I had post-natal depression after both my children.
The second time more severe than the first.
So maternal mental health is an important issue to me.
Even so, I thought long and hard about writing this blog.
In fact, I procrastinated all week because I didn’t write it for sympathy, I wrote it because I felt a strong compulsion to speak my truth.
It took me almost 10 years to get back to feeling like Debs again: someone I recognise for her strengths, confidence and love of life.
The real Debs, not the shell of the person that survived day to day for much of that time.
In getting back to me I’ve realised that, for much of this time, I was a prisoner of my own thoughts and had I known what I know now, it wouldn’t have appeared anywhere near as bleak.
- I thought that I had to sacrifice myself to put my family first at all times, no matter what.
- I thought that asking for help meant that I couldn’t cope and that I was weak
- I thought that because the one time I did ask for help and it was refused that I weak and not worthy
- I thought that losing my identity was just what women did when they had kids – because everybody else was now more important than me. After all, I’d learned this directly from my mother’s knee so I must be right.
- I thought that having kids meant people would assume I was less committed to my job, so I worked harder and harder, even when I was completely burnt out.
- I thought that taking time off work when my kids were ill, but my work responsibilities didn’t go away, meant that I had to do both jobs even if that meant sitting with my laptop until 3am.
- I thought that I had to constantly apologise to people for what I hadn’t done
- I thought that the midwives knew better than me when, after 8 months of breast-feeding my youngest and being so sleep-deprived I couldn’t function, they still told me that I should carry on because that was what was best for my child.
- I thought I wasn’t important.
- I thought that it was selfish to take time to myself, even for self-care
- I thought that I needed to do everything: all the driving to activities, all the events, sports matches and school events, because then at least I would feel like I’d done my best.
- I thought that at some point in the future I’d feel like my best was good enough.
- I thought that if I continued to sacrifice myself in this way that at least people wouldn’t be able to criticise me for not trying my hardest.
- I thought that the reason I found it difficult was because I was 38 when I became a mum, so that meant I’d just had a few more years to become selfish and self-absorbed than people who have their children when they’re younger
- I thought that by complaining about my husband as if he was some kind of incapable man-boy (which is nowhere near the truth) that somehow I’d feel better about myself (I didn’t)
- I thought that, had my mum been alive, she would be deeply shocked and critical of my choosing to work and be a mum
- I thought that I just had to keep saying yes to whatever anyone wanted from me, because ‘no’ would mean that I’d failed in some way.
- I thought that I had no choice, but to keep being stuck in the loop on the hamster wheel.
- I thought ALL the time and it took me deeper and deeper into unhappiness
And now I know that none of this was true.
I was a prisoner of my own thoughts and they did a great job of keeping me stuck for a very long time.
That’s not to say that the depression wasn’t real, it’s just that my thoughts about the situation made it worse.
Probably tenfold.
Maybe more.
When I look at the photos of that time, I just see someone who was scared, someone who didn’t know how to manage the transition in my life (who does?) and who thought she had no-one to turn to and ask for help.
If I could offer her advice knowing what I know now, I’d urge her to listen to her intuition and not her thoughts.
That intuition that knew, implicitly and without thinking about it, how to love, protect and cherish the most important two things that had ever happened to her.
That intuition that knew that, without self-love and self-care, she couldn’t be the best version of her for herself or her children.
That intuition that knew that there was another way to do it: a happier, easier and more fulfilling way.
It all changed when I decided to stop, do what I KNEW was right for me and to stop overthinking everything and it has opened the door to rediscovering me.
If this sounds like you, if this is how you feel then please reach out to those around you and ask for support.
And, when you’re ready to get back to the real you, click here to contact me and let’s talk about how I can help because, my wish for you is that it doesn’t take you as long as it took me to get back to who you truly are.