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!

Update on My Postpartum Depression, Postpartum Anxiety & OCD (A month after)

 

It’s been a little bit over a month, since I seen the doctor for the initial diagnosis of my postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety & OCD. I had met with him again just last Tuesday to see how the medication he’s prescribed is working for me. I had to refill that prescription for the second time, before seeing him again, since the month after visit went a bit over a month to get an appointment with him.

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Here’s my update

• I still get a lot of down days
• I still get overwhelmed easily
• My anger is still uncontrollable
• My head still feels foggy
• I still have a hard time focusing
• I have a hard time remembering things
• I still can’t sleep at night
• My eating habbits are still outta whack (lost 10 lbs)
• Days when I feel super down, It’s really hard to snap out of it
• I feel unmotivated 50% of the time

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But…

• I don’t cry as often
• I push myself harder to get out of bed, and actually get out of bed
• I’m learning to control being angry all the time
• I’m able to leave the house and run errands more than before
• I’m okay with seeing people again – just not for long periods of time
• I’ve learned to slow down on doing things and not finding it a burden to have to do it there and then
• I’m taking breaks
• I’m noticing better, when I’m burnt out
• My relationship with my son, is slowly getting better 

 

The doctor has increased the dosage of the same medication he previously prescribed and advised me that in a month, if it still appears to not be working then he’ll either raise the dosage again, or change the medication.

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Here’s thing about going through postpartum depression of any levels, it doesn’t matter what medication you take it will not get rid of it but just help you deal with it “better”. The professionals on this topic also advises to take some type of counselling. Whats happened in your past, is most likely a contributor to this sickness. All the pent-up emotions you did so well to hide, is what’s actually creeping out and attacking you. So talking to a professional counselor helps you determine part of the root of the problems that linger, that you’re not dealing with, but it doesn’t get rid of postpartum depression, or any other level of ppd. It takes time, it requires work, it requires motivation to get better, it requires for you, the individual itself to want to get better. It’s a journey. It’s a battle. It’s an experience, but you don’t have to become it. You can choose everything after it.

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♥

Thank you for following my journey with Postpartum Depression/Anxiety & OCD. Your support has been wonderful. I am here for you, just as you are for me. Remember that it’s better to go through this with someone, than alone.

If you know anyone who appears to be going through something that sounds like postpartum depression, please listen. Please do not judge. Please be kind. If you need help, ask. If you don’t know what’s wrong, see your physician.

♥

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!

May: Mental Health Awareness Month

May is an observed month for Mental Health Awareness in the United States since 1949. 

 

Though I am not a citizen of America, I share the experience of Mental Illness with the whole world. And sharing my experience is an important point I’d like to advocate for on my blog. 

• Mental Health Awareness week is May 1st – May 7th in Canada.
• The statistics in Canada for women who reported going through postpartum depression is 7.5%.

 

 

 

 

If you are not a follower of my blog, I want you to know that I suffer from Postpartum Depression & Anxiety, OCD that I recently just discovered. The statistics in Canada for women who reported going through postpartum depression is 7.5%. That’s not a huge number in terms of reports of women having it. I say this because, it is not an illness that women/men openly talk about, but this is a very common and unexpected illness that most new parents and parents in general experience in first few years.

Having shared my initial experience of finding out I have it, was a struggle on its own but the outpouring support from the community of bloggers have mostly mentioned how this is not a common topic talked enough about. There isn’t much light being brought to raise awareness of this illness. Just like anyone would be concerned about cancer, this too is an illness that cannot be controlled and should gain the concern it requires.

 

Its an illness that that hides inside of the person and finds itself free to attack the person at any unexpected moment. 

 

What makes it even worse is the fact that it’s a mental health illness. Just say mental health in your head again, and what comes to mind? A person with an unstable mind? A person who is capable of bad things because they’re not all there, up there? A person who cannot perform their usual duties as a citizen or an individual because their brain cannot function like a ‘normal person’? That’s the stigma talking. That’s also the stigma stuck in my head when I first thought about what it would be like to share this with others.

