I’m suffering from Postpartum Depression.
It took me a long time before I could say that out loud. I’ve had some dark, bleak days lately. Most days it is all I can do to get out of bed and take care of our basic needs.
I’m not writing about this for sympathy. I’m not even writing about it to give an excuse for not blogging over the last few months. I’m saying it because I need to say it. I need to accept it and conquer it.
I’m in the process of getting help. Being able to admit to myself that I actually had PPD was the first step. And for that, I thank my friends who have shared their experiences with me and helped me see that it’s okay and I’ll be able to get through it. I also thank my husband who is truly a saint. No one sees the behind-the-scenes chaos that he calmly sorts out. He’s a good, understanding man who is supporting me through this.
All the classic signs and symptoms were there. I just thought I was destined to be a tired, bitchy mom. I didn’t see it and it was right in front of me. Of course, there is really more to it than that. I’m oversimplifying.
Bear with me. I thought my blog was the problem, but taking a break from it helped me see the truth. I think it will also help me get through this, but I’m just not ready to come back yet.
But I will be back.