When You Can’t Blame PPD Anymore

Post-no-more-baby blues. Tired Mom syndrome. Tired working Mom sydrome. There is nothing else to call it. It’s depression. 

I don’t know why I’ve been saddled with this mental illness that is only treated with medicine. No amount of food elimination diets, yoga, exercise, prayer, or meditation will make it go away. 

I forgot to take my medicine two days in a row and today I cried while putting beans on my chips. Haystacks should not make me cry. Nothing made me cry except my brain chemistry and the fact that I forgot to take my medicine two days in a row. 

In my last post, I mentioned that I broke up with Facebook. This week I deactivated my account. I feel free. I also have missed out on wedding pictures from a wedding I was not invited to, pictures that make me jealous for illogical reasons, and political rants from both sides. 

My Facebook breakup is real and final. I’m reaching out to the people around me to connect in person and catch up IRL or virtually. But now virtually means texting, emailing, chatting online, and a shared iPhoto album. 

My husband and I are going to Kauai on Sunday without our kids. My sister-in-law is due any day with her first child and I am guilt ridden because my in-laws are staying at our house to watch the boys and a variety of complications make it almost impossible for them to leave when the baby arrives while we are away. 

But I am putting my guilt aside. I am choosing to focus on me, my husband, and do a lot of self care in Hawaii, including drinking coffee and reading the newspaper while my coffee is still hot, reading and listening to lots of books, listening to podcasts, lying on the beach, swimming in the pool, watching sunrises and sunsets, taking lots of naps, maybe learning to snorkel, and eating lots of fish and fresh tropical fruit. 

And I’m going to remember to take my medicine.