I’ve tried time and time again this week to do as Adrienne and Katie have said before. To “see the words just behind my eyes” and write them. I’ve contemplated closing my eyes as I type this post, but I’m afraid that the only result I’d achieve is falling asleep sitting up. Which would only serve to make the pain in my neck and back worse instead of even a little better.
This has just been a really shitty week. And that’s truly the most adequate way to describe it.
There have been shiny moments of sun and sparkles. Like today, which was nearly awesome.
But mostly?
Just shitty.
I feel compelled to write about it because that’s what I do. But I don’t know what to say. Or how to put words to what is in my heart and my head.
This has been a week of misunderstandings born from failures of all kinds. A week of putting my ego and my mouth in check. Of guarding my heart. And of being more open to sharing it when it needs to be shared.
It has been a week of teaching. And of learning to adjust my attitude and ideas.
I have constantly watched my words and thoughts so they wouldn’t come flying out of my mouth OR become my actions. I have exhausted myself in doing this.
Normally? I’m pretty good at holding my tongue. (Yes, I’m serious.) Or of thinking of the best way to say something so as to not hurt others.
I do not like to hurt people.
This week?
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This week I have hurt people with my words. Unintentionally. But hurt. And I dwell in that even after saying “I’m sorry.”
I dwell in that hurt because even if others can forgive me, I have a really hard time forgiving myself.
Learning to forgive myself is the hardest thing I’ll probably ever do.
It has been a week of rain. So. Much. Rain.
So much rain I need a rowboat and a paddle to get out of the puddles.
I’ve grabbed that proverbial paddle for my imaginary row boat and I’ve been paddling along, steadily, all week long, hoping to get somewhere. And still? I feel nowhere.
I do not know where this funk is coming from. But I want to row, row, row my boat right on out of this funk.
If only I could row a little harder, a little faster. If only I were a little stronger.
If you're reading this in the middle of it:
I wrote this in 2011. Postpartum depression and anxiety haven't changed since, and neither has this: You are not alone, it is not your fault, and you will get better.
Some days are going to be bad ones. Those days don't mean you're a bad mom. In the worst moments of my postpartum depression I said one line to myself so often that I eventually had it tattooed on my wrist: Finish each day. That's all you have to do today. Finish it. Tomorrow you get to start over.
If you need someone right now:
- 988 — Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. Call or text. 24/7.
- 1-833-TLC-MAMA (1-833-852-6262) — National Maternal Mental Health Hotline. Free, 24/7, English, Spanish, and 60+ other languages.
- Text HOME to 741741 — Crisis Text Line. 24/7.
- If you or your baby are in immediate danger, call 911.
For support that isn't an emergency:
- Postpartum Support International — call or text 1-800-944-4773 (Spanish text: 971-203-7773), 8am–11pm ET. This is a "warm line" of people who will listen and point you toward help near you. The PSI website also has provider directories and free online support groups.
Telling one person is the hardest part. Your partner, your mother, your friend, your doctor or your child's doctor. Say the words out loud. And remember you're not alone.
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