Desolation in immaculate public places {a mother’s journey thru PPD}

Posted on October 19, 2010 by elizabeth

…And I have seen the dust from institutions,
Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,
Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium,
Dropping a fine film on nails and delicate eyebrows,
Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces.
                        —Dolor, by Theodore Roethke

"You never pulled out of the PPD," the doctor says and writes a scrawly note for a prescription.

I still the swinging of my bare feet from the examining table and feel the aching emptiness of empty womb, empty breasts, empty emotion. The nothingness, the numbness that has become my constant companion.

Pharmaceuticals. My heart skips a beat. Proof that you have failed.

[NOTE: that thinking is wrong. It's a residual reaction from my years in fundamentalism. We didn't believe there was such a thing as PPD. I was taught that depression was evidence of self-absorption or backslidden spirituality. This was the first time I sought help for something I'd suffered after each of my pregnancies.]

The anguish gurgles up in my throat and I let out a half-strangled cry. The tears erupt down my cheeks. She hands me a tissue and then touches my knee.

"I'm telling you right now," she says. Her eyes are glimmering with…could it be? Tears? "Put the twins in full-time preschool. Get a job. Get out of the house. Otherwise, you won't get better. I don't want to put you on medication. But if taking a rest doesn't help, I will."

I stumble out of her office and into sunshine. I don't feel it.

My days are colorless stills.

I never knew depression could feel like illness, like deep, abiding exhaustion with no end in sight. Like life tasting of pasty sawdust, a sickness I wanted to spit out. But it was in me, over me, all through me.

I carry my depression like a millstone around my neck.

I fill the prescription and I tuck it into my medicine cabinet. Every day I open it up and stare at the little bottle.

I pop the protective seal and weigh the pill in my hand.

My therapist calms me. "If you couldn't see properly," she asks, "would you go get glasses?"

"Yes."

"Your brain is not seeing properly. The medication is like a pair of glasses. It will help."

Still, I wait.

I want to exhaust every other option. I start exercising regularly, eating right and I do the hardest thing I've ever done: place the twins in full-time preschool.

For the first time in 11 years, I'm able to do something other than manage children 24/7. 

Like take a nap! And read poetry. I personally think poetry is medicine.

O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress;
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless. 
–Song by WH Auden 

 

 ***************three months later***********

I've finally pulled out of the darkness. I'm consistently stable every day. As with all my children, by the time they are 3 years old, I start feeling back to normal.

Yes, it takes me THREE YEARS to recover from childbirth.

Sleep, rest, exercise and the twins in full-time preschool have all worked together to bring me back to myself. The deep shadow has eased back and I'm feeling the sunshine again.

Here's how I know: I don't have to work at feeling positive. I wake up and I'm OK. I have energy. I look forward to what the day will bring. I don't feel like I'm dying anymore.

I'm cooking again. I laugh everyday. 

I tend my family and I enjoy them.

I'm hopeful.

But….

I have known the inexorable sadness 

and oh, God. I never, never want to know it again.

——————————————————————-

disclaimer: If I hadn't improved by a certain date, I was committed to taking the medication. I improved without medication–thanks in large part to full-time preschool and for the first time in 11 years, getting rest. HOWEVER, this is only my experience and should NOT be taken as advice for anyone else. There is nothing shameful about needing help; ie. medication. There may come a time when I need more help than what is working right now. This is because chemical imbalances in the brain are real. My PPD was relieved by rest, physical help and proper nutrition. This is not the same for everyone. Please know this. There is no judgment here.  

This comment box is a safe place for you to share your experience with PPD and/or depression, chronic anxiety, ADD, etc. Anonymous comments welcome.

Comment moderation is on and all nasty comments will be summarily deleted. 

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  • Kelly

    My husband and I went to a birthday party for one of our friends yesterday, and there was a large group of people we didn’t know around the table. Because I have celiac disease, I am “that girl” at restaurants who has to ask a million questions about the food. After I ordered, a girl across the table asked how long I’d had celiac disease and had I thought about going to deliverance to get rid of it. She then proceeded to tell me that celiac and other autoimmune and intestinal diseases are caused by spirits of fear and self-hatred…so if I was delivered from those then my celiac disease would disappear. My response? I stretched my hand across the table and said “I’m Kelly, nice to meet you.” I honestly wanted to say “who the hell do you think you are?” :)

    My parents put me on antidepressants when I was 11 years old. It was Prozac and they called it my “happy pill”. I took it until I was 22 years old. It has been a tough road filled with incredibly “spiritual” people who were convinced that this is all an attack from the devil and that if I just prayed harder and rebuked more, it would go away. What I ended up with was tons of guilt and shame.

    Today I pray and love God because He isn’t anything like what those people told me He was.

  • Mark

    Your disclaimer said what I wanted to say. I needed the help the medication brought. I had all the feelings and tried all the tries but in the end they weren’t enough. The medications and the therapy and the support brought me out of the dark, heavy, soul-draining devastation that is depression. I wish I didn’t have it, I wish I didn’t need medication for hypertension too, and diabetes. But I do. And of all, the antidepressants most profoundly saved my life. Really. Never ever believe you are somehow at fault for being depressed. Been there, done that. We are all God’s beloved children and He sent wisdom and persistence and knowledge to researchers to find miracles for us, His precious ones. So every day, when I take my meds, I thank God for His grace for me and my brothers and sisters.

  • Shannon

    Wow. What a powerful, honest post. Thank you.
    I struggle with chronic anxiety and have taken medication for it. Last year I was also diagnosed/treated for thyroid cancer. You can imagine how that affected my anxiety!
    Now I’m on a bumpy road to getting back to stability, and I’m trying without increasing my currently low-dosage of anti-depressant.
    One of the BEST helps for me has been sharing everything with my husband. Previously I kept it bottled inside and tried to “buck up”. Doesn’t work. Period.
    Thanks for giving an honest, comfy place to talk.

  • http://www.beeingblessed.blogspot.com J

    Through out my life… I can remember sadness being my ever-constant shadow. At the age of four or five… I remember hiding in the laundry cabinet for hours at a time…

    Junior high and high school were brutal. I was a perfectionist. Straight A’s… the right clothes…

    I attended a Southern Baptist church… so.. that meant Youth Group, Summer Camp and G.A.’s… I was perfect, unspoiled, unbesmirched and demure young girl of 18 offered up to an overbearing young 21 year old husband. (Son of a minister)

    As the years went by… the depression deepened… although I never named it. I simply prayed for a “right spirit” and the “joy of the Lord.”

    Following a harrowing divorce and finding myself a single parent to two little boys… while working (yeah! out of the house!) for an internist… He named it.

    Three weeks after beginning medication I felt “normal”. At least what I think normal must feel like.

    I take my medication for depression, like others use a cane, wear glasses or treat their diabetes.

    I’m a better person, mother and witness with it.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/steaners99 Steaners99

    thanks liz for sharing your darkest moments with us! I definitely know what you are talking about! :( I think I mostly feel guilt when trying to get rest or exercise…And you are so right about it taking 3 years! I feel guilt because I work all day and I feel like I am wasting my time instead of being with my children as they grow up. I never get a “me” break and depression has kind of become a norm for me. Thanks for sharing and being open about how you put yourself first to get to a point of happiness :)

  • http://www.alittlebarefoot.wordpress.com Jen

    I’ve suffered, though not to the extent that you have, nor to the extent that so many women have. And for that, I’m grateful. But I know how it feels to think, in those desperate moments, that it will never get better. The crushing guilt that comes from honestly believing that you’re failing at the only thing that really matters. The desperation broght on by sheer and unmitigated exhaustion. Kudos to you for getting through it. Again. Kudos to you for saying it out loud so that other women can know they’re not alone, when they feel. So. Alone.

  • Sandy

    I, too, took at least three years to recover from childbirth. My two children are 2.5 years apart and it took until the youngest was 3 for me to recognize my slogging daily existence as PPD. I did take medication, and I’ve taken it twice since (over almost 20 years) when I recognized the need. I’ve also recovered from a depression or two in between without meds. Neither way is superior to the other. It all depends on other circumstances whether I’m able to devote enough resources to the physical healing or whether I need the boost of meds.

    Whenever anyone has questioned me about whether depression is a physical (chemical) or spiritual battle, I look them in the eye and ask, “have you ever felt like every step you took each day was taken wearing hip-high rubber boots sloshing through muck?” If they don’t know what I’m talking about, they don’t know depression and IMHO, their opinion about it doesn’t mean much to me. If I see the immediate recognition of the symptoms in their eyes, then we can discuss. Just sayin…:)

    So glad you are feeling better. Thank you for sharing your journey through this and back.

  • http://www.heathershodgepodge.blogspot.com Heather’s Hodgepodge

    I had PPD after my son was born. I was devastated about what I felt. How could I have wanted a child so desperately for so long, and then feel what I felt? My husband worked nights the first 6 months of my son’s life, and I would hold my son as he screamed through colic, praying that God would keep me from hurting my baby. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t stop thinking about mothers who shook their babies, threw their babies – or worse. For the first time, I understood the incredible darkness that those mothers must have experienced to have done such things. When things got really bad, I would lay my son in his crib and sit in my car and sob.
    I didn’t feel like I could tell anyone what I was feeling: not my husband, who was stressed over working nights at his new job; not my mom, who told me that “Christians don’t get depressed,” and not my friends, who had prayed with me for years that I would be able to carry a child to term. How could I explain the uncontrolled crying fits, the terror I had at leaving the house with my son, the sheer ineptitude I felt at being a mother? Whenever I wasn’t praying to God to keep me from hurting my son, I was praying that God would keep my son from being damaged from having me for a mother.
    Things slowly improved after the first six months. I was finally able to leave the house with my son and not feel overwhelmed. I stopped crying uncontrollably. By the time my son was a year, I felt that while I wasn’t the best mother, I certainly wasn’t the worst mother ever. It took a year, but I finally was able to enjoy my son.
    Looking back, I wish I could smack myself. I missed the joy of my son’s first year. If God ever does bless us with another child, I won’t hesitate to seek help if I need it, critics be _______.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    Thank you for sharing with us, Mark. It’s good for us to know that men struggle with depression, too. And I’m so proud of you for being brave enough to take the medication. You’re right, we’re all God’s beloved children and He has grace for all of us.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    Oh, Shannon! You’ve really been through it! I applaud you for not giving up and for continuing onward. You inspire.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    I cannot thank you enough for sharing this. Really. Thank you.

    Sometimes the hardest thing is naming the shadow.

    With love,
    EE

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    You know, it was sorta a matter of life or death. It was like: “Take care of yourself or you won’t be OK.” That motivated me. I think where we came from, our default is to NEVER take care of ourselves. That is so dangerous. You are a lovely, compassionate, beautiful woman Christina! You have all my support and love. xo.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    Ugh, yes! That feeling of “it will never get better!” Oh man. THat is the WORST.

    And I’ll say it again and again.

