Thank you, thank you, thank you, to London for starting this thread. How very brave of you! Thank you to all the ladies brave enough to share as well. You have inspired me. I have been struggling for a while now and i'm thinking that perhaps if I post in here and put all the feelings out there, somehow, it will make it just a little bit better... So here goes...
When DD was born my world turned upside down. I had this beautiful little baby that my heart ached for and I found it very difficult to deal with that feeling alone. We had a few rough nights in hospital where she cried all night, wanted to feed all night etc etc. We got home and I was releived but I was terrified. I literally had no idea what to do next. The next few weeks just flew by in a haze of sleep deprevation and utter exhaustion. I struggle to actually remember a lot of it. I was doing ok in the beginning and then it hit me. Like a freight train. I wasn't sleeping, I was barely eating and I was not coping. My baby would scream all the time. She wouldn't sleep. She would start at 4pm and would not stop screaming until maybe 3 or 4am when my DP would take her driving in the car just to get her to sleep.
I had so much anxiety at the time that I cried and panicked when she was sleeping in another room. As exhausted as I was, when DP would take her for a drive to get her to sleep I would insit on coming instead of sleeping because I just counldn't bear the guilt of being away from her.
3 months in and my anxiety and anger had peaked. I had experienced times when I would be screaming and crying myself, while holding and desperatley trying to calm and sooth my screaming and crying baby, my DP would try to take her from me to help and I would scream at him and tell him to eff off. I felt so scared that he would do a better job at calming her then me and I would be relevealed as the failure of a parent that I truely was.
One night, while trying to get DD to sleep, she screamed and screamed for hours and I eventually roughly placed her in the cot, screamed at her to go to sleep, walked out and punched a hole in my wall. I was blinded by rage. I then sat in the shower and sobbed for hours. My DP took me to the dr the next day and I was diagnosed with PND, medicated and admited to a sleep school to help with the baby. After much hard work there was light at the end of the tunnel. My baby started sleeping better, she got into a routine and I started to recover.
I have suffered anxiety and depression for most of my life now but that particular time was the darkest place I've ever been. What is scary is that nearly 2 years on, it is happening again. I played with the idea of having another baby, tried and failed for a few months and it has sent me over the edge again. I am back on my medication and barely coping. My DD is nearly 2 now and she is full on. Such a handful. Everyday I feel like a failure. I hear myself yell, and sometimes smack out of sheer frustration and I hate myself for it. I am not the parent I want to be and i'm so scared because I don't know how to change it. I don't think my medication is working. Everyday is a struggle.
Anyway, thats me and my craziness in a nutshell. I feel so ashamed of the way I am but sharing it out loud might feel like a weight of my shoulders... I guess we will see.