This is my Post-partum Anxiety and Depression Story

I still remember that October afternoon. I had just finished feeding Kristoff and Disney Junior was on TV. I just put him down on his crib so that I can rest my arms for a while. Then he cried. It was just his normal cry. His way to say ‘I want to play, Mommy’. But for me, at that time, his cry felt like a wail, trying to say that he hated me for putting him down. I picked him up, but his wails did not stop. I became confused, irritated. My breathing started to shorten. It felt like I just finished a marathon under the scorching sun. I just wanted to put him down until he stops wailing. I just wanted to run away from all that and disappear. But I can’t because I know Kristoff needed me. So, even with a heavy heart, I hummed to him until he fell asleep. I felt empty, completely empty, since that October afternoon.

This is my Post-partum Anxiety and Depression (PPAD) story.

They say that the first step to healing was to acknowledge and accept the fact that something is wrong, with our body, with our feelings, with our minds. In my case, it was with how my mind operated after that October afternoon. After that incident, I felt empty, disappointed with myself, irritated with even the simplest things, angry, confused. I even thought that I was going crazy because I would not normally feel or think about these things before. I found myself crying every day for petty or no reason at all. I just felt like crying, hoping that by crying all the negativity would go. But it just lingered even more.

I remember watching the coronation night of Miss Universe 2016 last January. When Pia was announced as the winner, I started sobbing. Not because she won, but because I started to feel empty inside again. And I don’t even have a reason to feel empty. I know I have a good life, I have a husband who loves me and I have a son who brings us laughter because of his antics. But, no. I felt bland. I actually cannot feel anything – no genuine feeling of excitement, joy. Nothing. It. Was. Blah.

The days were long and dark for me. I had to drag myself out of bed to do chores. Sometimes, I did not even want to move or lift a finger. I always felt tired even without doing anything, even by just lying down. If it were not for the fact that we do not have any house help, I would have probably just locked myself in our room all day, all week, all month.

The day that I said I needed professional help was the day when my husband and I fought for the nth time about a petty issue (which I do not remember what the issue was anymore today). Since I started feeling blue (and I mean, the darkest blue), I could not help myself feel unworthy of my husband’s love. And that translated to me being irritable and sensitive towards him every day. And that was why I would fight him or cry to him every chance I get. And that fighting was beginning to threaten my marriage. Our marriage. And so, I waved my white flag and decided that I needed to see a doctor. And so I did.

What transpired during my consultation with my psychiatrist was both a feeling of relief and fear. I was diagnosed to have Post-partum Anxiety and Depression (PPAD) nine months after I gave birth, but symptoms started to show when Kristoff was on his sixth month. My psychiatrist assured me that PPAD can be addressed through talk therapy and medication and that PPAD is one of the common mental health issues among mothers. That knowledge was partly a relief. But I also had fear – what if I become dependent with my medication? What if my family and friends see me as a crazy woman? What if I can’t handle bigger stressors in life that I become, in fact, crazy? These are the questions still running in my head until today.

I now accept the fact that I have PPAD. And knowing that I have such makes me more aware on what and how I feel at the moment. My medications are helping me with stabilizing my hormones because apparently, hormonal imbalance has also something to do with PPAD especially right after a mother’s birth. A dear friend of mine also told me that talking about it with family and friends would help me accept and overcome depression. And so I did.

And so, here I am, writing my experience publicly. Not only to have this as part of my therapy, but also for everyone to know that Post-partum Anxiety and Depression is real; and for mothers, especially first-time moms, to know that if they have gone through almost the same experience as I did, they are not alone.

I acknowledge the fact that I have PPAD and now I know how to manage it when feelings of emptiness start to creep in again. I now can smile because I know that I have a loving husband and a son who needs me and who would fight with me through this battle. I know that I am not alone. And so are the moms out there who experience the same. We can rise above PPAD.

P.S. Please like our Facebook page “Postpartum Heroes” if you like to know what PPADP is or if you would like to support mothers who have PPADP (Post-partum Anxiety, Depression, and Pyschosis).

*This post was originally written last March 2016

#mentalhealth #motherhood #postpartumanxiety #PostpartumDepression