Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Dancer in the Dark

I've alluded to post partum depression in past posts, (say that five times fast) but I won't link you because

a) I'm anxious that I link past-posts too much and it's annoying.

b) The mentions are minor and in passing where I basically call it the PPD fairy which makes it sound all sorta swell and almost charming and not the insidious mother fawker that it is. Yes I'm afraid of balls out swearing, dontcha know my grandmother reads this blog? The one with the abs of steel, ya, that one. Damnit! I just did it again. I have no self control.

Oh crap, fine. Here are the PPD ones. Here. And here.

But whatev's. We're all here now right? And let's get to the problem.

That charming little insidious beeyatch fairy is back. She's flying by dropping her thought bombs including these hits: 'Oh you're wasting your time on this planet and worse everyone else's' and 'This poor child will never survive with you as the Mother' or 'Darkdarkdark thoughts that one does not write out loud or certainly not put on the interweb'.

I know it's been documented and thank god for the Brooke Shields of the worlds who make talking about this dark-ass shit somehow okay but it's hard to come clean about it. Especially so publicly. I mean seriously god bless her, she admitted that she herself was suicidal and even wanted to hurt her child and sure that sounds freakin' nuts - but I get it. It got that bad for me on two separate occasions and it scared the living keerap out of me.

Today I didn't have to go all the way there, just enough into the darkness to remember what there felt like. It's a strange phenomenon that I will try to describe. I know this movie is damn old, but has anyone seen The Blob? Here's the trailer. Try to subtract the campiness of the movie and imagine what it might be like to actually get eaten alive by the blob. As if the worst feeling you've ever had came over you and enveloped you intending to kill you. You can't shake it, because it's slimy and stuck and worse of all, it's spreading. This is a great time for a panic attack, so you have one. Hopefully your Mom or sister in law or someone is there to hold the tiny helpless baby so you can go shake in the shower.


I find that the most insidious aspect is the mental discussion that insists that I'm at fault...especially now. 'What hormones? Comon' it's been six months...GET OVER YERSELF' kinda dealio. So that's where I've been these last few days. The only thing that's cheering me up is the gorgeous soaking that the LA basin is getting. At this very moment I hear rolling thunder (no wait, that's someone taking the trash). Damn. But it's raining buckets which is just the sound of hope, renewal and a tiny dream of green for our burned forests. Photo credit.
 
I think BHB is aware of the shift in me, which makes me feel even worse. He's still a laughing-banchee-screaming-guy with a ready smile but he no longer has any interest in going to sleep at night. Yep, we've resorted back to the three hour 'go-to-sleep-baybee' opera. I guess the bragging up here came back to kick me in the ass. Karma is a bitch.

And if you're wondering how I treat the PPD, back then I used acupuncture and homeopathics. Please email me if you want more info, I am so happy to share the 411. Today I used the Haagen-Daz cure which will only make it worse because sugar is evil dontcha know but sometimes you just gotta.

8 comments:

  1. To me, it is like yin and yang...for all the joy that a baby brings, having a child will also "help" you explore your emotional limits the other way. I have definitely had more extreme feelings in both directions than ever before since becominging a mom. A little more yin a little less yang for Jane, please. AND it is hormonal, still, I believe. And I'm a doctor, so trust me and give yourself some leeway.

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  2. Yes, beautifully said. When I was in the worst of it a friend of mine said that babies bring in so much light that you are forced look at your own dark. Thanks for your doctorly kindness, I appreciate it very much. :)

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  3. Oh man, I feel for you. I had PPAnxiety so bad I could not function and became convinced the world and my baby were better off without me.
    I went the zoloft route, but whatever works, grab it with both hands.
    Hang in there; it'll get better.

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  4. sorry you're in it again, you know i know that darkness too. i love you.

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  5. Just curious: why not medication? It worked wonders for me. I was in a darrrrrrrrrrrrrrrkkkkkkkkkk place when my kid was 7 mos old. I'm so freaking grateful to the makers of Wellbutrin. For. Reals.

    runhlrun.blogspot.com

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  6. Or is it greatful? I don't know. The baby ate my brain.

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  7. Hello lovely Heather of runhlrun.blogspot.com thanks so much for linking me btw, I shall return the fave. I searched high and low on your site to send you an email about the above but is it weird that I cannot a contact dealio? So if you wander back here, here's the thing. I'm worried about mood-altering meds 'cause I'm b-feeding. I know that many ob-gyns give the total thumbs but but have there been studies? Are we certain? Just a leeetle concerned is all. Any thoughts?
    and. 7 Months!? oh crap.

    I love the baby ate my brain line. He doesn't eat solids yet, but yes bhb ate my brain too. burp.

    and since I"m writing a post in my comments here, TS I love you too and know you know, you know?

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  8. I, too, have been eaten by The Blob several times since becoming a Mom. Did I say eaten? Try devoured. It is excruciating enough to do battle with The Blob; don't take on the added burden of telling yourself you're too many months in for it to be legit. If you're feeling it, it is legit. By the by, lack of sleep TOTALLY pushes me Blob-wards. Which explains why I haven't blogged in a rilly long time, or called you. I'm always around for the Haagen-Daz cure, or the talking cure, or the matinee cure, or the Hiking cure.

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