    You are not ALONE.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/steaners99 Steaners99

    Thanks!!! :) I totally understand where you are coming from! I was just getting back to "myself" and putting myself 1st before I got preggo with Dre, then it all went downhill.  I decided I cant do this anymore, so now I am trying to slowly do more things for myself, but not enough of course.  I am sooooo thankful for my parents who help out with the kids soooo much! I am afraid where I would be without them! Thanks again for your honestly and care :)

  • http://www.bigmama247.com Alise

    Thank you so much for sharing. Everyone’s experience is so different. Heck, I’m going through a depression right now. Not quite so awful as it’s been in the past, but not just “sad.”

    The worst part of depression for me was/is the crushing feeling of loneliness. I may not actually BE lonely, but that FEELING is just brutal. I hate that so much. That we in the Church feel like we need to fix people can just intensify that feeling so much. It’s hard to feel like you’re a part of a group if you’re constantly told (even indirectly) that the way you feel isn’t really God honoring (or something like that).

    I’m actually about to start a series on my blog where people can share their stories. If anyone wants to be a part of that, feel free to shoot me a message. We’re NOT alone, and it’s through our shared stories that we can figure that out. alise@bigmama247.com

  • http://fromthepulpitofmylife.blogspot.com/ Ruth Ann

    I just wanted to say I am so happy for your recovery! Enjoy the JOY! :-)

    As a young person, long before marriage and children, I, too suffered from depression. There were no modern medications to help then. I did, however, have support from others, which helped.

    It took me five years to reach a place where I could say, “It’s gone.” Except for infrequent mild bouts, I’ve been okay since. I think, during the five years of suffering I learned some coping skills and my limits. This has helped keep me stable—I believe.

  • http://www.aspergersmom.wordpress.com Rachel

    I had PDD with every pregnancy. It was the worst with my second child. It almost swallowed me – but there was a lot more going on in my life that was hard. None of us live in a vacuum. Having PDD happens and the other things going on in life can make it easier or harder which is why it can be hard to isolate and say, this is because of a chemical reaction in my body, not a personal flaw.

    I have struggled with occasional depression. I can usually handle it without medication. My sister has bipolar disorder. She can not handle it without medication.

    The thing that is ironic is if someone had a kidney infection, we would think that they were a little wacky not to get on medication. Even though there are a lot of homeopathic things they could do to help their body heal, few of us would be asking them if they had tried all those before taking the medication. Many of of wouldn’t even think about trying the non-medication assistance. Instead, we would rely almost 100% on the medication. However, when it comes to mental health many of us ask about trying all the non-medical intervention before we try the medicine.

    I am the kind of person who will try both no matter what the illness. I am not a huge fan of taking a pill. However, I also think a person who has a kidney infection and doesn’t use the non-medical intervention along with the medicine is crazy and the person with depression who absolutely refuses for any reason to take a pill is equally as crazy.

    We all have to know this body we have been given – they are not all the same – and take care of it the way it/we needs.

    I am so glad you looked for help. I am so glad you write about it. GOOD FOR YOU!

  • http://www.beeingblessed.blogspot.com J

    Kelly,

    I too experienced “well intentioned” believers feeding me the hidden sin guilt trip, and questioning my faith. I’m so sorry you went through that too.

    But I really wanted to comment that your last sentence RESONATES with me. I believe I will commit that sentiment and understanding to heart. I serve a God of mercy… not condemnation. God bless you!

  • Kara

    Hi Elisabeth,
    I have three kids and my husband wants more… and so do I. :) The pregnancy and having four kids are not what scare me, it’s the hormones afterward for a year. I can not believe you go through that for 3 years!!! I want more kids but I’m scared to be insane again. How did you decide to have kids knowing that was what could happen? I know they are worth it!! But I’m still scared.
    Thanks for your thoughts,
    Kara

  • A

    Sigh…

    I want someone to rest a hand on my knee and tell me that it’s okay to take a rest, to heal, to not try to do it all and do it perfectly. I want necessary life to slow down enough that I could rest and heal. I want to wake up and look forward to the day again, instead of dreading the mornings.

    I have a feeling people are telling me these things, but my ears are too stopped up by the thick fog to hear them.

    But I see hope in your story, beloved EE, and that is a very good thing.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    Hi Kara: although I experienced the PPD after each pregnancy, it wasn’t until after I had the twins that I went and sought actual help. Had I known and recognized the symptoms of PPD before my 4th pregnancy, I might have thought twice about getting pregnant again. However, it IS possible to go through it again–so long as you have a good, solid support system in place and are committed to getting help if the same thing happens again. But please remember this is just my own personal experience. I am not a doctor and not in any way able to give true advice. I would highly recommend seeking professional assistance. I wish I had done that sooner!
    xo
    EE

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    I am happy I have YOU in my life! You mean so much to me. xo.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    It is OK to take a rest and heal. It really, really is. In fact, it’s necessary. So many health problems arise from not taking good care of ourselves.

    I remember dreading each new day.

    There is hope.

    And we are here for you.
    ((hugs))
    EE

  • http://www.asweetdoseoftruth.blogspot.com jo

    Both of my pregnancies revived the monsters I had already been trying to keep dormant. My OCD, my panic attacks, my agoraphobia…I finally decided on Lexapro six weeks after my youngest son was born. That was in 2003 and I’m still on the meds. The booze I sought for comfort didn’t work, nor did holing myself up in my home and shunning friends and family. It is our responsibility to use what we know to help others on a similar path and your post has done that today.

    Thank you.

  • http://testingstuf.wordpress.com Kim

    I’ve never suffered from PPD, but while pregnant with my second child I had reached the very depths of depression. My life was a black void that there seemed to be no escape from. I was so scared of what would happen when I actually had them. I had to actually put my husband and a close friend on notice to watch me as I was scared I would hurt him.

