it can be over now.
I've been ferociously battling postpartum depression. I say "I've been" when I should be saying "we've been" battling. How could something so light-consuming leave everyone it touches shining brightly?
When I am depressed my reactions rage as if I've no fuse at all. Instant explosion. I can remember the shocked look of fear in their faces as I've flipped like an electric-chair switch, yelling. Yelling. I never want to see those faces again.
Then guilt consumes me, for I have so much yet I feel so unhappy. I don't feel worthy to pray for help, so I don't, even though I know the Lord would answer.
This last week, though, something clicked in me. I was wallowing in self-pity, refusing to pray and I did what I can only describe as "snapping out of it." I saw my children growing up into the people they would be if I kept this up. I saw Duke and me, our heavenly marriage turning sour in my continued grief. Those images knocked me to my knees. And then He was there to catch me.
Since then I've hardly been able to leave my children's bedsides at night. I want to be with them as desperately as I wanted to escape. I kiss my husband with passion when he walks through the door, when I would have unlocked it for him and turned, walking away from his embrace. My once cold heart is burning.
And they all forgave me, without hesitation. Duke's heart has been warm for me through my dark hour, only I didn't believe that he could possibly love me that way. The boys graciously accept my kisses and hugs as if I'd never been misery embodied. Baby is none-the-wiser. Children have resilient hearts, and for that I thank God. The only lasting casualty was my hair, which I chopped off in a symbolic cleansing of self, and even that will grow back.
You may be thinking about previous posts and pictures wondering where this sad woman I speak of was hiding. In between posts. There are things that not even the most dedicated blogger dares photograph and share. I've been posting the blessings of a full life but I haven't included my numbness to their grandeur.
Is there an expression more wretchedly grateful than "thank you?" I need deeper words to say to
Duke for never giving up on me.
Mom and dad for rescuing me time and time again.
Siblings for bringing fresh breath to my dying days.
Friends for feeding my confidence with kindness.
Babies for extending your unending trust to your imperfect mother.
Duke again for carrying the burdens I dropped, with my sad self slung over your shoulders.
Heavenly Father for sending the above mentioned to me. For giving me your confidence, kindness, life, trust, help, and saving grace through them. And for breathing peace and power into my soul, taking the slum out of my person.
I have many pictures from the past few weeks that I need to post. But I needed to say this first. It can be over now.
When I am depressed my reactions rage as if I've no fuse at all. Instant explosion. I can remember the shocked look of fear in their faces as I've flipped like an electric-chair switch, yelling. Yelling. I never want to see those faces again.
Then guilt consumes me, for I have so much yet I feel so unhappy. I don't feel worthy to pray for help, so I don't, even though I know the Lord would answer.
This last week, though, something clicked in me. I was wallowing in self-pity, refusing to pray and I did what I can only describe as "snapping out of it." I saw my children growing up into the people they would be if I kept this up. I saw Duke and me, our heavenly marriage turning sour in my continued grief. Those images knocked me to my knees. And then He was there to catch me.
Since then I've hardly been able to leave my children's bedsides at night. I want to be with them as desperately as I wanted to escape. I kiss my husband with passion when he walks through the door, when I would have unlocked it for him and turned, walking away from his embrace. My once cold heart is burning.
And they all forgave me, without hesitation. Duke's heart has been warm for me through my dark hour, only I didn't believe that he could possibly love me that way. The boys graciously accept my kisses and hugs as if I'd never been misery embodied. Baby is none-the-wiser. Children have resilient hearts, and for that I thank God. The only lasting casualty was my hair, which I chopped off in a symbolic cleansing of self, and even that will grow back.
You may be thinking about previous posts and pictures wondering where this sad woman I speak of was hiding. In between posts. There are things that not even the most dedicated blogger dares photograph and share. I've been posting the blessings of a full life but I haven't included my numbness to their grandeur.
Is there an expression more wretchedly grateful than "thank you?" I need deeper words to say to
Duke for never giving up on me.
Mom and dad for rescuing me time and time again.
Siblings for bringing fresh breath to my dying days.
Friends for feeding my confidence with kindness.
Babies for extending your unending trust to your imperfect mother.
Duke again for carrying the burdens I dropped, with my sad self slung over your shoulders.
Heavenly Father for sending the above mentioned to me. For giving me your confidence, kindness, life, trust, help, and saving grace through them. And for breathing peace and power into my soul, taking the slum out of my person.
I have many pictures from the past few weeks that I need to post. But I needed to say this first. It can be over now.
Comments
Thank you for posting this! I've written post after post trying to express the same as you, not brave enough to actually post them. It is so good to know that I'm not alone and that I too can shore up and keep moving on without letting guilt hold me back. I love how you are so forgiving of yourself.
You're a very inspiring person!