Coping with depression when you're a mum - Sarah Bones
/Coping with depression when you're a mum
*TRIGGER WARNING* - this post may trigger or upset you. If it does and you need some support please seek advice and support from your GP/Counsellor/Mental Health Professional.
It’s hard being a mum, and it’s even harder when you’re also dealing with depression. But it’s a battle many of us are fighting every day, including me. I can’t even remember when I was first diagnosed with depression, it’s been so long. But when I became a mum for the first time at the age of 28, seven years ago now, the fight got that much harder because I was no longer doing it just for myself; I was also doing it for my beautiful son, Dylan.
I’d had to wean myself off antidepressants during the pregnancy, and felt the effects of that in the first few months after he was born. But accountability was the main issue. I became accountable to this little human being I had brought into the world in a way I’d never felt before. Yes, we’re all held to account by someone since the day we’re born - to our parents when we’re young, to teachers when we start school, to our bosses at work, and to our partners when we commit to them. But becoming a mum is a whole new level of accountability.
I knew I could no longer wallow in my depression as I might have done previously; there was now a little personal relying on me completely, and suddenly I felt I had to pretend for him that life was wonderful, with nothing to cower from or agonise over. I knew that soon enough my son would start to feel empathy, self-consciousness and worry niggling at him, as all children do as they develop, but I wasn’t going to expose him to that too soon if I could help it.
If I was feeling down I’d always try and hide it from him, but sometimes depression and anxiety got the better of me. My anxiety would manifest in frequent panic about Dylan’s health, which wasn’t helped by his constant, ear-piercing cries which would have me ringing my parents in a state, exclaiming that he must be terribly ill to be screaming the way he was (which of course he wasn’t).
This constant, low-level anxiety sitting in my chest often descended into full-blown depressive episodes. Luckily, I had the support of my husband and parents, but that sense of being tied to another person so inextricably weighed heavily on me, and sometimes I just wanted to run into the sea.
The first few months of new motherhood are hard for all of us as you can lose your sense of identity other than as your child’s life source - no small responsibility. I felt like an extraneous part just floating around, landing wherever I was needed for however long, before bobbing off again to do something else for someone else - never returning to myself.
If you’ve suffered with depression before motherhood, as I had, it’s possible this will be exacerbated by becoming a parent. Or it could be the opposite - you might actually feel more settled, more grounded. It’s impossible to tell I think. I’m not ashamed to admit that I hated those first few months of Dylan’s life; I felt completely disjointed, and, if I’m being honest, that feeling has never completely left me.
My husband and I had our second son Charlie less than two years after Dylan was born. There wasn’t much time between their births for me to put myself back together again and, after Charlie was born, that sense of crushing displacement returned.
There have been many ups and downs since then. Dylan is now seven and Charlie is five. I’ve spent much of the last five years on this roller coaster, clumsily navigating the twists and turns of my mental health whilst often longing to step off. My depression mostly manifests as unexpected and sometimes extreme anger and irritability, which I try my hardest not to direct at my husband or the kids.
Sometimes I just have to disappear for a while. I used to have to take a lot of naps and I really worried about the children seeing that and wondering why mummy had to lie down so much. Antidepressants have been a feature of my life for a long time, and they help me cope with life. I rarely feel happy but I can manage, get through the days. Depression and I are not really fighting each other anymore; it’s more like a gentle dance with constant rise and fall, and a sense of acceptance.
I worry a lot though. I worry that my children, particularly Dylan who is quite sensitive and a bit anxious, will develop depression. I worry they’ll realise at some point soon that they have a depressed mum, who they’ll tell their friends about so that I’m that depressed mum at the school gates. The main thing I struggle with is when everything clouds over quite suddenly, without warning. If I’m at home with them on my own I can’t give in to it and escape to bed - they’re relying on me, and I’m reminded how accountable I am to them again.
But on the whole I feel steady, with occasional turbulence. The kids are older and some things have become a little easier. I’ve also started writing again, something I’ve always loved but lost many times, and that helps keep me rooted to myself.
For anyone else struggling with juggling depression and motherhood, I would say a few things:
Take all the help that’s offered, whether that be medication (obviously get medical advice on this), counselling, or just a friendly shoulder to lean on.
Talk to your children about mental health. I debated telling my kids about my depression for a long time, and decided it was important to at least discuss mental health with them. I haven’t gone into too much detail, but I’ve explained that sometimes people feel poorly in their heads in the same way they do in their bodies, and they need help to get better. We need to always be mindful of our children’s mental health and encourage them to talk about it; I hate the thought of Dylan or Charlie feeling down but not feeling like they can discuss it with me or anyone else.
Remember yourself and what you like to do. Depression feeds off putting everyone else’s needs above your own. It isn’t selfish to want time out or to spend time doing something you find creatively fulfilling or relaxing. You matter. You’re important.
I no longer think of myself as a depressed person but as someone living with depression. I refuse to let it define me and become my whole identity. It might be a second skin, but most of the time it’s invisible and I have hope that I can shed it completely someday.
Bio:
I'm a freelance journalist and blogger writing about various topics, including parenting and mental health.
You can see more of Talya over at:
