Jenga

I’ve been playing a bit of mental health Jenga lately. I was cheating a little bit, though – putting on more blocks than I was taking out. A whole bunch of them on top of my tower were making it feel really strong: seeing a counsellor, finding ways to get more sleep, this blog, supportive friends and family, the supportive community I’m finding on Twitter. I didn’t get to totally rig the game, though. There were blocks coming out that make things a bit tough – people who seem to not really understand, trying to exercise and eat better but not really doing all that well with it.

Then last night the wrong block came out and my tower crashed. But I’ve got all the pieces though – at least I think I do. I just have to pick them back up again and try to rebuild that tower.

The Question of Sleep

I’m going to leave aside the blog name for a moment because right now I don’t actually give a shit what this blog is called. Though, to be honest, “Rage Against the Baby” is seeming apt.

I haven’t told you the whole epic sleep story but for now suffice to say my kid doesn’t sleep well. This was a major fear of mine going into parenthood, and I actually had no idea how bad it would be. There are theories about what causes someone to get postpartum depression, from chemistry to genetics to a birth experience that didn’t go as you’d have wished and so on. I think genetics plays a part for me, but I honestly think the major culprit for me is sleep. I just do not cope when I’m overtired.

Today was one of those days.

I didn’t sleep at all well on Saturday night or last night when I was on monitor duty. (My husband and I alternate nights so we only have to get up every other night.) On Saturday a series of four wake-up freak-outs in a row had me waving the white flag and allowing a wiggling child to sleep with me. Just didn’t want to deal with it all night. He slept. Me? Not so much.

Last night he was up over and over again until 5:30 at which time I gave up and brought him in with me. This is usually a sanity-preserving strategy rather than one designed to get me more sleep, because I generally can’t fall asleep again at that time of the morning. But today he did his usual wiggle, settled down and I crashed.

I know. Tell me that bringing him into bed with me is just prolonging the problem. Tell me that I haven’t been strict enough, or consistent enough, or whatever enough in the middle of the night and that’s why he’s a crappy sleeper. Trust me, I know. When I’m not tired (well, relatively speaking) I am much better at this. But when I’m tired, and especially when it’s been going on for weeks and weeks despite taking a consistent approach, I just do not have the strength.

Problem is, it actually doesn’t help the big picture either. I think this progression of tweets from today sums it up quite nicely.

First thing this morning, the tired tweet:

screenshot of tweet

 

 

Alone in my quiet office when I still have a sense of humour:

screen-shot-2011-01-11-at-8-38-24-pm1

Home. Following disagreement with my husband about potty training and two meltdowns from the kid:

screen-shot-2011-01-11-at-8-38-38-pm1

 

 

 

And finally, how I always seem to let this ruin my day:

screen-shot-2011-01-11-at-8-38-56-pm1

 

 

 

I did choose to hit ‘publish’ on this, obviously, because my question is this: WHY? Why is this so hard sometimes? All of it. I have no idea really why this kid doesn’t sleep better. He’s had good stretches in the past but overall he’s been a nightmare. I also have no idea why this makes such a huge difference to how well I can, or can’t, cope. Noticing this, acknowledging it, realizing it’s temporary – all of those things sometimes help me to cope in the moment and just do the mama stuff I need to do and then go to sleep. But on days like today, it doesn’t matter. Rage wins and my white flag comes out.

Why?

New Resource: Daily Hope

If you’re not already aware of Postpartum Progress you really should be. Fabulous site. Katherine Stone provides a ton of resources and truly empathic support for people dealing with postpartum depression or related illnesses. She’s just started a new service where you can sign up for a daily email with some inspiration and encouragement.

Don’t click away just yet. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve subscribed to daily emails in the past and then fairly quickly unsubscribed. It’s usually too much. But one of the things I’ve learned from this blog is that taking the time to focus on this issue – and therefore focus on myself and my sanity – is helping, and it’s really important. So give it a try. Emails start January 17, and I’m betting there will be some gems in there that will speak to that part of you that no one else seems to understand.

Paranoid Poll: Changing Blog Name

The other day one of my posts was featured on Warrior Moms of the Week on Postpartum Progress. It was listed as MamaRobinJ at Rage Against the Baby, which was actually the name of the post rather than the name of the blog. But I kind of like it.

I’m tempted to change the name of my blog to “Rage Against the Baby” but I have this vision of my son growing up and needing therapy because of it. It fits with my goal of being honest about my experience though.

Please answer the poll and let me know what you think. Would love to hear from others who are more objective.

[polldaddy poll=4362343]

Rage Against the Baby

This month’s Good Housekeeping has an interview with Gwyneth Paltrow where she talks about her experience with postpartum depression.

“I thought postpartum depression meant you were sobbing every single day and incapable of looking after a child,” she’s quoted as saying. “But there are different shades of it and depths of it, which is why I think it’s so important for women to talk about.”

Smart woman, that Gwyneth.

That’s what I thought postpartum depression was, too. Then I read Brooke Shields’s book, which, while heartbreaking, didn’t reflect my experience either (though her experience of being totally detached from your baby sounds like it was similar to what Gwyneth experienced).

My problem was anger. Rage, actually. At best I was impatient, but more often really annoyed. Irritable. And from there I was just a blink away from total rage.

Rage is a horrible thing to experience at the best of times, and downright scary when you have a small baby who’s completely dependent on you. I managed to put him down and walk away when I really needed to, but some days it took every ounce of strength to do that, stand outside his door and breathe long enough to calm down.

I never knew anger and rage was a symptom of depression. Had no idea. I think that’s why I denied the postpartum depression label for so long – because I wasn’t generally what I considered “depressed”.

But it is a symptom, and more common than I realized. So if you or someone you know is experiencing this, ask for help. And remember that it’s okay to talk about it, because you’re not alone.

 

If you’re interested, I wrote more about my experience with postpartum rage.