    Oddly enough, my depression cleared as soon as I had him. As a matter of fact I had about 6 months of feeling like I was June Cleaver (supermom). I thank God for protecting me and my baby during that time.

    Thank you for sharing your story. More people need to understand it’s not a dirty secret, and there is nothing to be ashamed of.

  • KatR

    I fell into depression while in my abusive church. Leadership wasn’t against medication (for the most part), because SO many women in the church, (and not just my local church) suffered from depression that if they didn’t get us on meds, the whole church would have fallen apart.

    So they pushed the “its just a chemical issue” and didn’t have us look at any other causes. Like emotional abuse. Or exhaustion.

    Still, I’m grateful for the medication, because I would have hurt myself without it, I know that for sure.

    I haven’t been on antidepressants for years and years, not since I left the church. Even with the pain I’ve felt since, nothing has come close to what that depression felt like.

  • http://theheirtoblair.com Blair@HeirtoBlair

    Currently going through it.

    Clawing my way through it, if you will. With medication & one kick-ass psychiatrist.

    oh, & that week-long stint in the hospital where the PPD literally made me psychotic.

    It is hard. It is no fun. But I thank you for shedding light on a very real, very painful, soul-wrenching disease that robs mothers every single day. We deserve more & we deserve better.

  • http://www.joyinthisjourney.com Joy

    I’m so glad to read that you are enjoying life again, have energy again, are renewed again.

    My depression mushroomed through eight years of caring for a very dependent special-needs child, three other pregnancies, and then a year of grieving the death of that child with so many needs. In retrospect (gotta love hindsight), I needed help before she passed away. But I was drowning, thrashing desperately to get that next mouthful of air, and had no spare second or brain cell to stop and recognize and address the depression. After a year of grieving and sliding deeper and deeper, I finally realized I couldn’t get better without help. I needed a boost out of the pit.

    What threw me is that each day wasn’t exactly the same. I’d have a good day and think, “Oh good! I’m getting better!” And then it would get bad again. The lack of consistency kept me away from help for too long.

    I started counseling and everything I could find that wasn’t a prescription. For me, it didn’t work. I started anti-depressants in late winter of this year. And then I took three months off from work, rested, and really began healing.

    Now, I actually wonder if it would be possible to wean off the meds. I’ll be honest. I’m afraid to do it right now — the nights are still getting longer and longer, the temps colder, and the last two winters were hell. Maybe in the spring…

  • http://www.ayoungmomsmusings.blogspot.com Young Mom

    “You are not alone!” Powerful words, and so true. I felt very alone, and I “knew” that the depression was all my fault. If I was disciplines and self-controlled enough and happy in the Lord I would get better. I’m so glad I was wrong. And I’m so glad I married a man who wasn’t afraid of my depression and has supported me through all stages of it.

  • http://www.joyinthisjourney.com Joy

    *This is my hand on your knee.*

    You are allowed to stop. You are allowed to slow life down and take a rest.

    I did it. I took a three-month leave of absence from my job, took the kids out of most extra-curriculars, and just stopped.

    *hug*

  • anonymous

    Thank you for sharing honestly about this, Elizabeth. It was a huge struggle for me to start anti-depressants ten months after I got married – it was supposed to be the happiest time of my life! I was overwhelmed by so many changes and new things. I couldn’t handle it all. Within 1-2 weeks of starting the meds, I felt like myself again. It was an incredible feeling, REMEMBERING what I used to feel like all the time. I wish no one had to deal with the shame of taking an anti-depressant.

  • http://www.coffeestainedclarity.com Bethany

    For me, what needed to happen was going off medication… namely my birth control pills. It just took me two years to figure that out through the deep, dark exhaustion that you described so well. I did go to the doctor, twice, but I was too embarrassed to insist that I really wasn’t ok, that I needed help. It felt like such a shameful thing to not be able to get my own brain under control. Wasn’t I supposed to be bringing every thought captive?
    I’m glad you wrote about this. Maybe if I had known that long-lasting PPD was real and something to be cured rather than endured in secret, I wouldn’t have lost those two years of my life.

  • LizzyZ

    Thank you for being willing to write about this stuff. But I have to be honest here. I’ve been consistently stable on Zoloft for 5 months now but reading your story still makes me envious. I must be missing something important because even though most of the time I can say “Whoa! This is what you’re supposed to feel like?” reading things like the post above make me cry with envy and pain. I guess I’m not as healed as I hoped to be.

  • http://agibsongirl.tumblr.com Emily

    This was a really beautiful post, Elizabeth. Especially since so many people don’t see PPD, or *any* sort of depression/anxiety disorder, as a real thing, like needing glasses, etc.
    But really, medication/therapy can be the best thing you can do for yourself. I’ve been on anti-anxiety meds since I was a teenager, and even though it’s a low dose, without it, life is not happy. At all. Thanks for shedding more light on this. It is NOT something we should be ashamed to discuss, or confront openly and honestly.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    Thank you for your honesty. When I read other people’s journey through depression and how they recovered, I was so upset and envious, too. I just wanted to be better so badly!! I just wanted it to go away! Please know that I am not claiming I’m cured. I don’t know that. I could fall back into the pit and IF or WHEN that happens, I will probably get medication. I’m so glad you’re getting help. You have no idea HOW BRAVE that is! So many people don’t seek help. Thank you for doing the right thing and the best thing for yourself and your loved ones! :)

  • Mark

    From my (male) my experience. I have taken antidepressants on and off for 22 years. Currently on them. Periods of up to 5 years off. Let your doctor guide you. You can wean off and that can be important especially for a woman who might be ready to have a baby. Also, remember that, unlike an infection that you treat for 2 weeks, being prone to depression means there is a chemical imbalance in the brain that we were born with that can get worse at times. This means you might need meds again in the future for a couple of years. You know how bad it feels so if life starts to slip back down that hole, getting back on the meds (for me) can make all the difference. For me, I stay out of that black, lethal hole. Prayers for you and all of us who suffer. God loves us so much!

