Post Partum Depression (posted in 2013)

So.


PPD is for real and harsh, and was taking over my life for the last few months.


Honestly, as educated as I think I am, the body and mind are always throwing me off my axis. I didn't think that I would be hit with PPD because I had a c-section, perhaps I was in denial.


I have struggled with anxiety and depression since I was 13. I have had more therapists, psychiatrists, counselors, DBT sessions,(despite NOT being BPD), hospitalizations, and been on more medications than I would like to admit. Sometimes treatment works, sometimes not. Sometimes I just need to do ceremony and I'm ok, sometimes I need western medicine intervention, sometimes just a hug.


I was back in therapy before I had the baby, before I was even pregnant. I was in therapy this last time because after my dad died and I got divorced, I slipped back into that dark space where I isolate and push others away. To the point where panic and anxiety set in. Finding myself pulling over in the middle of rush hour traffic because I can't focus on where I am going and my heart starts to race and the feeling of impending doom washes over me. It stays there with no intention of leaving, like a poppy seed stuck in between your teeth.


When I got pregnant, Dr. M said to me, "I think we need to start using the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale now, so we have a baseline". I looked it up. Then felt like I was 13 again, marking off boxes on "How I felt"...what if you can't explain how you feel? I just marked what fit closest.


After Kai was born, I began sobbing non-stop for weeks. No reason, no trigger, just all of the sudden I was uncontrollably crying and absolutely inconsolable. I would be feeding him, changing him, just laying in bed with him and the water works would begin. I felt like that was normal and possibly having had a baby caused all those new mommy hormones to trigger the shit I have not dealt with surrounding my mom dying. Then I had to go back to work. Yeah, not good timing. This continued at work, at my desk, in the bathroom, in the parking lot, in my car, and on and on. So Dr. M increased my anti-depressants, and put me on benzo's.


Things seemed to be improving slowly, then one day in a meeting, AT WORK, I had a panic attack. Worst one I have had in years. Couldn't breathe, sobbing, hands cramping up, and on the verge of disassociating. Some co-workers who I had confided in, saw me outside wandering around crying in a panic and sat me down. They started to talk to me, getting my meds out of my purse, calling my shrink, smudging me, caring for me. My shrink calls my husband to come get me and take me home and pick up a new prescription.


Rad.

I do try to live my life in a good native way, I'm not traditional nor was I raised as such, but I do what I can. Is this anxiety crap a chemical imbalance and a part of who I am?

When I am under too much stress, not eating right, not caring for myself, the cycle starts. It may take weeks or even months to catch up to me, but it eventually will. I can feel the build up, the tension, the fear, the shaking of my legs, picking of my nails, and the obsessive thoughts. I just do not know how to stop it once the cycle begins.


To be honest, when I was in my '20s I kind of enjoyed the build up. Almost like a weird adrenalin rush of sorts. I would think, hmmm, I wonder how bad it will be this time? Will I be able to manage it solo and un-medicated? Where will it happen? But those moments were few and far between. Most of the time I would try to just hide and ride it out.


I can't do that anymore. I'm a mom and wife, and friend.

Then that obnoxious voice in my head says, "You're fiiine. Stop your meds, they are poison". So here I am, week three into weaning myself off my meds.


Of course I feel fine right now....stable, strong, in control, supported. My husband is supportive of my choices and just keeps an extra close eye on my moods and checks in when things seem above or below my baseline. I am grateful for him every single fucking day and I know I say that a lot. 

So I'm just trying to breathe, and hope, and be present...and reach out when I need too.

*Update 

It's been a year since this post, and things are good.