Depression and Anxiety

I had my baby, a house to unpack and 14 weeks off work. What to do with my time? I thought taking care of a baby would be a breeze. I was so naive. Cooper slept a lot, but I was afraid to sleep when he slept. I was worried that I wouldn't wake up if he needed me. I spent my time unpacking moving boxes (we moved in October 15), watching movies and trying to recover from surgery.

I tried to find constructive ways to fill me time. I wrote thank you notes, started selling Tupperware and cleaning. I was tired all the time, couldn't sleep, couldn't eat and longed for my life before I had a baby. I had gotten a bad cold and my milk supply had dried up. I felt like a failure, because I couldn't feed my baby.
We celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas, which were nice, but I didn't feel right. I was getting cranky and getting upset more easily. I chalked it up to having a new baby and not sleeping well.

In January, I went back to work. It was nice to be out of the house and not take care of a baby for a while. It was right after holiday time, so I was able to ease back into work slowly. After a couple weeks, I wasn't feeling normal. I had trouble concentrating and I felt like a bad mom. I decided to start seeing a therapist. She believed I was developing some post-partum depression. That didn't seem right to me. I wasn't thinking of drowning my child in the bathtub or crying for no reason. I kept seeing her, because I enjoyed talking to somebody.
For the next 6 months I talked to her every week. I had gotten promoted at work and was making more money and I started feeling better, but I still felt off. I woke up one day to get ready for work and couldn't stop crying. I got dressed and felt fat. I put on my make up and felt ugly. I left Paul and the baby, so I could get to work. I cried the entire way to work. I thought about how much of a bad mom I was because I was working instead of staying home with my child. I felt like I had no time for myself. I was constantly taking care of everyone.
I didn't talk to a single person at work that day. I cried at my desk the entire day. When I got home, I laid down and went to sleep. This didn't feel right. I was sad all the time and didn't want to move or talk to anyone. I had terrible thoughts of harming myself or my baby. I didn't enjoy any activities I would do. I wasn't eating and I wasn't getting quality sleep. I was quick to anger and crying. I didn't want to take care of anyone, not even myself.
That Monday, Paul got up and went to work. I was off at day, so I stayed home with Cooper and Paul's daughter. I couldn't get myself out of bed. I just wanted to sleep. Riley wanted to play a game on the XBox and I snapped at her when she asked for permission. Cooper started crying, because he was hungry. I had a complete panic attack. I sent Paul a text saying "I can't handle today." He came home to find me laying in the closet, curled up under a blanket. I don't remember going in there. He decid d to work the rest of the day from home.
After Paul was done with work, we went to the behavioral health hospital. I sat in a room with one of the nurses while she asked me a bunch of questions. She felt that I should be admitted into the psychiatric hospital. I was given a sandwich to eat and a few minutes to say goodbye to Cooper and Paul. I was thenescorted to the psychiatric hospital. I was so scared and unable to process what was going on. After changing into an exam gown, I was looked over by the nurses for any scars, marks and tattoos. They took me to get my vitals taken and supplies for my stay.
I saw so many people and I was nervous. I was given a bed, but I couldn't sleep. I didn't have my phone, book, notebook or anything else to help me fall asleep. There were strange noises and smells. I only slept for about 3 hours. Over the next 4 days, I woke up at 6, took a shower, ate breakfast, group, lunch, group, dinner, group and bed by 10. I was constantly being evaluated and was given medication to help me sleep and deal with my anxiety and depression. Paul and Cooper came to visit on Wednesday. I was able to call Paul and my mom a few times. I found ways to deal with my anxiety and depression And I was starting to feel better. I was discharged on Friday.
On Monday, I started an intensive outpatient parinatal program.  It was like group therapy, but I was able to bring Cooper. I was in that program for 9 weeks (even though it typically is only 4 weeks). I learned to take care of myself and Cooper, how to handle my anxiety and started to feel like a better version of myself.
I am still dealing with depression and anxiety. I have my coping skills and meds to help me. I have a strong support system. That is my story. It's a long one, but I hope it helps you or somebody you know. I'm not perfect. Sometimes I make mistakes as a parent, but I want to share with you what I have learned during my parenting journey. 

I hope you enjoy it!