FEAR!

Individuals who experience some sort of Mental Illness, struggle internally to share in words that would allow the receiver to understand.  The truth is, most individuals who experience mental illness cannot always find the words to say without sounding like they are ‘crazy’. Your mind plays tricks on you. You’re not really sure why you’re thinking, what you’re thinking–why you’re irrational, emotional and absolutely out of character.  Well it’s a chemical imbalance. Your emotions are all out of whack, even though the issue is with your brain that’s mostly, usually realistic, rational, and stern; with mental illness, none of that is how it’s supposed to be.

 

Mental illness is not something anyone just fixes for the person suffering. It is not an illness that the individual can just brush off and everything returns to ‘normal’.
It is an illness that cannot be helped (I repeat this because for those who don’t know this is a common misconception). 

There are a lot of people who choose to be ignorant about mental illness. Those people who have never experienced it with someone they love or for themselves.  People who don’t care enough about the importance of why this illness matters enough to be talked about. Sure back then (40’s, 50’s, maybe early 60’s) this isn’t a thing to be sharing with the world. It means you got sent to an institution because they didn’t have a solution for this. And what they did have for it was more pain. 

“Well, here’s the thing..you have to really think outside of your ass in order to really understand this. You’re not going to find it in there. This is just as important to understand as anything else that threatens the value of life.”

 

Mental illness doesn’t just affect the person who has it but also those dearest to their heart. It affects families. The challenges of this illness takes a tole on each individual members of a family. The tole of this illness is the very thing that makes the feeling of guilt ever so present in motherhood.

HAVING CHILDREN IS NOT THE MAIN CAUSE OF THIS ILLNESS! 

There are several factors to why an individual finds themselves with this illness. The majority of women I have been able to connect with who suffer from this illness has openly shared the traces of their sickness reaching back to before they even had children. Having children is one of the factors that contributes at a later time in life, but it is an illness that roots from past experiences. Yes it can be from the sudden change of life experiences, in motherhood but for the most part this illness is traced from what’s already happened that the individual has fought to shove in a box, in the back of their minds. It can be hereditary. Something you didn’t know runs in your family bloodline. For someone who’s not aware of her roots, this is something I cannot trace back to roots. One thing I am certain of though is that, I’ve a lot of pent up anger that roots from my childhood that I kept in an box inside, far back that has now found its way creeping in on top of all the other stressor accompanying motherhood. 

If you know anyone who appears to be having a hard time emotionally, please offer to listen. Don’t judge or start diagnosing someone of what YOU THINK the problem is, but rather provide resources of different types of help they can seek professionally that may more helpful. 
There are a ton of people, communities who advocate for the awareness of this illness and mental illness in general. Please educate yourself if you’re uncertain of what mental illness is and how it affects a person. Don’t be ignorant. Don’t be judgemental because I can guarantee you, this is not my choice! No one wants to suffer emotionally and psychologically.

 

 

MM

My Interview with @BettysBattleGround

I had met Elizabeth Bricco (@bettysbattleground) through my blogging community on twitter.  Her website name intrigued me and I remember visiting her page and skimming through her posts. She is an advocate for mental illness. How she delivers content to educate and share other people’s experience with mental illness. She is a consistent and helpful soul with delivering raw content. Even in the midst of the chaos that linger in her own mind, she has the heart to share with her readers and the world about the importance of knowledge with mental illness. 

‘The hurt she shares, I found comfort in.’

She had tweeted that she is looking for anyone who wanted to share their experiences with mental illness, through an interview that she would share with her readers and followers.

I thought about the extent of me sharing my experience. A few weeks back when I shared that I am struggling with Postpartum Depression with family and friends, it was the scariest thing for me to do and my husband had to do the talking for me. But eventually, sharing it made me a little braver. It made me comfortable enough to share with my viewers through my post “28, Three Kids and Postpartum Depression”.

