In Search Of Perfection: My Depression Story

If there is one thing that defines mothers it is often their pursuit to provide the best for their children. I do not mean this materially, necessarily, but more in general. We want to give them the best of ourselves, our time and our abilities to equip them for the future so that they can become the best version of themselves.

For those of us with more driven personalities this can mean throwing a huge amount of energy into focusing on our children, making sure that we are the ‘perfect’ mum, and in the end we leave ourselves open to disappointment and despondency.

Like many of the choleric temperament, I am a very determined and competent person. I don’t like to ask for help or like to admit any vulnerability. I will give anything a shot and you can rely on me to put in over 100% effort. I am also prone to take on too many projects – all of which are worthy – and try to spread myself unrealistically across them all.

This was OK for a while, early on in my marriage and my experience as a mother, but eventually I hit a brick wall. At the time I didn’t see it coming. All I saw were the external events: my mother’s stroke on Christmas Eve, my 42 week pregnancy ending in a traumatic birth experience and a baby born at over 10 pounds who started exhibiting health issues – later discovered to be food allergies – at 4 months.

To every one else I was the picture of the capable wife and mother. My toddler was happy and healthy, the baby slept through the night from 8 weeks and was a good feeder. Even my husband thought I was doing really well – because that was all I would let him see.

The truth was I was operating on autopilot. I felt alienated, alone and I was constantly irritable. I found no enjoyment in things I had always loved doing and life had a distinct feeling of monotony about it. I dreaded leaving the house to go into social situations and I was guarded about what I would say in regards to how I was going.

It took me four months, and a very low period, to find out what was wrong with me. It took nothing more than looking at Kaz Cooke’s book ‘kid wrangling‘ and finding that my symptoms were attributed to postnatal depression.

I felt relieved, almost. Because the thing about depression is that you don’t really want people to know that you are depressed because of the stigma. You don’t want people to judge you, or worse, feel pity for you. I couldn’t even tell my husband I thought I was depressed, I just opened the book one evening, found the page and said ‘I think I have this.’

He was pretty floored. But he was very supportive and encouraged me to see the GP, taking the day off work to come with me, and seek her advice as to where to go from there. I ended up working through some cognitive exercises through Beyond Blue and Mood Gym, working with a priest to help me prayerfully navigate my way through my emotions, and I saw a counsellor regularly for the next six months and by the time my baby was eleven months old, I was given the all clear.

I must admit that time was not pretty. The first two sessions with the counsellor, and the priest, I spent balling my eyes out. Most of that time is a blur to me, I don’t remember much of what happened that year. But eventually I came to recognise what my triggers were. Stress, over work and the emotional turmoil of those couple of months were all part of it, but also the ongoing pressures that I put on myself. I was forced to reassess who I was and what my focus should be. This meant scaling back my commitments and regularly taking time out for me to re-energise. I learned to say no, which I’m still not good at, and to discuss with my husband any big projects before I get underway.

I have not suffered from depression since 2010 even though I have had another child, and am expecting another now. I can recognise my triggers and make changes when I feel as though life is getting on top of me.

This might all sound simple, but as mums we all have our pressures and we often have to cope on interrupted sleep and nurture dependant children. But we have to remember that if we are not functioning properly emotionally and mentally how can we love our spouse and children effectively? We might be encouraged to give until it hurts – but it should never hurt our sanity.

Here’s what I have learned:

Your spouse and children are more important than anything else – but to really love them you have to look after yourself too
You need to take time out for you
Your husband and your kids will still love you if the house is a mess
Happy children are more important than a clean house
30mins of time to yourself every day is so liberating
Laughing and being silly with your children is therapeutic, and good for everyone
You will never get back this time with your children
Limiting exposure to negative influences, including family, is important
Saying NO does not mean you’re letting some one down
Asking for help does not mean you are weak
There is life after depression