  • Cristi

    I’m so glad you wrote about this. Sometimes I feel so envious of friends having babies and being back to normal within weeks. My youngest is 21 months and I’m getting close to normal-for-me (which is still probably more depressed then the average person). Right now I can’t imagine having another child and another 2-3 years of this fog. I haven’t actually been out of the fog for more than 4 years because of the way my kids are spaced. I’m well enough now that I feel like I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thank you for letting people like me know that we’re not alone.

  • Mark

    EE,

    You are exactly right! SO BRAVE! The sheer bravery it takes a person with depression or anxiety or OCD to simply get on with life is far beyond anything anyone without these diseases can understand. Platinum Medals of Honor. Seeking to be treated properly, and it may take some time to get the right mix of treatments, means you have taken control of your life and that you can face whatever comes. Moreover, when you feel better, you will be there to “put your hand on someone’s knee”, to listen and KNOW, to support and help another bear a burden. To be a most complete human person, aring and compassionate.

  • http://www.emaconly.blogspot.com/ Emily M.

    I’m suffering from untreated, unacknowledged (with the exception of 3ish people)depression, and have been since the day that I got home from Honduras. Saying something and/or seeking treatment feels like failing as a missionary.

    *sigh*
    That felt good to say.

  • anonymous

    I remember I would only feel secure enough to fall asleep at night with the covers pulled over my head and my body curled into a fetal position. I remember when my bones started to protrude, my hair turned dull and broken. I went days without a shower, cried so often that my cheeks wouldn’t always register the presence of tears,…numb. When I would see them together, my insides would wretch, and I’d have to run to the nearest toilet to dispense of what was left of me inside this shell. My tendencies toward anxiety and depression were exacerbated by my circumstances, watching the person I was in love with fall in love with someone else, disposing of me and all of me in the process.
    That was one year ago. I’m so much better now, but still have so far to go…

  • http://www.beeingblessed.blogspot.com J

    I should also add, like others: I also benefitted greatly from counseling.

    I knew that once again, I’d hit bottom when I wasn’t showering (days…maybe a week), slept too much (even missing work), the house was a health hazard (NO exaggeration) and my finances were in a shambles. Worse? I knew no way to correct it, and no desire or energy to do so even if I did. So, in addition to the depression: anxiety.

    What brought this horrible depression season? Trying to go without meds. I listened to the well meaning people in my life and church that encouraged prayer,fasting, exercise and “just getting on with it”. Relapses are more terrifying each time for me.

    When you begin to lose hours staring at a wall… it is scary. When you don’t realize that you are crying until someone tells you… it is scary.

    I have prayed for each poster today. Our God hears. And He is faithful to lead you to the solution YOU need to live your life free from the monster.

  • http://thechurchfanatic.blogspot.com LLMom

    After years of depression and anxiety (which I thought were all because I lacked something spiritually), I finally tried medication. I only needed it for 6 months, just to get my body use to making enough seratonin again. Boy, what a relief. It was so nice to sit and not have my mind racing about things and be in tears over every little thing. I look back on that time with sadness because my children could have had a much happier mommy. Hopefully, they have come through it all right as well.

  • Mark

    You are NOT a failure. You are God’s precious daughter. He wants the best for you and has placed all sorts of healing from skilled medical people within reach of you. You have the prayers of everyone on this list, for starters and besides, God knows your needs before you do. All that remains is for you to reach out a hand for help and tell the voice in your head that blames you as a failure that God is YOUR FATHER and He has great plans for you, including getting better. Using all the means God has provided.

  • http://www.laundryandlullabiesblogspot.com Emily

    I started taking medication for depression/anxiety six months ago. It is like a miracle. I didn’t even know that it was possible to feel like this – I’m happy a majority of the time now. My kids occasionally drive me nuts but they don’t reduce me to yelling and tears. It isn’t a chore to drag myself out of bed in the morning. EE, I’m glad for you that you didn’t need medication (it’s expensive!) but I appreciate your disclaimer because for some of us, this is the only way we’ll EVER experience “normal”. I’m so happy to finally be happy.

  • KatR

    Emily, having depression has nothing to do with your success as a missionary. I hope you’ll be kind to yourself and consider getting treated.

  • Nina

    Nothing heals like *time*, I agree with you, Elizabeth, although medicine is an aid, if not a necessity for some in breaching the distance between brain chemicals and balancing out those neurotransmitters! My youngest is just 2 1/2. This is my longest space, my longest time without being pregnant or nursing— (actually I think, sadly, the nursing hormones make me worse), and it is without a doubt, like I am a different person. My mother commented on it as I was leaving after visiting her for the first time in a long while (out of town), “Not being pregnant serves you well….”.

    It is sad. I felt kind of apologetic and shrugged sheepishly. Of course, she has begged me to have my tubes tied since number two, with all of my risk factors and two major illnesses “in our genes”…..and I have tried so hard to persevere and be quiet and strong about my choice to live out my Faith, but she is still my mother, and she knows me…..she knows how much I have suffered and how harrowing things have been for all of us.

    Look, I’ve had PPD after EVERY SINGLE PREGNANCY in various forms. It has tended to get worse, and I have nine children, and two farther along miscarriages. Someone mentioned fearing pregnancy, but really fearing the months afterwards. I have not only had terribly difficult pregnancies, but the dread of what is to come, when you are supposed to have the joy of that new baby!….it is truly demoralizing and debilitating. After number 8, my family members were really worried about me. Since my first child’s CF diagnosis I have had chronic insomnia. And there are always so many other things going on in our very complicated, demanding lives….it is an adventure, to say the least!

