There was this place I once fell into, its rapture something like the arms of hell barricading me, holding me back. I fought and struggled to break free but the force kept me still. Like running through quicksand. I remember screaming at blurred faces that couldn't hear me. Because in the reality outside my mind, I wasn't speaking at all. I was numb. Empty. Gone.
It was something like five years ago I found a darkness so dark, thought I'd never see the light again. This thing called postpartum depression is real. It's not a bad day. It's not something you can wish away. It's real, like the scars you can't see. I had next to no support system (still don't, really) and almost didn't recover. In fact, it was me who saved myself. No one else. Not my family. Not my friends. Not my husband. I pulled myself up, dragged my lonely heart into any [and all] remedies and did something that seemed impossible at the time.
I started talking about it.
Opening the dialogue let me set the pain free. I found TWLOHA. I got some Medicine. I opened up. Not because it was comfortable or because it was easy. It wasn't. I did it because my daughter deserved a happy mother.
And now, I'm doing it again. For both of my babies. And for me.
My beautiful son, Sullivan, is now 2 weeks and a day. My gorgeous daughter, Lilliana, is now 5 years and a day (yes, they share a birthday). They are everything that is everything to me and I desperately want to feel the blessings they've bestowed upon me. But first I have to clear away the clouds in my way. Like...
Loneliness.
Regret.
Guilt.
Sadness.
Fatigue.
Emptiness.
Worthlessness.
And an overwhelming sense of Skynyrd Syndrome...
("If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?")
I'm a writer, so I write. With all the truth I have in me. About pain. Loss. Grief. And everything in between whether it's easy or not. Whether it's comfortable or not. Because the Internet is written in ink. It's OKAY to tell someone you're hurting. It's OKAY to tell someone you need a hug. It's OKAY to tell someone you need help. It's OKAY to open up.
It doesn't make you weak. It makes you strong.
This is the first step and I know this too, shall pass. As long as I keep talking. From here, I will hold on with both hands to those two miracles that shared my body and kicked me awake as I slept. It's in those faces I have reason to believe I can heal.
For good this time.
Miss you. Love you. Mean it.
Candyland. OUT.
16 comments:
I know this post is so true it's painful, but I just have to say: it fucking rocks to have you back. You just made my day, sistah.
I'm sorry to hear that this postpartum is like the last one -- but it can't be *completely* like the last one.
Because you know what's on the other side.
Glad to have you back! Willing to be the support system! Sending hugs and a kiss on the head to that adorable little boy!
Glad you're back, though sorry you're having a hard time. Hope writing helps you get through it. As I'm sure Sullivan will help too.
I read this, and Candance, I went through this too and the only person who brought me out of it was me. The only thing that got me through it was writing and music, actually. I didn't talk to anyone till later. I know what you are feeling, if you need to talk to anyone, please email me. You have two amazing blessings. You can get through it, you have done it before and will again.
cdanek13(at)gmail(dot)com
I love you like a fat kid loves cake. This post was honest, raw, and wonderful... just like you. If you ever need anything just know we are all here for you.
PS - I think it's an amazing blessing your children share the same birthday. I guess someone was telling you that was one very special day. You definitely got the memo!
Keep talking.
We're listening, even if we lack sufficient words (like me, in this moment) to fully respond.
I hear you, Candace, that's all I can say right now.
Keep fighting. Keep doing what it takes, and kiss those beautiful babies for me- both of them.
~bru
keeping treading lady!
love your honesty!
love you!
Hang in there, girl.
Hugs to you and I hope you can get through this sooner than later.
What does your doctor say???
Just remember to put on one smile at at time and pretty soon you won't even have to think about it. Besides you waited so long for this miracle. I don't believe in the Skynyrd Syndrome. I am more a believer of the Aerosmith Alleviation (I don't want to miss a thing!) And to get even cheesier: Keep smiling; know you can always count on us. That's what friends are for.
Candace, I went through this as well 6 years ago with my daughter. I didn't get help until she was 5 months old and I should have much earlier. I know what its like feeling empty inside, or feeling like you just don't want to get out of bed. Everything hurts and is magnified every time that baby cries. My husband is the one who took care of her that first 5 months- he's the one that bonded with her in the beginning. I used to be ashamed to talk about it, but now I do because there are mothers out there who need to know it can happen and they aren't bad mothers because of it. I am glad you are realizing it early on so you can catch it. I'm terrified it will happen again with my next one but now I know what to look for like you. Hang in there, we are all here supporting you. One day at a time, girl.
Been there.
Write like your life depended on it. You have so many amazing things to share.
Then give those beautiful children tons of hugs and kisses.
I really wish I could hold you in my arms right now ... :o(
PPD is so hard. With my second I remember sitting on the couch and crying for hours and repeating over and over, "its just post partum stuff." Writing helped and so did time, which you already know! Big Hugs.
BIG HUGS! I know, girl--I KNOW!!!
Hugs. He's beautiful :)
I have awarded you the One Lovely Blog Award. Stop by and pick it up :)
http://donna-realworldwriting.blogspot.com/2011/10/happy-halloween-and-award-to-pass-along.html
I've been there. I was so low. I knew I wanted so much to be happy with my newborn, but I wasn't. I was in a dark pit, but eventually, I climbed out of it; you will too.
Keep writing. Keep sharing. Don't keep it bottled up.
Take care of yourself -don't worry about the house or the maternity pants. Give yourself time to recover from creating a life! Despite being the most natural thing in the world, it's also the most amazing and most difficult!
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