 

 

‘The Support that came Pouring in’

 

After posting about how I came to find out that I suffer from Postpartum Depression mixed with Anxiety and OCD, the amount of support I received from my blogging community and my readers was amazing. I realized how important it was that I shared it. Aside from the fear of sharing it, a huge part of me wanted the world to know how hard it was to battle with mental illness, alone. Because that’s what it is. No matter the amount of people who are by your side, this is a battle you face on your own, with your own mind. Your experience is extended to those you love the most, and it’s heart breaking.

 

 

What I have gathered from all the comments, I was left with is that..

..this is still an illness that not a lot of people care to educate themselves on, unless they themselves are dealing with it or someone they love. Most people are ignorant about it and thats what causes the stigma. People don’t care to know what it means to struggle with mental illness, and they view you as mentally weak and crazy. 

 

Please check out my interview with Elizabeth Bricco @ http://www.bettysbattleground.com/2017/04/17/parenting-mental-illness-maria/

So I shared 

Sharing my experience is important. Individuals who struggle with mental illness need support, encouragement, friendships, and understanding. They need to be able to access help and feel free to do so, without the fear of being judged. I have yet to access all avenues of help, except medication because well, I don’t have a lot of options financially. But Elizabeth surprised me with a YouCaring fundraiser to help with the cost (totally amazing of her). I thought she would just share my story, and this would be enough to help others. But what she does is she gives more, and that in its own tells you that no matter who you are, even with mental illness, it doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person who was mean mentally or emotionally. It is an illness that takes over you, yes. But it is an illness we did not choose or want. It is an illness that brings itself out from the depths of your soul, from the darkness you thought you’ve managed to store away.

 

Thank you

Sweet Elizabeth Bricco, thank you for allowing me to share my story. Thank you for your support, and help through this part of my life. I am grateful for opening a conversation with you and for your voice for advocating for such an important message. Thank you for allowing me to utilize your social platform to share and educate with others who may be going through postpartum depression or other mental illness. Thank you for providing comfort and being another helping force to help those struggling with mental illness! You have a kind heart. We’re together in this. 

 

Please visit http://www.bettysbattleground.com/2017/04/17/parenting-mental-illness-maria/ to read my interview with her and for the YouCaring fundraiser she’s set up for me on her page, to help. 

 

MM, out!

How My Postpartum Depression Affects My Son

 

This post is probably going to make you feel all sorts of things. It’s probably going to make you want to judge me on how cruel or mean I am as a mom. Maybe you’ll find it in your heart to understand how this is a struggle for me, something that breaks my heart on the daily, something I have felt so guilty and have cried an ocean about. But I’m going to share this with you, because I don’t think many people understand the extent or the vastness of Postpartum Depression and how it effects the actual person and the people she loves the most. 

 

My Son

 

My son is eight. When I first had him, I was twenty-one. I remember the day I went into labour, and feeling afraid. Apollo being my first child, I was afraid of how it was all going to happen. If I could do it. If I was prepared to give birth to a baby. If I was prepared to have a child. All the things you’re supposed to have thought about prior, came flooding in and all I could think about was, “WHY DIDN’T I READ THOSE BABY BOOKS?!” As if I was gonna find the drugs to ease the pain from labour, or get the doctor who needs to administer the epidural out of the operation room faster, because by the time I opted for epidural I was already exhausted from the contractions.

This isn’t a birth story, so lets fast forward to after he was finally sucked out of my hoo-ha to help me get him out, because I sure was not going to have a c-section. I made sure of that, I’m pretty sure I yelled that to the doctor! “Get this baby out of my vagina, however you need to, as long as it comes out from down there and not my stomach!”

He ended up having a fever after he came out, he didn’t even cry. Such a brave boy! I didn’t even know he was out, until my mother-in-law said, “Why are you still crying, he’s already over there!” I had felt so exhausted from it all, I couldn’t deal with how I felt about the guilt that my child ended up with a cone head because of the vacuums’ suction, or the fact that he has a fever now, because I ended up getting a fever towards the end of my delivery. How my weakness transferred to my son, and how he was going to spend the rest of his life having this bad trait from me.

