Truth be told

Right then

No more messing about.

The idea of me writing a blog came from a need to get all the horrible shit out of my head by being as honest as possible. I've congratulated myself on my bravery but lets face facts; I've written bugger all.

So the time has come. Everything is coming out now. I feel sick at the thought - how will it be perceived? Doesn't matter - I will stagnate no longer.

I've thought about death a lot lately. It's my belief that my being here serves no purpose and that everyone will be much better off without me here to complicate matters. I don't know if I'd ever do more than think about it but I've already got a rough idea of how I would make it happen. I keep having nightmares that I'm attacked in my living room. They are really vivid and involve me basically having the shit kicked out of me by person or persons unknown. As I lie on my floor breathing my last my OH comes home from work to find me there. I find the strength to tell him I love him, that the little man is safe and that he should move on. The dream then shows him in the hospital getting told that I've gone and although there is grief on his face there is also relief that I'm at piece and he can move on.

Most of the time I'm convinced he wants to leave me. I have no definite reasons for this. I don't see him much because of the hours he works. On weekends he catches up on his sleep and then wants to go out and visit his family. I never want to go anywhere because of the anxiety. Sometimes I go so we can spend time together but then I get upset because he'll wander from room to room to talk to people while I just sit in the one place feeling very much in the way. I can't ask him not to do these things - he should see his family. I need to socialise more and I enjoy their company very much but I know he'd enjoy himself more if I wasn't there with a face like thunder and the personality of a dead slug.

I get upset over the most stupidest of things. I get more upset when I try to talk about how I feel, the words come out choked when they come at all. I can bullshit all day long about the most trivial of subjects but when it comes to complete balls to the wall honesty I'm lost. He thinks he's responsible for my pnd and making me miserable. He can't see that its for him and the little man that I hang on so tightly. If I didn't have him I'd be lost.

I know I said at the beginning of this post that everything would come out but I'm totally drained. I'll need to psyche myself up for a while before I can consider opening so many wounds all at once again.

Till next time, ta ta!

Who am I?

I know its common for new parents to wonder if their individuality has been drowned by all things baby but this doesn't feel like it's a phase.

I used to identify myself by the things I used to enjoy. I got seriously into music in my teens - who didn't you may ask - and that love continued for a good long while. Not just new bands and artists but older people. I'd get such a buzz off falling in love with a random little song that no one else had heard of. Growing up it was radio 1 on an evening - Steve Lamacq followed by John Peel then Mark & Lard. I'd forsake sleep on many a night so I wouldn't miss these guru's of musical knowledge feeling like I was being enlightened in some way.

These days its a miracle if the radio gets played at all and if it is its generally just background "filler" music that I've heard a million times before.

It doesn't seem like a big deal when I read that back to myself but it feels like it. I don't miss going out drinking or any of the many other things that are sacrificed when there is a baby to care for. You may wonder what stops me enjoying music or film or books like I did - surely a baby wont get in the way of all that... You'd be right, he doesn't. He's more concerned with getting his toes into his mouth to worry about his mother's crisis of identity!

I've tried, I mean really tried to get back into my old routines of the radio on an evening with a book in hand but just cant seem to concentrate on anything. My attention span for anything that requires more than 20 or so minutes is just not there.

The reason this has become a major concern is that I want to come off my meds. I don't like them - they're supposed to make me calm on an evening to reduce me feeling anxious and panicky but instead I find they just knock me out. Not good, especially when you have to get up through the night to see to the baby. So I started to think of other times in my life when I would get stressed out and what would calm me down. That's when it dawned on me I couldn't name one current musical artist that I owned anything by. I couldn't remember the last book I bought. I couldn't remember getting really enthusiastic about anything to be honest and that makes me sad.

I'm determined to get back to myself somehow. Writing this entry has taken the most concentration I've given in ages. I've got the radio on in the background and I've had to tell myself off half a dozen times for trying to turn it off. The most important thing for me though is that I've got a smile on my face. It's just keeping it there that's tricky...

Down but not out!

Well what a day...

Health visitor came today. Not seen her for two months and we had a lot to catch up on. OH was there for part of it which was nice as his shifts mean he rarely has chance to get involved with things like this. Everything is great with little man. He's growing and gaining weight steadily. Have some small concerns about his left hand and his eye but getting both of them checked out so that's fine.

