Dark days of depression

It has been 27 years since my experience, but I still recount those dark days as vividly as if they were yesterday.

Every woman who has suffered from postpartum depression has her own experiences and symptoms so I can only speak about the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness that I felt. Hopefully, speaking out will help other women to understand the importance of reaching out to a trusted person or doctor.

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly when my depression started. I functioned while I was pregnant with my second child, but I did not feel like myself.

Whenever I descended into unmanageable fatigue at work, I would crawl onto the counter in the dark room where the newspaper produced its black and white photographs and take a nap. I propelled myself through the week, went home, ordered pizza and never spoke to anyone or went anywhere.

When the baby came, I couldn’t stop crying. I felt unworthy of this baby and guilty because I didn’t feel happy. I felt that I couldn’t protect my children, but I have no idea what I felt I couldn’t protect them from.

Guilt and confusion weighed heavy on me. I felt like a bad mother because I didn’t feel exuberantly happy, and yet my children meant more to me than anything else in the world. It seemed impossible to articulate these feelings.

In those dark days, I devised ways to hide my feelings from everyone. I went through the motions, put one foot in front of the other and did my work because I didn’t want anyone to suspect what a bad person I was. It never occurred to me that I could be suffering from a hormone imbalance or depression. This was simply me – another me—coping the best I could.

The feeling of being unable to climb out of a deep, dark abyss continued for months. One day I went to the doctor because I was constantly sick, and the doctor realised I had been suffering from depression.

When he pointed this out, I argued with him and said, “No, I don’t feel sad. I just feel tired.” He talked me into taking some medication for depression. “Sometimes,” he said, “you need to jump-start your emotions.” I remember when my feelings came back to me. I was in a car with a friend when I suddenly felt my lower lip tingle. This is strange, I thought. I felt my lip.

Slowly I began to feel my face and then my arms and hands and legs. I felt like a cartoon character coming to life.

In hindsight, I realise I had suffered from postpartum depression.

I got help because an astute doctor made a diagnosis and talked me into following his advice.

I grieve sometimes for the lost moments of happiness I could have shared with my children during that period. I didn’t have to suffer for months. Looking back, I wish I had confided in someone. I didn’t know there is help for depression – even if you don’t recognise that is what it is.

All you have to realise is that something is not quite right.

All you have to do is reach out to someone and reclaim a sense of trust so that you can get the help you need.