever; cranky all weekend. We attended my cousins wedding, and it was back to Windsor. Artemis still cranky, eventually figuring out she has an ear infection, made it that much harder to get on with finding a new house.

The house we currently have is just absurdly huge for two short adults, and three midgets. J spends a lot of time away, leaving me to do the maintenance of the house and in it’s whole. Well it’s just too big to maintain alone, with three kids. Plus, the cost of our rent is up the bazooka. All the hard work J does makes it feel like more than half of what he takes home is rent. Obviously something had to give. So we ended up finding a big enough house to house our family of 5, but making it a little snug with visitors. It’s doable if you divide everyone per room, haha. So, the crazy of packing and moving slowly has commenced and were due to be out of our old rental and into the new one on Friday. The rush is only so we can make my brother-in-laws birthday this weekend, and because J leaves again on the 3rd. So moving on my own with three kids would be one that would send me to the looney bin.

My life seems to be on a serious roller coaster all the time. It’s become so consistent in falls, I’ve stopped getting that feeling you get in your tummy when you suddenly fall. I almost wish I was just stuck in between the fall and landing. Just sit there, as if I was waiting to be rescued from the technical issue.

 

“My one day mental health day, took a long ass daaay and let me tell you why.”

 

When you have PPD & PPA, it isn’t a matter of the moment you’re angry, or sad, or anxious and it goes away. You spend a long moment, sometimes lasting days feeling down, depressed, anxious, worried, in panic, angry and you cannot pin point the root of where it began and what triggered it. An easy day it seems, doesn’t feel that way internally. You lose all motivation in life, what makes you easily smile is crushed into a billion pieces, what wakes you in the morning is no longer appreciation for another day to live with your loved ones, but another day you dread because..well.. waking-up just hurts all of you. Your soul doesn’t feel bruised, it feels like it’s all jumbled-up and no one can take you out of this nasty ‘rut’ you feel.

The sad thing is, it’s all feelings brought up by your mental thoughts. You say, do affirmations, think positive, but it’s not that easy. Your mind, it takes charge, and it takes over every bit of you and controls you from your emotions. It’s on over drive.

 

“Days, weeks, a month has gone by and this ‘thing’ of a feeling has you on a choke-hold, barely allowing you to breathe, and you’ve accepted that drowning is easier than trying to save yourself. It’s all too hard to.”

 

 

 

MM, out!

In The Shade of Grey

My heart feels heavy.. the way it does when you feel at a loss. These days feel confusing, uncertain of whether or not it’s my own feelings or postpartum depression seeping in. I feel sad, the way you do when you’ve lost a pet or maybe your favourite shirt. The feeling of unsettling prying at you. Again, I cannot tell you why. I don’t know why.

My mind seems to never retain anything these days. From reading, to small reminders, I cannot for the life of me, remember! My mind feels lost..like it’s not there. My thoughts all jumbled up.. weary of what I should be remembering, but don’t.

 

 

I have no motivation for anything. Not inspired on my own but with everything else. Does that make sense to you? It doesn’t to me. I don’t know what I want. I used to. I used to be so sure. I knew how to go about it. I knew how to get it. I knew how hard I’d need to work for it. But I knew what I wanted..and that I would get it. I’ve done it this way for as long as I can remember.. but now.. now, I feel nothing. No persistence, no efforts, no clue, nothing!

I keep telling myself this illness will pass. That it won’t be forever, that I’ll find my way again. But deep down, I’m afraid. I’m afraid for feeling imprisoned by this unsettling feeling of uncertainty. I’m afraid to feel so deep into this, that I don’t even know where to start to figure this illness out or fix it. No one else can do it for me. Medication merely makes it bearable, but who wants to just bear it? I want it gone.

I’m obviously not mentally strong enough, the way I thought I was.. to be able to mentally right this. The weight on my heart that makes it so hard to breathe. My constant anger repressed so that my children wouldn’t get the worst of it. I’m done letting this break my children. I’m made more efforts in fixing what I’ve already broken with my son..it’s working! I’m so glad for that. But deep down, the things I try so hard to control it’s heavy! It’s hard to! I’m slowly losing my grip.

 

It went from a really awesome Mother’s Day, to turning twenty-nine, to feeling absolutely lost!


I’m not prepared to battle this, I really am not. I don’t know the first step to. I don’t ever know how to shake it off. I feel like I’m drowning into the abyss of whatever this illness is.

I look at that photo of my children and me, and all I can think about is how much of that moment, I recall. Did I feel happy, genuinely? My smile.. it beams so effortlessly, it makes me feel like I was, happy.. in that moment. Then I look into my eyes, I see it stare right through me.

I don’t have any easy out in this post. I cannot leave you feeling settled or with a resolution.. all I have is a boundless feeling of shame and guilt. 


 

 

This is my struggle with postpartum depression.

 

 

 

 

MM, out!

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