Reality Bites

The thing about having a generalized anxiety disorder while simultaneously having a somewhat obsessive personality, is that you tend to know yourself and your anxiety pretty well by the time you are in your 30's... Or at least me and the people I know who are also living with anxiety seem to have a pretty good handle on it. To put it succinctly, I know myself, I know what an anxiety attack feels like. I know my anxiety "triggers". I even know when an anxiety attack is about to start, which is great because I can generally "head it off at the pass" so to speak, and prevent myself from having a full blown attack. I have a toolkit of various methods that I utilize to keep my anxiety in check. But I also know that sometimes, despite my best efforts to take care of myself, I'm going to go through rough patches. Sometimes that rough patch is having waves of general feelings of anxiety, sometimes it's a lack of energy, and sometimes it's depression. Usually big life events or changes tend to hit  me a little harder than they seem to hit other people, and they take me a little longer to bounce back. But it's been a long time since any of that has impacted my day to day life overall.

Knowing all of this is why I know that people in my particular situation are more susceptible to postpartum mood disorders such as Postpartum Depression (PPD), or Postpartum Anxiety (PPA). I was prepared for this. I was actually fully expecting to have to begin counseling again once Ahsoka was born. When my cat Stewie died two months before my daughter was due to arrive, I felt like it was almost set in stone because losing Stewie was (and still is) extremely hard on me.

After Ahsoka was born, my sisters came to visit, and it was amazing. My husband's mother came to visit us regularly, and was an immense help around the house. The combination of winter and nursing a newborn had me in full on hermit mode, but that too didn't seem to differ much from other moms I knew who had babies around the same time. I tend to become a hermit every winter anyways. Life was good.

I have read many articles about what women go through when they are experiencing or have experienced PPD and/or PPA, and I am simply unable to understand their plight. Women experiencing PPD and PPA talk about feeling disconnected from their children. Whereas I feel spiritually connected to my daughter in a way I could never have predicted.

I didn't seem to have any of the telltale symptoms of either PPD or PPA. Despite all of the issues we had with her weight gain (she's caught up now), and my own slow to heal issues (I'm fine now), I was so happy and grateful to have Ahsoka in my life. Aside from anxiety around Ahsoka's weight gain, which resolved itself once we finally figured everything out, I felt great mentally. I was exhausted, sleep deprived, I would still (and still do) cry about Stewie from time to time, but I wasn't having any full on anxiety attacks. I was less anxious overall than when I was pregnant. It's like Ahsoka and I were living in a blissful bubble outside of reality.

Then I returned to work a few weeks ago... While my anxiety still seems to be in check, I've been incredibly depressed. The first week I took my daughter to daycare, I was fortunate enough to be able to work from home the entire week. Fortunate because I cried every day until I was able to pick her up. I'm no longer crying nonstop when she's not around, but I feel like I'm walking around without a piece of my heart. I'm spending the latter half of the day counting the minutes until I get to see my daughter again. I'm having an awful time keeping motivated in my job responsibilities. And I absolutely hate breast pumping multiple times a day. I want to continue breastfeeding, so I will continue to pump so that she has milk for each day at daycare, but I hate this entire process.

I never thought I would long to be a stay at home mom. Part of me was looking forward to returning to work to get a little more structure back to my day. I worked really hard to get where I'm at in my career, and I thought that sentiment was enough to put me in a good place mentally upon my return to work. But when the day came to return to work, I was a mess. I woke up that morning, held my daughter while she slept, and just cried. I still don't feel like myself. I put off getting out of bed in the morning because I know the second we start our day, I'm going to have to leave Ahsoka with a stranger for the day (a very nice stranger who I'm glad we found, but still someone who is not me).

I wish we could afford for me to be a stay at home mom, or for me to at least work some cushy part time job where I could work out of my home with Ahsoka at my side, or only be away from her for only a few hours each day instead of 8 - 10 hours a day during the week (longer when my company hits our busy season this Fall). I miss being in our blissful mommy and baby bubble all day. Being with Ahsoka full-time was hard, harder than any day job I've ever had. But it was so rewarding; more rewarding than anything I've ever experienced in my life.

I'm sure all of this will get easier with time... at least, that's what people tell me, and that's what I keep telling myself. But I can't seem to logic my way out of this awful feeling when I'm away from her while I'm at work. And it's not like I've never been away from her. My husband and I have managed a couple of movie dates, and I've been fine. But being at work all day was soul sucking before I had a baby. You see, I'm not passionate about my job (I don't think most people are). I have hobbies that I'm passionate about (I run social media for a geek blog. I'm an admin for a Star Wars fan page on Facebook, I love seeing live music, going to conventions and taking pictures, etc.). But I'm not saving the world at my day job. I'm not even sure how much of what I do is really helping people anymore, which is what used to get me through the day (I work in benefits administration on the back end as a business analyst). I'm a small cog in a giant corporate machine that doesn't care about me or my family. They don't even care enough to pay me the average of what my job title gets paid (at my company or otherwise). And if I left, they would quickly and easily replace me.

But I'm not replaceable as Ahsoka's mom. She's growing and changing so fast, and I will only get to have this experience with her once in my life (and hers). But because of money and bills, I'm missing out. And it's the worst.

As I type and edit this post, tears are streaming down my face. Another Monday morning, and I'm missing my daughter terribly already. Is this really what postpartum depression looks like for me, or is it just the reality of being a working mom? Because this new reality of mine is incredibly depressing.