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Postpartum Depression

I wither away from everything and darkness consumes me.

By Journey SkyPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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I think about never having another kid after my first, Gabriel—not because of the pain I endured but because I thought I would have so much more help. I thought things would be different and everyday I wake up and things are just the same. I wither away from everything and darkness consumes me. I want my partner Cody to help me more and he agrees to but every morning it’s the same routine. I try to wake him up to get the baby and he threatens me or gets angry. He then proceeds to put me down and say things like, “It’s easy. I could do this with my eyes closed and you act like it’s so hard,” or “stop acting like you never get to sleep.” It is hard though. I’m 19. I am a first time mom and I’m doing this basically alone. Sure, Cody covers the finances and he tries really hard to help; he does everything basically for me and Gabriel. I’m at home dealing with throw up everywhere and a fussy baby fighting sleep with everything he has, shitty diapers that climb up his back and seeps through onto anything he was laying on, trying to nap, and he wakes up for hours instead of laying back down right away. I don’t just sleep and when I do it’s for an hour or two, and when the baby does take a really good long nap, I have to get things done, like clean, call important places, or take care of me because I am still a person who needs to take care of my hygiene and my well being. It all sounds easy, I suppose, but then my depression kicks in and I’m left doing all these things while feeling the way I do. I can’t just take a minute to lay in bed all day and cry. I have to be up and alert taking care of my baby, then I still find myself nodding out because I’m so exhausted. I say “sleep when the baby sleeps,” but I don’t really do that because even when I try to lay down, I sit there awake thinking about everything, thinking about crying again. I guess what I’m feeling is wrong, and it should be easy but for me it isn’t. I keep looking forward though, keep counting down the days until he will start sleeping through the night and things get easier. I love my son to death.

I watch people love him. It makes me feel good to know so many people love my son because I often feel like I’m not enough. I don’t give enough love, or I’m not as reliable as I should be. I’m raising my son but am I really there for him? Believe me, I try. I’m there to soothe him when he needs someone. I feed him and adjust him so he gets every last bit. I change him and make sure he’s warm and happy. But I feel like I’m absent, maybe just absent minded. I’m just not here mentally. Like when my mother first passed away, it felt like everything kept moving and I was dragging my body just to move with everyone else, but I wasn’t there. I wasn’t in my right state of mind. I feel like that now and how can I be the mother I need to be when I’m not mentally here? I can stare at Gabriel sometimes and there could be nothing wrong with him yet I still ask myself what did I do to this poor child? I questioned my wellbeing during my pregnancy and if my depression or anxiety could have affected him in any way. I’m scared he will be broken like me.

depression
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About the Creator

Journey Sky

Writing has always been what I resort to when trying to express myself.

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