    This is NOT an easy situation and we mustn’t gloss over it. We have innocents dependent upon us, and our very own lives to preserve and love, as Jesus commanded. And we oughtn’t to just *survive*….but THRIVE. God wants that abundant joy for us, which is so shocking to me, I have a hard time believing it as I write! ;) It is okay to want to feel well. Yes, we do not have to be ashamed of taking care of ourselves and doing what we have to do to function. Thank you for your courage in frequently writing about this/acknowledging your struggles, and refusing to the allow the very real crosses and pressures of motherhood to be underplayed or discounted in the Christian world.

  • http://faithandfood.morizot.net/ Scott Morizot

    I have sleep apnea and celiac. And one of the symptoms of both of those is depression — for different reasons. With sleep apnea, you aren’t getting the right sort of sleep to restore your brain and the deficit builds up and up. With latter stage celiac, you aren’t absorbing enough of the right things to maintain proper serotonin levels (and other autoimmune neurological effects that aren’t fully understood).

    Looking back, with that double whammy it’s not surprising I fell into deep depression. I don’t have any of the adverse attitudes toward medication you mention from your fundamentalist background. After all, my Dad is a biologist, biochemist, and geneticist and my mother has multiple masters in psychology and therapy. I had a different sort of problem. I would call myself strong-willed. Others might use other words. I’ve also had an … interesting life — in the sense of the Chinese curse.

    The time came when I realized I was clinically depressed. But it came at a juncture when life was actually pretty good — especially compared to everything I had been through in the past. It made no sense to be depressed right then, and I thought I could somehow will myself out of it. I went on like that for some months before finally admitting that I was getting more rather than less suicidal.

    So I started antidepressants, but at first they had no effect. Looking back, I realize that was probably because I wasn’t really absorbing them well. Celiac, remember. When I finally got to a dosage level that had some impact, I also began having some bizarre side effects.

    Some months later, I was diagnosed with sleep apnea and the vpap machine helped enough that I was able to taper off the medication — which was a huge relief. But I still didn’t feel right. Things were manageable, if blah.

    It was only after being diagnosed with celiac and spending months on a gluten free diet that I returned to something like normal. And it’s been a huge relief. Yes, clinical depression of all sorts is serious business. Keep plugging away day by day until you can get sorted out. And don’t think it’s something you can manage without help. You can’t. It doesn’t matter how strong you are.

  • Wendy

    I certainly understand. I’ve had chronic depression and anxiety for most of my life, though I didn’t realize the anxiety component until recently.

    Pregnancy wasn’t that bad for me, but afterward was an abyss. Since I’d had depression, I thought I’d be prepared for PPD, but it was such a different flavor that I couldn’t speak. My husband was suddenly absent due to his work, and our son had health problems and screamed when he wasn’t sleeping. I had a few psychotic episodes, and I wished I could be locked up.

    He was born six years ago, and I’ve only been alive again for about the past year.

    When people who really want to know ask if we’re having more children, I tell them it’s more important for our son to have a mother than to have a sibling. I honestly don’t think I would make it through a subsequent postpartum time.

    I try to keep an eye on friends of mine who have new babies to see that they’re doing all right. Knowing you’re not alone and that there are OPTIONS FOR HELP are very important support tools I did not have.

  • http://www.thewinedarksea.com/weblog.php MelanieB

    I struggled with depression my senior year of college. I also felt like taking the medication was somehow giving in– this despite the fact that in my family there was no stigma attached to needing help for mental illness, in fact my dad had a masters degree in psychology and was a rehabilitational therapist. But I’m convinced that the medication was the only way I was able to graduate. I got off it as soon as I could though because for me it acted as an appetite suppressant, which made the cure almost as bad as the disease. Depression itself didn’t rob me of the joy of eating nearly as much as the anti-depressants– go figure!

    Still, if I were to get PPD or any form of depression again, I’d try to find a different anti-depressant that didn’t have those side effects or I’d take it and deal with the loss of appetite. Better than wandering in the darkness.

    Elizabeth, thank you for sharing your story. I am sure it will help many people.

  • Caryl

    I had PPD after my daughter was born and breastfeeding turned into a nightmare. There was the sleep deprivation, the limited to no support and a baby who screamed all the time. Blah. I was getting ready to go back to work when I realized there was absolutely no way that was going to work out in my favor. I contacted my physician and she took me off work for another 5 months. It was the best thing ever. I didn’t take medication, but asked to be put back on birth control because I felt that my issue was hormone related. My doctor agreed and put me back on b/c. I felt almost immediate relief in the sense that a lot of my issues were more subdued. However, they didn’t all go away. Recently, I asked my doc to increase my dosage, which she did. Plus I added exercising and getting more sleep to my routine and I found that it helped. It’s been good for the past 6 weeks or so. Having PPD was the scariest thing, more so because of my line of work, particularly since a lot of my coworkers are therapists and no one picked up on my PPD. My issues were massive anger management problems, yelling and screaming. The feelings were overwhelming and I felt like I couldn’t be alone with my daughter because of the fear of what I thought might happen. I was so whacked out my husband was desperate to not be home and deal with the issues we were having. I also attended individual counseling (I have a history of situational depression and anxiety), as well as group therapy. It was great!

    18 months have passed since our daughter was born, and the light is getting brighter at the end of the tunnel. I can’t believe how many women have PPD, when I see data stating it is a low number. I have met so many women with PPD that it can’t be possible the percentages are so low.

