Category Archives: #PPDChat

Just Talkin Tuesday 07.13.10: Surviving a Bad Day

Everyone has bad days. But when you’re depressed, a whole bunch of bad days get strung together. Then you start to heal. And then WHAM. A bad day pops up out of nowhere. It’s not quite relapse but it sucks nonetheless. Even those of us who are recovered still have sucky days. We may be recovered but we are far from perfect. Far far far from perfect.

I know typically this is a longer post but frankly, it’s been a rough day here and I’m about to fall asleep. I spent the better part of the morning at the pediatrician and lab with my 6 year old daughter. We’re now waiting to see if she develops a rash to determine a diagnosis. I’m praying the rash doesn’t show up and the symptoms are just an unlucky combination. Somehow I’ve managed to hold it together and I totally credit the hell I went through with Postpartum Depression for allowing me to make it through this day intact. Exhausted, but intact.

I looked forward to sitting down on the couch and just vegging out tonight, listening to some music, and hanging with the ladies over at #PPDChat on Twitter. I needed it tonight.

What are some things you do to help yourself get through a tough day? Have you learned your triggers yet? Are you able to cut it off before it gets going? (If you’re not, that’s okay – everyone is at different stages of recovery!) What gets you to calm down?

Let’s get to just talking ladies!

Just Talking Tuesday: Did you have Postpartum Depression support from your Mom?

Monday night at #PPDChat, one of the chatters shared with us how her mother helped her get the help she needed to begin recovery from Postpartum Depression.

I’ve heard from women who have had excellent support from their Mothers. I’ve also heard the exact opposite. Nightmarish stories from women who’s own Mothers told them to suck it up and get over themselves. Motherhood is hard. Get over yourself. Those stories always hit me right in the stomach and make me want to reach through the computer to have a word or two with the mothers of these women.

Postpartum Depression is so much more than facing a tough day as a Mother. It’s debilitating. It’s wanting desperately to love and hug your child while so not wanting to love and hug your child. It’s wanting to not be angry with your husband as you yell at him for not putting the cap back on the toothpaste or something equally as inane. It’s wanting to keep up with the housework but instead all the physical and mental strength you have barely allows you to get out of bed and survive the day. It’s wanting to believe no one else knows the horrible thoughts racing through your head as you try to talk yourself down out of the figurative tree you’ve now climbed all the way up. It’s believing you really are the worst parent in the world but deep down trying so hard to talk yourself into believing you are a good parent despite all the negativity swirling about your head. It’s wishing desperately for the return of hope, sanity, happiness, patience, and strength and the imminent flight of disillusionment, insanity, intense sadness, impatience, and physical weakness.

I’m ever thankful when a woman’s mom calls me or seeks me out for support and education about her daughter’s experience with Postpartum Mood Disorders.

My own mother was very supportive when I was struggling. I never hesitated to call her (sometimes several times a day – thanks for listening!) when I needed to vent. Granted, I probably shared more than I should have and probably still do sometimes. (I’m working on that!) My mother always emphasized the importance of keeping the communication lines open. She kept them open when I needed them most.

I want to hear what your experience was with support from your Mom during your Postpartum Mood Disorder Experience. Did she accept your diagnosis? Help you out around the house? Listen? Help you make sense of life when it just didn’t seem to make a lick of sense? Or did she judge you? Tell you to get over yourself and grow up? Criticize your treatment decisions? Not respect your boundaries as you healed? Or perhaps your mother wasn’t there – for whatever reason – how do you think that affected your experience?

Let’s get to just talking!