Postpartum Depression

I started my period last week.

It has been 19 months since I last menstruated, between being pregnant and nursing.

I knew I was depressed.  Really, really depressed.  I knew that postpartum hormones were, in part, to blame.

Other factors contributed: lack of sleep (always a big one for me), life's normal ups and downs, anxiety and depression as a part of my normal existence, loneliness, and Satan.

There were moments I felt frightened because of the thoughts in my head.  I felt like it would never end; that the deep depression was here to stay.  All of my negative thoughts and feelings were magnified tenfold.

I am grateful for the kind people who listened to my pain:

First, and foremost, my husband.  He was always there for me, even though I'm sure he didn't understand it.  He reminded me, over and over, that he knew who I really was beneath the sludge of depression.

Second, my mom and my sister.  They know me.  They understand me.  They have lifted me with their words and love.

Third, my friends A. and J.  Each, in her own way, listened without judging.  Each threw out life preservers at times when I needed it the most.  They checked in with me often, and they distracted me regularly.

With my hormones seemingly returning to normal, I feel like myself again.  The fog has lifted, and I remember now who I really am.  That wasn't me.

When it's time to do this all over again, I will get counseling before the depression settles in to make a home in my brain.