Depression is a big, fat, ugly beast

I've had a history of depression and anxiety so I expected post-partum to be hard. I'd seen friends and family go through the sleep deprivation and constant pressures of being a new mom, and I tried to go into this whole motherhood thing with a realistic outlook that it would be tough.

And for the most part that preparation helped. Those first few weeks WERE exhausting, but I was surprised by how equally wonderful they were. Yeah, I was sleep deprived and stressed beyond belief that it was now my responsibility to take care of this tiny miracle. But somehow all the hard stuff was trumped by just that, the fact that this little guy truly is a living miracle (if babies aren't proof enough that there's a God, I don't know what would be!).

Unfortunately, it seems like whenever I start to feel like life is smooth sailing, a storm sneaks in and messes up the sunny skies. It's not like anything "bad" has happened lately, in fact I feel guilty even saying that because all-in-all life has been pretty darn great...I have a beautiful kid, one heck of a husband, a warm place to live, plenty of good food to eat, and compared to the hardships so many in this world endure my life is a cakewalk (I know, no need to compare because all our trials are different, but still, things COULD be much worse).

I'm just frustrated because according to MY timetable postpartum was supposed to hit at say, 2 weeks, maybe get a little worse for a couple weeks, then progressively get better and by 3 months I'd be one happy mama! But life rarely, if ever, goes according to my timetable. I'm just about hitting that 3 month mark and I feel like the last couple of weeks have been the hardest yet. It's like I know I'm being ridiculously hard on myself and somewhat (ok maybe completely) irrational, yet the crazy side seems to have more say than the sensible side.

For instance, yesterday I taught the Relief Society lesson in church. I stressed and worked so hard to prepare, and even though I was teaching on missionary work (which is totally intimidating in and of itself seeing that I have little experience in that arena) I felt like it would be an OK lesson. Like not bore everyone to death, make them want to pull their hair out ok. But then, literally 2 minutes before the class started, a completely well-intentioned lady came up to me and said, "Now, please don't be offended, but I overheard someone saying that it's really distracting when you chew gum while you're teaching..." I think she must have said something else after that but being the hyper-sensitive person that I am I pretty much shut down, got all sweaty and choked up and was pretty sure I'd bawl through the entire lesson. Somehow I was able to pull it together and I *think* the lesson was bearable, but I booked it outta there right after so I could go have a pitty-party at home.

I kept asking myself why I was so upset, I mean it's just gum! And wouldn't I rather have someone give me a little constructive criticism than continue doing something that bothered people? I think my problem is that I read so far between the lines that "you might want to spit out your gum" becomes "no one likes you, your lessons stink, people are always talking about you behind your back, why do you try so hard when you're just goin to fail..." you get the picture.

I think I'm already over the gum thing (it's amazing what a watershed of tears and a supportive husband can do!), but if it's not the gum, it's something else. My messy house means I'm lazy and unmotivated. The fact that my baby likes to be wide awake from 2 am to 4 am (believe me, we're trying it all) means I'm an incompetent mother. Even the fact that I've been more depressed lately means I'm doing something wrong.

I hate to be such a downer, I'm a firm believer that negativity begets negativity and I'm really trying to be positive. We all feel depressed at times, and usually with a little effort (like the 4 natural ways to fight the blues--exercise, sunlight, good sleep, and healthy nutrition) things get better. Sometimes it just takes time. But it's hard when all those efforts don't seem to help. In fact, some days I find the harder I try, the worse I feel. Yet I know that eventually I WILL feel better and if I get in the habit of doing those healthy coping things now, the payoff will be worth it in the long run.

So if you see me out running (exercise) in the sun (light) with my eyes half-closed (sleep) while chewing on a stick of celery (nutrition), don't think I'm crazy...I'm just taking this big beast on in full force!