Make something Monday

Looking after a 2.5 year old is a challenge at the best of times, let alone whilst nearly 37 weeks pregnant and suffering from depression. I find that Sophie needs so much attention and energy from me, and my depression lethargy and lack of motivation or interest makes it very hard to give.

The temptation is, of course, to put her in front of the TV for the day and then just sit doing nothing myself, but I know that's not the right, or healthy, choice for either of us.

So, to try and keep myself motivated and to make sure I spend at least a bit of time with Sophie each day giving her my undivided attention,  I've started to try to get us into a bit of a routine on weekdays.

Today was Make Something Monday - the point being that it doesn't matter what we do; crafts, cooking, playdoh; as long as we make something. Sophie has a great love for playing fancy dress at the moment so we decided to try and make some homemade jewellery out of whatever we could find in our craft boxes!

We ended up with paint, glitter, stickers, sprinkle decorations and toilet rolls.


Sophie is a petite wee thing and toilet/kitchen rolls still fit round her wrists, so we simply cut them up and got messy making some creations. Admittedly, they probably won't last very long, Sophie has no concept of moderation when it comes to paint and some of the cardboard got quite soggy, but half the fun is in the making anyway!

She's been very proud of her homemade bracelets all afternoon, showing anyone who'll look. They'll be going in her fancy dress box tonight and I'll have to start thinking of something new for us to try making next Monday. Suggestions very welcome :) 

Numbing the pain but not curing the problem

I am frustrated today.

I've spent the last two days feeling reasonably 'normal'. No tears, no curling up in a non-responsive ball and a few smiles even (mostly thanks to my daughter). I've interacted with some close friends and family, and successfully done a nursery drop off & collection without calling on anyone to help.

These things may not sound like much, but this time last week I was in hospital struggling to eat, or to stop crying, sleeping and staring into space all day and refusing visitors. I can see the progress I'm making and practically feel the magical powers of Citalopram (my antidepressant of choice)  kicking in. It is a huge relief to take even tiny steps away from where I was, and I'm grateful for that.

However.

Technically, I am not actually any happier.

The things that pained me before still hurt, I still have no sense of self worth or esteem and I still regard my life as a big fat mess of nothingness. I feel trapped, I feel like my life is pretty much over, like it's a pointless battle because I've nothing to add to the world, nothing to give of any worth. Nobody actually cares about me, they're all just pretending.

I know how it must seem, to be saying this as a mother, and at 36 weeks pregnant. I know that there are people who would give anything to have some of the things I am blessed with in life, and I know that I have a million things to look forward to. But, it just doesn't matter.
Knowing those things doesn't make me care any more than I do. It just makes me feel guilty for feeling this way. Makes me see even more bad in myself for being so selfish.

Perhaps some of this is down to sheer exhaustion. I've been sleeping terribly since I started the 20mg dose of citalopram (insomnia is a side effect unfortunately) sometimes taking 3 hours to go off, and with the added discomfort of being kicked in the ribs at regular intervals by peanut. Plus, last night I was in A&E until 2am with my dad whose been unwell all week. It's all taking it's toll a little.

I know it's more than that though. Anti depressants aren't happy pills. They've not turned off my problems or made me see things differently. They're just helping me function, stopping me from spending every waking moment thinking about things that are wrong in my life and keeping the intense emotional response to these thoughts at arms length. The feeling is still there, but the emotion, the tears, the complete overwhelming need to just wallow is fading a bit.

It looks like I'm on my own with the fight against the rest of it. And that's ok, I think I've some fight left in here somewhere.... I've just got to find it.

Looking forward

Put bluntly I have had a shitty time the past few months.

I am a frequent sufferer of depression and stopped taking my regular medication when I found out I was pregnant last year, because I figured it was the best thing to do for the baby.  I'd not had a serious bout of depression for a couple of years and wasn't worried about stopping taking them.

However, slowly but surely depression and anxiety has edged it's way back into my life during my pregnancy, and things have been pretty up and down, until, last week at 35 weeks pregnant, I ended up in hospital on drips and seeing mental health advisors.

My depression had gotten so bad I was struggling to eat.

I can honestly say I've had some of my darkest days in the last few months. I have felt completely lost, hopeless and worthless. I've spent days curled up and crying, literally doing nothing else. I've ignored my beautiful daughter, neglected my husband and friends and separated myself from the impending arrival of baby number two because I've been wrapped up in my world of darkness. Ive also found out, as is often the case in these situations, who my true friends are.

I've never had such overwhelming feelings of worthlessness and despair, it has been terrifying what my mind can do to me.

BUT I can see some blue sky now.

I am back on anti depressants and they're starting to work. I am starting to notice little bits of joy in things again and every so often I catch myself smiling. Smiling! Just three days ago alone in my hospital bed the idea of smiling seemed impossible to comprehend.

So, with three weeks to go until I'm booked in to have a cesarean and meet my baby boy, I am looking forward. I am focusing on tomorrow being filled with a little bit more joy & a few more smiles. On time with my daughter and finding myself again.

All I ever wanted to do was write. But I've never actually tried to do it. So, to look forward, onwards and upwards, here I am, trying something new. Taking a little step towards something better.

Depression isn't everything I am. But I guess you'll have to keep reading to find out about the rest...... :)