One Year Ago
One year ago, I died and went to hell.
I had lost the ability to feel anything other than anger and hatred toward myself, and I couldn’t sleep. Everywhere I went was covered in a thick layer of fog. I could never tell if I was dreaming or actually there. I spent the majority of my days sitting on the couch watching Julie play while cringing at the fact that a new baby was attached to my boob constantly.
Memories of April’s first few months of life are dim because I simply wasn’t present.
My midwife explained to James a couple months later that I was “Tamra from a distance”. I could see and hear him and the kids, but I couldn’t reach them. I needed psychiatric treatment last November in a bad way, but James and I failed to recognize the signs of postpartum depression so severe that it was bordering psychosis. Most women suffering from that kind of mental illness cry and can barely function. That wasn’t me, though. I couldn’t cry, even though I longed to, and I robotically followed the motions of daily life. From the outside, I was just an exhausted new mom, maybe a little down. I put on a good fake smile. Denial.
Acting became a part of daily life. I showered and brushed my hair every time we left the house or a family member stopped by. I didn’t know I was depressed, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone know that I had a feeling something wasn’t right. Too proud, just like the family that raised me.
I can’t remember last November. I have no recollection of celebrating the holidays or what I bought everyone for Christmas. Did I get anyone gifts? Did I even get my own kids something from St. Nicholas? Maybe someone pulled out a camera with proof that I was breathing through that time, but it sure wasn’t me.
Every day I thought about killing myself. I tried to leave James and the kids a couple of times. Packed a backpack, struggled to find my keys, and blankly told my husband I was going somewhere. He didn’t really try to stop me- he didn’t know what the hell was going through my head, and he didn’t want to admit that his wife really had lost her mind. Denial.
I don’t remember not leaving or how many times the vision of driving to the beach, walking towards the waves, and never stopping or looking back crossed my manic thoughts.
What I do remember was the panic exploding in my chest while I struggled to find the patience to deal with a screaming, crying newborn. Sitting on the bathroom floor with a sharp blade for God-only-knows-how-long wondering idly if I would be able to feel the cool metal against my wrist, or if I was already so dead that it’d be just another hazy moment, dulled by the hell that I had surrendered to. The emptiness that sex filled me with. My hatred for that shell of a human that stared vacantly at me in the mirror.
The fact that I am sitting at my kitchen table next to an open window filled with blue skies and sunlight in the gorgeous city of Seattle, Washington a year later is proof to me that there simply MUST be a God, He/She MUST love me, and for whatever reason… my life MUST be worth living.
I believe that now.
A year ago, I couldn’t.
Karley said,
November 11, 2009 @ 12:56 pm
You are very brave for sharing your story. Depression is a real illness and we all know that there is a stigma attached to mental illness.
I am hoping it will change. When I was diagnosed with depression and put on Prozac, I didn’t want to tell anyone. I was embarrassed. I had battled depression on and off for years and “seemed” to have it under control in college through counseling.
Years of self-loathing ranging from making poor choices without thinking of consequences to anorexia and bulimia to overeating kind of masked the core problem. I would be OK on the surface for years at a time. When my father died of cancer while I was pregnant with baby #2, I hid my pain and once my son was born and the hormones raged, I just *knew* something was wrong. Really wrong.
Exercise…yoga and pilates and meditation….my Reiki…well, none of it helped. Medication did, thankfully.
When you’re past that dark cloud and can see yourself in a new light–you can embrace happiness and the sunshine and just SMILE and be happy again, love again, LIVE again…it then truly feels like a miracle.
You have come a long way and should be very proud.
((HUGS))
Tamra said,
November 11, 2009 @ 5:15 pm
Thank you so much, Karley, for both your support and for sharing your own story. So often I feel alone… even though I’m not. Hearing others tell of their experience reminds me that I’m not, and that admitting I struggle with this does NOT make me weak or a failure.
Samantha said,
November 11, 2009 @ 7:47 pm
Look how far you’ve come Tamra! God is good!
