My postpartum recovery has been a journey I was not prepared for, and for the longest time I told myself this would be a solo trip. I convinced myself that I was strong enough to do it all on my own. For a while I was fine-eating well, exercising, spending time with friends, and getting my life back in order. I made time for myself and the things that made me happy. I was under the impression that if my life was productive I was better. I stopped hiding my thoughts or emotions with family and friends. And for a while all of this had been working, until our wedding…
Our wedding brought out a lot of inner turmoil I had put in a box and locked inside my mind.
What I thought would be a happy time turned into days of cloudy skies and thunderstorms. My low moments started to creep back into my daily life. Tyler would say something that would trigger an insecurity, or I would hear words family members exchanged about me behind my back.
I started to realize all the darkness in my mind was taking over again, and I couldn’t control it.
The one characteristic I pride about myself is my ability to take a step back and evaluate how I’m feeling. When I finally took a moment of peace I realized my need & want to just feel normal again. I so badly wanted to get through a day without crying or hurting. But what else could I do? It seemed as though I had sought out every option before getting back on meds.
When I finally sat down and talked with Tyler about everything I was experiencing we came to the conclusion that I needed help. So I researched primary care doctors in the area in hopes we could find a solution. When I found one that specialized in women’s health I decided to make an appointment. Thanks to the internet I was able to schedule a time online. One of the questions I had to fill out asked for the purpose of this visit, and there was a postpartum depression option. For a second I hovered over it and asked myself if I was really ready. With high hopes I submitted my request for an appointment.
About two hours later I received a call from the doctor’s office. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see the doctor until mid-September, but they had an option for the mean time. I could see a social worker who held an office in the same building, and was seeing patients with postpartum depression. I jumped at the opportunity and scheduled my first appointment for the following week.
I grew up in a home where therapy wasn’t an option. If you were hurting, you went to church…you prayed.
But at this point I was prepared to try anything, and truthfully, I was nervous of what people would say when they found out. But I put those fears aside and went into this with an open mind. Finally, I would get some outside perspective…and maybe I could find the right solution.
So here I am, two therapy sessions under my belt and working my way through this journey. I started this recovery process like Frodo towards the end of The Fellowship of the Ring, pushing everyone out and feeling like I had to take on this huge journey by myself.
What I’m slowly realizing is that I can’t do this alone.
Asking for help outside of your comfort zone can be scary or intimidating, but sometimes it is necessary. We weren’t put on this earth to travel alone. When I opened up to my family about therapy I was met with positivity. They supported me 100% in my decision and seemed a bit relieved, which is more than I could ask for.
As for my sessions all I can say is things are going well, and I’m taking each moment one day at a time.