What not to say

Pretty personal, but maybe someone can help.

After the birth of my child, which, to put it mildly, demanding, I had a hell of postpartum depression. I then realized. And before that I was trying to be superwoman. One from 8 to 20, respusha, hungry, with a constantly screaming baby, not to come out. Op, I do not stand. The child was shaking with anger and frustration. I actually have had thoughts on the subject, what I could do to stop it, and if you eject from the window, will it hurt.

My timid attempts with someone to share the husband replied, "well give her to an orphanage, if you can't!", and the other said "snap out of it! you happy woman sitting at home with the baby!", and I wept with envy when her husband left for work. Imagine how he drives, listens to music, buys a scone in the metro, pours himself coffee at work, and sobbed. And the child sobbed.





To four months it got better. I did it, I come out, I thought! But then my husband, my pillar of iron, successfully converge to the bachelor party and broke his collarbone. I was again left, in fact, one for 2 months.

Collarbone healed, and then we moved to another country. And welcomed into this event turned out to me stress, all kinds of difficulties, of loneliness.
Anyway, I stuck most anywhere. At some point I realized that I eat just because the plate is, and have to eat. And appetite and pleasure are already long gone. And generally anything fun no. From home and go somewhere does not help – only worse, traveling does not help, sex as in that joke about the fly on the ceiling. My husband constant quarrels with tantrums, regular thoughts about divorce, bad marriage than I ever thought. Had some force to comb my hair literally.

In the end my husband caught on (quickly, isn't it?), when I after another scandal was sitting on the couch, staring at one spot and rocked back and forth. By the way, I don't even remember. Sofa remember what swayed –no.

Got me to a therapist to begin with — to navigate where to go next. Dragged for me, because I'm superwoman and can't tell the doctor that I was somehow morally wrong, nonsense specialist to distraction. Everyone knows that the recipe for this one — get yourself together, go for a manicure to unwind, do not toil foolishness. But I still came.
Imagine helped me. Listened, prescribed a course of treatment. Truly, as from the real disease, not the dope, which I toil from idleness!

And I treated, AND MY LIFE has BLOSSOMED!!! It's like the faucet turned off. Left discontent, apathy, constant frustration, and the husband again became a favorite, and my marriage is not what happened five years ago, the dizziness of the brain, and the baby rug rat that I stone are drawn to the bottom. And even to dinner with his girlfriend want to go. In a beautiful place and a beautiful dress. After the manicure.

So, what I'm getting at. If you need help, ask for it to a professional. It's not so bad as to leave the child with an inadequate mother, and to understand that this inadequate mother you are.

My course of treatment until one month, the doctor said that this should be sufficient. Just a month after a year and a half in the dark and negative!

And all these "suck it up" you just have to block, as an attempt of psychological abuse. Depression is a disease, it should be treated, and don't scrape the latest resource to "gather".published

 

Author Natalia Gorelik

 

P. S. And remember, just changing your mind — together we change the world! ©

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