Lj idol : Recency Bias
Too many people don't understand the language of lost weight, the language of hollow eyes and insomnia, the language of red marks on pale skin.
Maybe it's because I have never needed. Maybe it's because I have always seemed so sure of myself. Maybe it's because being a counselor people assume I will tell them when I am not okay, or assume I am capable of handling my own mental anguish.
"Look how skinny you are! Must be nice to have a baby and end up skinnier than you were before becoming pregnant."
No actually it's not.
"You look as tired as I feel."
Gee, thanks.
There are things that are too hard to say. There are things I don't know how to admit to. There are things you live through, and can only talk about once you've reached the other side. Once you realize, I survived.
When I scratched my arms, what I was trying to say, what I wanted them to say for me is, "Don't you see what I have to do to myself just so that I won't do something worse?"
And you say, "I don't even know you anymore."
Yeah, well, I don't even know me anymore.
Soon after I had my baby, Kristin took my hand, and said "If you ever need to talk, call me." The way her eyes looked, the sound of her voice, it felt different. Like she was trying to tell me something important, like there was a hidden message that I didn't understand.
Until I thought I did. And I called her up and asked her, "Were you ever depressed after you had your son?"
During the conversation she told me, "I use to think about hurting him all the time, have you ever felt like that?" And I answered honestly. I couldn't imagine thinking such a thing.
But if anyone had asked me that question a few months later, I would have had a different answer.
I didn't go to therapy for post partum depression. I tell people that I did, but it's a lie. I went for completely different reasons. I didn't think I had post partum depression at all. I thought there was something wrong with my husband, my marriage. I thought it was his fault I was getting so crazy. So angry. I thought this might be the end of my marriage. As if the last few months of turmoil, of fighting, erased everything that came before.
But Nadia, the therapist, she saw something. She saw something in the way I looked, or the way I spoke. She understood the language my body was speaking. And that very first day, when I was done complaining about everything he did to make me angry, she asked me a simple question. She asked me a question that I will never forget.
"What do you think of yourself as a mother?"
I looked at her blankly, barely even understanding the question. I had no answer.
She asked me, "What do you think of your worth as a mother?"
And I answered "I don't know, I don't really think I have any."
And I will never forget, the look on her face, kind and loving, gentle and knowing. She smiled warmly, and said, "How can that be Heather? How can you have no worth as a mother?"
And I started to cry.
Sometimes I think post partum depression isn't just a chemical imbalance. It isn't just something that happens because your hormones are mixed up. It happens because your entire world is thrown into chaos. Because your entire life changes so dramatically that there is no way to be prepared for it. And it takes more energy, and skill, and patience, and determination, and luck, and help, and time, and resources than you ever thought possible. And sometimes it takes every single moment of every single waking hour to convince yourself to keep trying even though you are convinced you are failing.
And sometimes it takes the right person to ask the right question at the right moment. Sometimes it takes someone who can see what it is you don't even know that you're not saying.
Postscript
My son is now 7 and my husband and I are still together. Sometimes what you think is the end, is simply the beginning of something new. Sometimes you just need someone else to help you see that.
Maybe it's because I have never needed. Maybe it's because I have always seemed so sure of myself. Maybe it's because being a counselor people assume I will tell them when I am not okay, or assume I am capable of handling my own mental anguish.
"Look how skinny you are! Must be nice to have a baby and end up skinnier than you were before becoming pregnant."
No actually it's not.
"You look as tired as I feel."
Gee, thanks.
There are things that are too hard to say. There are things I don't know how to admit to. There are things you live through, and can only talk about once you've reached the other side. Once you realize, I survived.
When I scratched my arms, what I was trying to say, what I wanted them to say for me is, "Don't you see what I have to do to myself just so that I won't do something worse?"
And you say, "I don't even know you anymore."
Yeah, well, I don't even know me anymore.
Soon after I had my baby, Kristin took my hand, and said "If you ever need to talk, call me." The way her eyes looked, the sound of her voice, it felt different. Like she was trying to tell me something important, like there was a hidden message that I didn't understand.
Until I thought I did. And I called her up and asked her, "Were you ever depressed after you had your son?"
During the conversation she told me, "I use to think about hurting him all the time, have you ever felt like that?" And I answered honestly. I couldn't imagine thinking such a thing.
But if anyone had asked me that question a few months later, I would have had a different answer.
I didn't go to therapy for post partum depression. I tell people that I did, but it's a lie. I went for completely different reasons. I didn't think I had post partum depression at all. I thought there was something wrong with my husband, my marriage. I thought it was his fault I was getting so crazy. So angry. I thought this might be the end of my marriage. As if the last few months of turmoil, of fighting, erased everything that came before.
But Nadia, the therapist, she saw something. She saw something in the way I looked, or the way I spoke. She understood the language my body was speaking. And that very first day, when I was done complaining about everything he did to make me angry, she asked me a simple question. She asked me a question that I will never forget.
"What do you think of yourself as a mother?"
I looked at her blankly, barely even understanding the question. I had no answer.
She asked me, "What do you think of your worth as a mother?"
And I answered "I don't know, I don't really think I have any."
And I will never forget, the look on her face, kind and loving, gentle and knowing. She smiled warmly, and said, "How can that be Heather? How can you have no worth as a mother?"
And I started to cry.
Sometimes I think post partum depression isn't just a chemical imbalance. It isn't just something that happens because your hormones are mixed up. It happens because your entire world is thrown into chaos. Because your entire life changes so dramatically that there is no way to be prepared for it. And it takes more energy, and skill, and patience, and determination, and luck, and help, and time, and resources than you ever thought possible. And sometimes it takes every single moment of every single waking hour to convince yourself to keep trying even though you are convinced you are failing.
And sometimes it takes the right person to ask the right question at the right moment. Sometimes it takes someone who can see what it is you don't even know that you're not saying.
Postscript
My son is now 7 and my husband and I are still together. Sometimes what you think is the end, is simply the beginning of something new. Sometimes you just need someone else to help you see that.