Had a good chat about my anxiety attacks and she wonders if I'm experiencing "fight or flight" symptoms. Makes a lot of sense because when things get too much I just want to run away. I asked for her thoughts about what I should do regarding my so called happy pills as I don't think they've made the slightest difference and she suggested I ask my Dr about cognitive therapy to try and tackle the problems head on.

She got me to retake my pnd assesment that I first did when he was 6 weeks old. It's one of those questionnaires where you have to circle the best response to a particular statement relating to how you have felt in the last week. The first time I did it I scored 18 (the higher the score, the more likely it is you have pnd) today I scored 21!!!! Seriousy has there been any actual point to me chucking pills down my neck for the last few months!!!

If there is a positive to this is that its made me more determined to get well and get functioning again. I don't want to be a prisoner in my own house. I don't want my son to miss out because I cant handle the world. I don't want my relationship to suffer because the thought of going out for something to eat as a family makes me feel sick. I just want to be me again. Hope I can find the way.

Been a rough few weeks.

Weirdly I've found it harder to write this post than I did the first one.

I'm calm and relaxed now but I've been having anxiety attacks lately. Had a really bad one two weeks ago in town. Was there with my other half, his Mum and of course my little man. The idea was to go for some lunch but the sun had made a brief appearance so everywhere was packed. We had all stuck together until OH went off to argos and M-I-L had popped into Boots. I thought I'd be brave and wait outside as the smell of all the perfume was giving me a headache and anyway, both of them were to take no longer than 5 mins. Sadly I was stood outside for longer - not sure how much but it felt like an hour - and there was just a constant surge of people. I started to panic. I felt sick, started going dizzy and at one point felt myself welling up. No one was answering their phone and if OH hadn't've come back when he did there is a strong possibility I would have left the pram and run away. I hate myself for that.

I've had a few more episodes but that was the worst. I decided a week away at my parents might do me some good - show little man off and catch up with the family. I'm from a small town and thought I'd just be able to chill but no!!! Little man gets chicken pox... Not only was he really poorly with it bless him but I couldn't visit anyone as he was so contagious so my nice stress free week went out the window. I've spoken to my Dr and her solution is to change my happy pills as apparently the ones I've been on since I was diagnosed can increase stress levels(!)

Thankfully he's all recovered - just a few scabs to heal so I can try and focus on getting myself sorted. I'm meant to be due back at work in 3 months and at the moment I don't think I'll cope. There'll be a solution out there - just got to find it.

That's all for now - hopefully my next post will be a little happier...

Where to begin...

Hey everyone :-)

Never written a blog before but I was inspired to take the plunge after reading a very brave and personal post by a friend of mine. I thought to myself if she was brave enough to share her life then I really have no excuse.

My main reason for reaching out this way is that I have been diagnosed with post-natal depression and I find it hard to open up to friends and family about how I feel. I'd've probably been ok with just plodding along had it not been for a conversation I had earlier this week. I had called in to work with my little man to say hi and try and figure out my options for going back to work (which I don't want to do by the way) when after telling a friend about my pnd she asked me if that meant I didn't love my son.....

It's clear that post-natal depression is something of a taboo subject. Everyone has heard of it but not many people know what it is. I can only speak about my own experiences but I would like to emphatically state that I love my son more than I thought I was capable of loving anyone. He lights up my world every single day and I can't wait to see what he learns and how he grows.

I think my experience is more to do with how I feel about myself. I've always been a pessimist with low self esteem and high insecurities and it's hard to convince myself I'm capable of looking after my little man and can provide him with everything he needs. I'm very reluctant to leave the house with him unless we have a specific purpose such as doctors appointments and I count it down until I can get back inside. I spend most of my days with the blinds closed and ignore the phone or any knocks at the door when I can. I hate myself for doing it because it isn't fair to him - it probably isn't fair to me either but I've never made myself a priority. He's such a happy, sociable boy of 17 weeks and I need to work on making myself a stronger person.

Well I feel a little better for just getting this off my chest even if no one ever reads this. I have a beautiful son and need to do my best to be the best mother I can be but I'll always have a voice in my head telling me I'm no good. At the moment it shouts in my ear but one day it might turn into a whisper...