Parenting Through Depression

Yesterday I took a mental health day because I needed it.

November was a very stressful month (my daughter’s asthma flared up quite a bit, we had the car accident, the Darren Wilson non-indictment, etc.). I am an highly sensitive, emotional person and it takes a lot of energy to keep myself upright and smiling most days. But yesterday I woke up and realized that I’m quite tired of plastering a smile on my face and pretending that everything is fine when in fact it isn’t.

I tried to pinpoint when exactly I began having these depressive episodes and realized that I can trace them with certainty back to my first pregnancy with my daughter. I have struggled with depression off and on for the past eight years and it is frustrating to think you finally have a hold on something and then BOOM! It knocks you on your ass.

What is most frustrating is how I try to hide my “sad days” from my children. When I’m parenting through depression, I summon all the energy I have to smile at them and ask how their day was and help them with homework and shower them with extra “I love you’s” and “I’m proud of you’s” to make up for the fact that Mommy isn’t really “present.” I’m existing in the same space as them, but I’m not really present.

As Alex said in her post on battling depression, it’s not something you want to broadcast and that comes with its own bit of shame:

I hid my depression and later my anxiety attacks from everyone. No one knew that I was leading a double life. I couldn’t let the truth escape because I didn’t want to show how vulnerable and scared I was. I didn’t want people to think I was a basket case. I wanted people to believe that I was fine, that everything was just great. That that smile I wore during the day carried on at home. I had to conceal the truth.

Most people (including my family and close friends) don’t know I’ve struggled (and continue to struggle) because to them, I’m active and thriving and I answer their phone calls and texts when they reach out to me. I have a successful business, I’m a pretty busy writer, and so everything must be fine, right?

Often it’s not fine, but I don’t share that. Everyone has their own burdens and problems and I’m sure mine wouldn’t even make the top 10 in most people’s lives. So I keep it to myself.

But I now realize that I have to care about myself just as much as I care about my children. I want to be strong for them, but also for myself. Being kind and giving myself the space to figure things out is not just smart, it’s crucial.

So when I took that mental health day, I meant it. I meditated, I watched animated movies, I fed my body healthy food. I danced to music that made me happy and I wrote down all my fears and anxieties to help me better understand what I’m up against.

I feel much better. Not 100% healed, but that’s what time is for. Now it’s just up to me to continue to pursue activities that make the “sad days” less frequent (therapy, exercise, etc.).

Thank you for giving me a safe place. *hugs*