Apollo Kai

“As Bright as The Sun and as Deep as The Ocean”

The focus of this post is to share with you how my postpartum depression experience has effected Apollo the most, in comparison to his sisters who are too young to understand or to allow the effects to consume them. It isn’t to say that it hasn’t effected anyone in my house less, but I feel like my postpartum depression has effected my relationship with Apollo the most, since it began before he had any siblings.

 

Apollo is the sweetest boy, he is kind, gentle-hearted, loving, fun, rambunctious, hyper, helpful, sensitive, and likes to keep his emotions to himself.

 

It has been super hard coping with postpartum depression, even with the medication the doctor has prescribed (It has yet to work, or not working at all), one in which I can only take when there is another adult to watch the kids because it makes me super sleepy and tired. Well I don’t ever get to use that one because I am never with another adult until around six in the evening or later. So during the day when my anxiety is high and unmanageable, I cannot take anything to help me take the edge off. We have no family and friends around to help because they are all three and a half hours away.

Before I acknowledged or even figured out something was wrong with me, I had spent the last few years feeling like I hated my son, because of the way I treated him. I was easy to anger, easy to yell, every little thing upset me. My OCD effected the way I mothered him, constantly on him for every little thing. “Pick-up your sweater!” “Stop jumping all over the place!” “Calm down!” And slowly it would make us drift.

 

“Do I not love him the same, anymore?”

 

Slowly our relationship struggled. I was always upset with him. He was always in trouble at school from not being able to socially align his personality (he’s medically assessed to be a gifted child) with the way other children are. I was always yelling at him for everything!

I wasn’t doing any better being the way I was with him. I could recall how I would cry and stand up for him when we were having trouble at school when he was in Kindergarten. I remember I would remind him how he wasn’t the problem and that the school was. Then that shifted a bit before Arty (my second child) was born.

 

I would cry every time I lost it with him. The guilt would over power me and I would drift into this hole, that even I can’t figure a way out of. I hated myself. I hated that I wasn’t the mom I used to be. I hated that the way I loved him changed. I hate that every little thing was so hard. I hated that I could no longer connect with my son.

“I hated that I was a terrible mother!”

 

I love him more than anything in this world! This, I know! This, I feel. But it feels like however Postpartum Depression is effecting me, it’s making my love for Apollo weak. Weak enough, that I am not the mom he used to adore! I am no longer the mom that would give him the benefit of the doubt first, who would never second-guess him, who never had an ounce of distrust! I stood up for him, no matter what! I cried for him, when he was sad, and he felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

 

NOW…
It feels like, he’s drifted from me. It feels like he doesn’t have to talk to me about anything at all because I won’t listen, or I’m always too busy, or I’m always upset. He no longer sits with me and cuddles me, because he feels like I’m so cold to him. He no longer hugs me with sincerity because he feels I’ve changed. He no longer gives me kisses, because kisses mean you have a connection.

Postpartum Depression is the worst thing I have ever experienced as a mother. It effects every bit of you. You cannot control it. You cannot just make it go away. AS MUCH, as you tell yourself to get yourself together and stop it, YOU CAN’T! It effects you emotionally and physically. It effects the people you love the most. It effects your decision making, it effects your mood, it effects your happiness, IT EFFECTS WHO YOU ARE! I don’t know how else to explain how Postpartum Depression has changed me. Or how much it has effected my family, especially my son. 

But, What I do know is this…
I will get through this. Postpartum Depression will not have me, forever. Postpartum Depression will not take me away from my son, no matter how much it tears me apart. Postpartum Depression will not break my relationship(s) to point, where I cannot get them back. I will fight with all of me, to get better and beat this thing! I will do whatever it takes to fix my relationship with my son, with so much love, that this thing cannot find a loop hole in. I will fight this! I will take my soul back!

 

I.LOVE.YOU. MORE THAN IT SEEMS, MORE THAN IT WEIGHS, MORE THAN MY LIFE.  I WILL GET US BACK!

 

 

 

MM, out!