What if they don't become happy adults?
What if they don't have healthy friendships?
What if their teachers are upset with them?
What if their teachers are upset with me?
What if people blame me for their messy hair?
What if....What if....What if.....
Developing as a mother over the course of the last 10 years has been both a challenge and a blessing. When I first imagined being a mom I imagined giving birth, then BOOM, I was a mom and I would either be a good mom or a not-so-good mom. I didn't realize that parenting was a development process just like almost every other major role in my life, and I didn't forsee the barriers that would come that would impact this development.
And developing was not that easy for me. I hid my stress pretty easily (at least I think I did, who knows!). But when I had four kids under the age of 4 years old, had a full-time job, and working my way through my Ph.D., I felt anything but calm, cool, and collected. The pressures of being the magazine-perfect mom were enourmous and I could feel the weight of the pressure crushing on top of me, making me feel smaller and smaller. I was a woman (I AM STILL a woman, for anyone wondering where I was going after that sentence). Because I was a woman, shouldn't being a mom be easy and natural?
Instead, I found myself wrapped up and riddled with stress and guilt that cycled around in the most unhealthy of ways.
Last fall, I hit the bottom. Tears streamed down my face in front of my newly-appointed nurse practitioner as I explained to her how I was feeling. Dark. Stressed. Depressed. Not Good Enough. I felt I was failing and I couldn't admit it to anyone. My head physically felt like there was a constant weight, and my heart felt like it could explode in a million pieces at any minute. And the CHEWING! Dear goodness, the CHEWING! Stop eating next to me! The littlest of things that wouldn't bother a "normal" person were sending me way over the edge in a way that I couldn't control.
My nurse practioner talked to me about depression. Yes, I met almost every risk-indicator, but I couldn't be depressed. How could a person who was naturally energetic, and let's face it, SUPER freakin' hilarious, be depressed?? But we talked. And she was right. I was. I was so disappointed in myself. I felt like I had let everyone down.
And then I told myself to stop being a hypocrite. I talk constantly with my students about the realities of mental health. And that it need not be a taboo topic. And that individuals that live with mental health-related disorders should never be made to feel ashamed. Meanwhile, there I was....embarassed of being depressed. Ashamed. What a hypocrite.
So I started the antidepressants that she prescribed, and within a few days I felt the sky was no longer a thick gray. I felt my brain was not weighed down by cinder block. I felt happy. I wasn't annoyed. I noticed how funny my kids were. I noticed how cool my students could be. I noticed fall leaves, coffee smells, and warm blankets again. Depression was covering my senses. It was covering my love, and it was smothering. But the prescription was helping and within a month I was feeling like the Aryn that I personally love.
And then my development as a mother began again. I hugged the kids longer. Played with them more. Laughed at them more than ever. Read to them longer. My patience and grace for them began to stretch in ways that I always thought it should and knew it could. I began to reflect and learn about being a mom again....instead of feeling hurt and defensive of my mistakes, I began to see them as points of growth. I still fail......but I am not selfishly wrapped up in my own failure, I'm letting myself grow.
I don't write this for any type of attention that admitting depression could give. I write this because I hid what I was going through for a long time because I felt ashamed, and the fact is, there is nothing to be ashamed of. What's true is that my brain does work a bit differently and their is an imbalance that is helped by the use of antidepressants. But I'm not ashamed of that, just as I am not ashamed that I wear corrective lenses or need shoes with higher arch supports. Our bodies were not made to be perfect and stay perfect, so to think that my brain should be any different than any other part of my body is simply unreasonable. So I write this because there could be other moms out there that struggle....and you should know that you shouldn't be ashamed or upset with yourself. It is what it is, and embrace who you are. You are enough.
Thank you for sharing, Aryn. Be as kind to yourself as you are to others. Miss you!
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