    All I know is that we, as women, need to keep talking about what is going on and what is happening to our bodies and minds before, during, and after delivery. We need to be there for each other and be aware of what the other person is going through.

    Caryl

  • http://lucy-in-disguise.blogger.com Lucy

    EE, The kinship I find in reading your blog has meant so much to me. Thank you for writing so honestly about mental health, and the way that religiously-induced guilt affects whether people like you and I get help for it. I spent the first 26 years of my life in fundamental baptist churches, and then 2-1/2 years ago, I was diagnosed with mental illness on the schizophrenic spectrum. All of the sudden, “You just need to pray” stopped being good advice. Several times, the blackness of depression has almost taken my life, but I take my meds, follow my therapy goals, and work hard to keep from becoming another statistic. By the way, engaging in blogs like yours is one of my therapy goals, so I just wanted to say–thanks for helping me meet my goals!

  • Jack

    Dear soul, being a man I cann’t have suffered from PPD, though I know it’s real. Considering the changes of pregnancy and then motherhood, how could it NOT be real?

    However, in my case, I have suffered from childhood with clinical depression (though we didn’t know to call it that back in the 50′s). It’s something I struggled with for years–and trust me, lack of faith in Jesus had NOTHING to do with it.

    Suffice it to say that I take an antidepressant daily, and every time I thank God for the provision He has made for me.

    Clinical depression is a PHYSICAL disease. It is a CHEMICAL imbalance and no bigger moral failure than are diabetes, gout, or asthma (all of which I also have).

    For all of you who read this, there IS help. There IS Balm in Gilead (even if we call it Prozac, Celexa, or Wellbutrin today). Remember, God uses the foolish things of this world (like medicine) to confound the wise (especially super-spiritual pop-evangelicals).

  • Jack

    Dear Mark,

    I, too, have all these physical diseases (and remember that clinical depression is likewise a physical disease).

    I’m glad you’re doing better.

    It also stands to reason that if you get your physical health taken care of, your mental and emotional health improves. I’ve learned the hard way that diabetes and depression adversely affect each other.

    And my moods have stabilized since being in a healthier spiritual environment (in my case, and Eastern Catholic Church).

  • shadowspring

    My husband, the son of fundamentalist missionaries, was so ashamed of having anything at all physically wrong with him that he once refused treatment for a broken leg for 24 hours in hopes it would get better on its own! 0.0

    We have been through some very rough years in the last decade, things we kept between us as long as we could. Once I finally mentioned the problems to someone outside of close friend (my family doctor), he immediately told me that my husband was probably depressed and asked him to come in for an evaluation.

    Long story short, Lexapro and therapy are bringing back the man I married! As he continues to heal, our whole family’s life just keeps getting better. I am so thankful he had the courage to get help. Of course, it will all remain a secret to his fundamentalist family, who would surely see it as a sign of weakness. To me, it is a sign of great strength! He is once again, my hero. :-)

  • Renee

    Elizabeth, Thank you SO much for sharing this! My three girls are 15 and 17 months apart; they are 4, 3, and 2. I am now finally feelng normal, free, and mostly positive. Looking back, I realize that I was very depressed when the girls were smaller. I think it was some PPD combined with deep leftover depression from my spiritually abusive family and an excruciating marriage issue. Also, I was very isolated and lonely. I just thought that there was something wrong with me, and couldn’t figure out why my normally bubbly self was so dark and gloomy.
    God has been gently leading me down the path of healing, including strong friends/support groups, permission to take a break and rest, healing for my marriage, and gradually leaving the diaper stage. ;-)
    I am glorying in my liberated non-pregnant, non-nursing stage right now. Most days I think I want to have more children someday, but I still have this fear of starting the pregnancy/PPD cycle over again. We shall see. :-)
    Love your blog!! Thank you so much for writing; you bring so much joy and laughter to my days!! :-D

  • Peter

    I am always surprised that people think medication is somehow bad or unspiritual. God brings us help usually through the agency of other persons, God’s hands upon the earth. If your car runs out of gas and you pray for help, if someone comes along with a gas can do you tell them no, God will fill my tank? Don’t determine in advance how God has to help, your idea is probably wrong anyway.

  • Mark

    He is a hero!

  • Theresa in Alberta

    AMEN!!!! I wish someone had told me this 30 years ago, I would have saved myself years of pain
    signed
    Theresa

  • http://magicalrealist.blogspot.com Dana

    I am so with you about the inconsistency! I’ve been up and down for years and every day I woke up feeling okay, it was “proof” to me that I wasn’t really depressed and I just needed to try harder and it would never happen again. Ha.

    I finally started going to therapy this summer. No medications yet. I’m sort of starting to learn to be gentler with myself, at least as a management technique, but I have PhD comprehensive exams next week (15 hours of exams in three days) and part of me just doesn’t care. All I want to do is sleep. Two days this week I’ve slept 15 hours because I couldn’t bear to get out of bed. But I just don’t have TIME to focus on healing so I’m either completely shut down or in a state of panic.

  • Shannon

    Just came back (a day later) and read all the comments. Then cried. And, cried (all while my energetic two-year-old screamed for me to come and play).
    Reading all the comments helps me not to be as afraid of taking medication. It feels good to not feel alone.
    Your comment rings so true when you say, “Here’s how I know: I don’t have to work at feeling positive.”
    That’s what I’m looking for.

  • Joanie

    Strange that something with this many symptoms and feelings that we all have in common is still so misunderstood. EE, you said it when you wrote about laughing again and not having to work at feeling positive. SO true.

    I’m glad to hear you are healing!

  • Sarah

    When I was 16 I was diagnosed with depression and put on medication. Looking back, I think that was probably a few years too late. I attempted suicide when I was 10.

