This is not easy for me to write.
Sometime during the last couple of months I’ve sunk lower and lower. Into what, I don’t exactly know; I guess myself? The reason itself is lost on me, and I cannot pinpoint a specific moment that sent me spiraling into a world that I didn’t really know as my own.
I stopped running. I stopped working out in my home. I stopped answering phone calls, texts, emails, messages. Recently I went silent on Twitter and Facebook, simply because I felt like I had nothing to say.
In a lot of ways, I stopped caring in general.
I admit that our daughter would have toast for lunch because I just didn’t feel like making anything substantial for her. In turn, I would feeling an overwhelming and intense guilt over this that would consume me for the rest of the afternoon. Until of course, dinner, which was a joke. It would be something equally as disgraceful, except this time my husband would be subject to my neglect. I barely did anything around the house; folding laundry only when the pile on the washer and dryer became too embarrassing. Dishes weren’t touched until absolutely necessary, and my poor husband was making a lot of dinners he shouldn’t have had too. I felt completely worthless around the house, a realization that would cause breakdowns numerous times throughout the day. I walked around in a complete fog, overridden with a general sense of sadness that I couldn’t seem to shake. I know a lot of people can ‘fake it’ until they feel better, but I couldn’t even muster fake smile. Somehow I was still able to maintain a supply and keep my infant nourished; how I managed that I’ll never know.
Going to runs that our run group hosted was out of the question. Though my absence was either because of unruly children or my husband’s work schedule, I was secretly happy that I at least had excuses. Who needed a downer like me around anyway.
Sure, there were times of happiness, don’t get me wrong. Unfortunately, I then let myself get the best of me and before I knew it I was back in my slump. I switched my blog over to private, as I was convinced no one wanted to read my crap of a blog, and also because I couldn’t figure out how to delete it. I got rid of running clothes, sick of seeing them unused, and finally donated shoes I no longer needed. I even stated that I was no longer a runner, and though I was quick to dismiss my old hobby, I also didn’t find a new one. I didn’t care too. Furthering my guilt, I found myself also quick to anger. Granted, my temper is pretty quick anyway, but I was snapping at my daughter for putting her shoes on the wrong feet or for taking her ponytail out.
As quickly and unpredictable as my “this” started, I recently have finally started to see a light at the end of the tunnel, but only after a series of events I could not control. I met these events with resistance, initially not wanting anything to do with them. My daughter started preschool. I then was planning her birthday party. My parents also came into town [huge, huge, huge blessing]. Finally, I opened up to a close friend about how I was feeling, and saying all of this aloud felt overwhelming, in a good way, and it took everything in my power to not break down in front of her. Which leaves me at present day. Reflecting on the past week, the answer to me is clear.
Keep busy. Keep running.
These two things are crucial. While I have been told numerous times that carving time out of my day to do something for me is important, I can attest to it now. Being ‘me’ should absolutely be a priority, ranking right up there with feeding my kids and keeping the house maintained. Which, I’m happy to report, is back to normal. Our son will be four months old tomorrow, our daughter is turning three later this month. They deserve a happy mom. Not a shadow of a mother, moping around the house, unfazed by the chaos that she created.
Was/Is this post partum depression? I honestly do not know. Was I willing to go see a doctor? In my ‘sad’ moments, absolutely not. Looking back, I should have. If this series of events hadn’t have happened, I do not know if by now I would have come to terms with things. So why with the blog post? Two reasons, both equally important. Not only will this keep me accountable, but also because I know I’m not alone.
So here’s to being happy, or at least trying not to stumble on the path to it.