It Wasn't Postpartum Depression

I thought being a wife would solve all of my problems. My husband would vow to support and love me, and I would be safe. I would instantly be loved and full of joy. But when that didn't happen I looked to having a baby. If I have a baby then I will instantly be full of love. But that didn't happen either. I thought these life experiences would fill a void within me and when they didn't, I felt more helpless then ever.

When my baby would cry I would feel like my body was being torn in half. Every tear shed was a testimony to my failure as a mother and an expression of why I didn't deserve love. My inner pain was unbearable. To deal with this my brain would give me flashes of me stabbing myself or walking into traffic. This was how my mind was dealing with the intense internal pain, by giving me a physical way to feel it. The thoughts frightened me, the pull to do them was real.

As years passed some times were better than others. But every day I struggled with yelling in frustration at those I loved. A suggestion on how to improve dinner, a child forgetting their homework, or seeing a dirty bathroom all were registered as further proof of my failure as a wife, mother and person. Feeling like a failure brought pain, then anger to cover the pain and then guilt for my angry outbursts. It was never ending, and excruciating.

It wasn't until I realized one day, in group therapy, that the feeling of being worthless, a failure and unlovable goes back to my childhood and rape. I found an article linking postpartum depression and abuse, although for me I knew this was more than postpartum depression. A child telling me that I forgot to wash their uniform would bring a feeling of helplessness and failure that I had experienced before. And in my haste to stop the feeling I would angrily shout saying they should have reminded me sooner. Blaming them for what was my mistake. Hurting them for pointing out something that I "failed" at.

Things for me didn't really click into place until I was diagnosed with PTSD and I realized that in order for me to be happy in the present I needed to deal with the past. Being raped at 18 has a direct impact on my feelings as a wife and mother now. It's all connected. And as I have started to work on the memories through EMDR therapy and with medication, I can see a huge change in my life. I have gone days without yelling at my kids. It's no longer a defense mechanism, I don't need to protect myself from their tears or frustrations. I have learned that those are their feelings, not mine. My job as a mom is to help them through their experiences, not to prevent them from happening. If they cry it's because they are sad right then, and need my help. It's not because I'm a failure.

I have also learned that I feel the love of others after I learn to love myself. If I don't feel worthy of their love, it doesn't matter how hard they try, I wont let myself feel it. I've had to learn that I'm not perfect, I am who I am right now and that's okay. I'm what God made me and with His help I can always be better.