    The particular medication I was put on stopped the depression. It also stopped everything else. I stopped feeling at all. There was no more depression, but I was never happy. Never sad, angry, curious, nothing. I was like a zombie. Funtioning, but without a care as to why. A different doctor put me on a different medication, and suddenly, I was human again. Strangely, this medication that worked miracles for me is the same medication that turned a friend of mine from woeful and weepy to suicidal, murderous, and volatile. Guess we all need different ones.

    When I was better, I stopped taking my meds, as instructed by the doctor. And the effects lasted. Until I had my son at 22. And turned into a zombie again. He would cry, and I would look at him and think how easy it would be to just shut. him. up. permanently. He was so small, it wouldnt take much. And then I hated myself for thinking such things. And I couldnt tell anyone, because they would take my baby away because there was something wrong with me. Eventually, medication fixed me again.

    And now, I have to be careful what birth control I use. Because while some simply prevent my husband from recieveing a third surprise and make me a little weepy for a few days every month, some pretty much make me insane. I have panic attacks if I’m late to church, all the hymns make me cry, I wonder how long I could not take my son to school for before getting in trouble, and most worrying of all, I stare at my husband and children with pure hatred, wondering exactly how long it would take for someone to notice they were missing, and how exactly to hide the bodies, and would jail really be that much worse than this, anyway?

    So many people suffer, and so many things trigger it. I hate my brain, but I’m learning what to do and what to avoid so I’m ‘normal’.

  • http://50shousewife.blogspot.com 50s Housewife

    Sounds like you have a wonderful therapist. So glad you are feeling better!

  • lisa

    I didn’t even know it was depression. For the better part of a decade I’ve thought it was a horrible combination of character flaws and a bad attitude. I thought I was just ungrateful and moody and selfish and a bitch. (couldn’t find a good Christianese translation for that one) Now, several months into prozac, I can not believe how GREAT I finally feel. Really~ I feel like I could be a prozac evangelist! The ‘volume’ on all those overwhelmingly bad emotions that ruled me has been turned way down and I have internal room to relax, enjoy and live. I had no idea other people felt like this all the time.
    I don’t hate myself anymore. Imagine…. I have compassion for ME for once! I find myself giggling or just ENJOYING things. (totally new concept) Before I was efficient and diligent…. but never joyful. And when I wake up, the first words in my mind aren’t defeated swear words anymore (always a bad sign) but rather, I wake up ready to start again. I will never, ever, ever go back to that other place if I can help it.
    The fog was so comprehensive I couldn’t relax in God’s love either, always feeling like I was a failure in every category – or an impostor, at best. I’m breathing in the clear air of God’s affection and am finally resting in it (vs ‘trying’ to rest in it) . All that to say, there really IS help. You really CAN feel better.

  • http://journeytobeloved.blogspot.com I am His Beloved

    My oldest was born 11 years ago this month. I will never forget sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor not able to even make a sandwich for myself let alone care for a newborn. On top of that I was in the middle of fundamentalism and being preached at and told to ” just get over it” and ” look at Miss perfect missionary wife with 12 children, SHE just had her child yesterday and she is in church today!”
    I heard so many lies, there was so much shame I felt for not being able to function. On top of all this I wanted to jump out a window and die. I refused to not nurse even though I was in great pain and had a colicky baby. My marriage almost ended right then and there.
    Those where the darkest days of my life.
    One day I dragged myself into the hospital wondering what was wrong with me, they sent me home with Prozac.
    I became a walking dead person.
    My marriage after 10 years still hasn’t recovered from those months and years ( I became pregnant with my 2nd child 6 months later). I am better now but it was a lonely dark hell at the time. Wish your blog was around 10 years ago.
    Thank God for someone who is authentic. Who slays each lie we’ve been fed from fundamentalism and brings truth to light.
    Thank you Elizabeth.

  • http://www.madamerubies.com Heather

    Poetry IS medicine. My newest volume was published to help me heal from losing Natalie. It focuses on gratitude for the little things in life.

    You rock!

  • http://prenticefamily.wordpress.com Dallas Ann

    4 months after my daughter was born, I finally set aside my fundamentalist baggage (well, shoved it aside just enough) to ask for medication with my postpartum depression. It took me to the point of planning my suicide to realize that I was not okay and that simply praying every time my daughter nursed would not make this go away.

    I lost 6 precious months of my life and my daughter’s first days to that inky black darkness. I only have a few glimpses of memories and have to fill in my lost days with pictures my husband took. Thank God he had the wherewithal to take pictures.

    During my pregnancy with my son, I began to experience horrible mental and emotional things and yet again I struggled to shove aside my baggage to ask for help. Thankfully, it didn’t take me as long as before.

    Next time around, I pray I won’t wait. I pray it won’t happen but I’m not holding my breath. I don’t look good in that shade of blue. ;-)

    I long for days of peace and solitude. To rest. To shower. To simply be. We have no family and the cost of childcare is well beyond our means.

    Some day, when my children are older and not so intensely attached to me, I hope to be a postpartum doula. A woman who comes to the house after you’ve had a baby. She cleans, cooks, tends the older children, soothes the newest addition so Mama can sleep, shower or step outside for a while to absorb the sunshine. I desperately want to minister to women in my position and wish there was that for me, now.

  • http://farewellstranger.com MamaRobinJ

    Commenting on this old post because I find myself browsing around and finding posts like this, which lead me to other posts like this, and I relate to them all. I’m nearly 3 years in to my battle with PPD. Yes, 3 YEARS. I resisted help for so long and it made it worse. I’m at the point of taking some serious steps to kick this, so it’s always nice to read stories from people who have gotten past it.