Yeah girl, it was that bad.
In December I had my first very own geeky baby. I wasn’t due until the end of January, but as it were Geeky Baby was ready to enter.
I won't go into the details of the birth, just imagine I was a first-time mom saying "what?" and "holy fuck" a lot.
But I had some bottles purchased, had some onesies and sleepers laid out and a good stock of diapers. I was prepared.
What I was not prepared for was Postpartum Depression.
On the cusp of the Black Panther premiere, I went from enthusiastically talking about this movie for months to feeling like nothing, not even Black Panther, could give me joy.
When most people think of postpartum depression, they recall some pretty awful news stories that I can't bear to repeat. Even the doctor asks you in a dry tone, "have you had thoughts of harming your child?"
Oh? No. I like GB. It was me I didn't like. Since what I had only known about postpartum was from the media, I didn't think I had it because my feelings weren't toward GB, they were toward me.
I felt hopeless. I felt inadequate. I cried for 4 hours a day. I felt like I was the most awful person and couldn't tell you why I thought that but the feeling was strong. I couldn't eat but I just chalked it up to the nausea.
It wasn't until my husband took notice that I was able to get what I needed.
He kinda got a head start. GB was a preemie and spent a few weeks in the NICU, so the nurses pulled him aside and gave him some signs to watch out for. He comforted me and he took the time to make sure I ate. But when he asked me about buying tickets to Black Panther and I just shrugged, he knew something was really wrong.
So why am I telling you this story? Because as Geeky Girls, we know the things we love and give us joy. Mental illness tries to take that away from us. But if we can stay ahead and know when it’s coming, we can win this fight.
Still, I wasn't enthused about leaving the house. I really did not want to go.
So, I'm gonna offer a bit of advice for anyone struggling with any type of depression: Go Anyway.
After leaving the movie theater, I not only had to thank my husband for pushing me to go, but my best friend who paid for my movie tickets and babysat just so I could go. And she isn't even a big comic fan, she just knew it was important to me.
I walked out refreshed and ready to face the day. It would still take time to see a large improvement in my PPD (I'm doing much better now) but that small thing really made a huge leap in my recovery.
So again. Leave your house. Do it. Don't abandon the things you love. It doesn't resolve it completely, but damn it helps.
So, I'd like to know if any of you have dealt with depression, postpartum or otherwise. Leave a comment and tell me about your coping mechanisms, your support people, and your "aha" moments
If you know someone having issues with postpartum depression, here are some helpful links: