December Blahs

When I tell people that I struggle with depression they usually are surprised. They say something like, “But you’re so happy!”

And I’m like, “I know, right? I am happy. I’m really happy.”

Except when I’m not. Then I’m really not.

I was diagnosed with postpartum depression about 6 months after Little Guy was born. He’s two now, so it’s been ongoing. I’m starting to wonder at what point this stops being “postpartum” and just becomes straight up depression. I keep referring to it as postpartum because then I have hope that it will go away. That maybe if I get pregnant again or something my hormones will do a crazy switch and I’ll be back to normal.

I don’t know. I can always hope.

If I’m going to write a blog about my life then it has to include the icky parts too, right? Otherwise I could paint a pretty picture of what my life is and will be completely false. And over the last 2 years I have met and talked with dozens of women who have the same struggles. Can we all just stop pretending that we’re okay? Because we’re not. I know I’m not. Some days are great, some are not great, some are downright awful.

Christmas is especially hard because everyone’s so darn happy. When I feel good I don’t mind it. But when I am feeling so full of despair that my heart feels like it might stop beating out of heaviness, I. can’t. stand. Gene Autry. Or Bing Crosby. Or any of those other Christmas crooners. Dear God make all the Christmas music stop.

Gene Autry: Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer And Other Christmas Favorites

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Shut Up, Gene!

I don’t write this because I want you to feel sorry for me. Ick. Don’t do that. I’m writing this because I know I’m not the only one out there who is depressed. If you are struggling, know that you’re not alone. We aren’t. Sometimes it takes a little vulnerability to find someone else to commiserate with. But. it’s. worth. it. I promise. I recently met with someone who is on the other side of postpartum depression. I found hope through talking with her. So even if your baby is 30 years old and you are still waiting for your hormones to level out…you are not alone.

Merry Christmas.


2 thoughts on “December Blahs

  1. Pingback: 5 Reasons Why We Don’t Do Santa Claus | The Dependent Life

  2. Pingback: Fighting Back at Entitlement | The Dependent Life

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