Katherine Stone said,
November 11, 2009 @ 8:12 pm
Thanks so much for sharing this. I’m so glad you are seeing the sun again!
Rosanne said,
November 11, 2009 @ 10:59 pm
I don’t really have words – just sending love and admiration to you always.
Kelly Langner Sauer said,
November 12, 2009 @ 7:43 am
I know this journey. I wasn’t so bad that I was suicidal, but I know. I can hardly believe someone else gets it.
It took ten salmon oil capsules (and a lot of B vitamins) a day to even begin to balance me after my daughter’s birth 2.5 years ago, and we’re expecting another baby in December. I’m scared. We’re looking at placental medicine to try to scale down this time.
Enjoy the sun, okay? So glad you’re alive to feel it, to share.
adayinthelife said,
November 12, 2009 @ 10:31 am
You are so very brave for sharing so much of your story. Even though I’ve never struggled with PPD, I have struggled with depression, and it’s a story I’ve only fully shared with my mom and fiance. I really admire you for what you’ve been through. It’s so amazing to look back on where you’ve come from and see how far you’ve come, but at the same time it can be scary to realize just how low you were and that if it weren’t for the people who loved you enough to intervene and a God that knew it wasn’t your time to die, you may be dead right now. Its a thought that really humbles me. Thanks for sharing.
Lisa said,
November 13, 2009 @ 8:58 am
I was there too. Eleven and a half years ago. It’s a miracle. You are a survivor – no small feat.
Clarice said,
November 13, 2009 @ 9:51 pm
Your story was well said and appreciated. I too was there, I wanted a baby more than anything, as soon as my son was born, I remember feeling cloudy. I thought this would pass, but it grew into a deep depression that I did have to be hospitalized. Not one day goes by where I do not think of those 4 months that where so dark and lonely, I sometimes wonder how I made it. You remind me of the fact that there is a God that loved me and picked me up…… I am so greatful for that. For all PPD suffers and for women who had tragic endings, my heart goes out to their families. PPD is nothing to be ashamed of….
Kimberly said,
November 16, 2009 @ 6:06 am
Your story is such an inspiration. Thank you so much for being honest and open. I too wish that someday I will be able to look beyond the fog of PPD and feel like myself again. Stories like yours instill hope and prove that PPD can be beaten…that PPD does go away. Thank you. You are such a brave woman.
nicole said,
December 21, 2009 @ 10:28 am
i can relate to the part about not being able to look in the mirror. i remember wondering if i was even really here… the complete and total misery was terrifying. this also happened to me one year ago about this time – and i am glad to report that i have come to the same conclusion that you have! thank you so much for the honest sharing.
Kris Costello said,
December 29, 2009 @ 9:35 am
I, too, went through a terrible bout with PPD several years ago.
Thank goodness, I finally found help, through a combination of mega vitamins, counseling and other lifestyle changes. This harrowing experience, along with my eventual recovery, inspired me to try to help others who are going through difficult experiences with their health. To that end, I now produce and host a radio show called Wellness TalkRadio. Each week I interview an expert, with the goal of helping others through the advice provided on the show. You may listen to some of my interviews at http://www.wellnesstalkradio.com
My company also produces live video broadcasts that – like my radio show — are dedicated to helping people solve their health issues. On January 16th, our broadcast, which will be available live over the Internet, will feature clinical psychologist, Dr. Shoshana Bennett, author of Beyond the Blues: Prenatal and Postpartum Depression, a Treatment Manual. In this live video seminar, Dr. Bennett will cover many issues regarding surviving Postpartum Depression, as well as ways to get support and recover. She will take questions via phone and email – and will be geared toward both parents and practitioners.
I hope that you and your blog visitors will be able to join us. Please go to http://drshoshlive.eventbrite.com/ for more information. And please feel free to email or call me, as well. My contact information is below.
Kris Costello
http://www.wellnesstalkradio.com
kris@wellnesstalkradio.com
805 717 0795