the misconceptions

it's no secret that the last few months have been inCREDibly hectic. lots of ups and downs, so many things going on, nothing really ever settling down...it's enough to drive someone like me a little bat sh*t crazy.

a few weeks ago, my sister was here in town and despite a great weekend, i was in the midst of a serious dark depression storm. i couldn't shake this horrid way i was feeling and even when doing fun things, i felt slightly "out of it". on friday night, my sister and Charlie went out to Seattle to hang out with one of our cousins. they partied it up and i received lots of interesting drunk texts. i knew i would be on "chub-duty" {as well call it around here} and had been mentally preparing for it all day. i was proactive, or so i thought, and kept with our usual routine: dinner and baths at 8, warm bottles and baby massages and in bed by 9. the night was going well. until it wasn't.

austin didn't want to go to bed. he played and played. he read books and watched tv and played on the ipad. sometime around 12:30am, he passed out. bella woke up around 1am. and she. wouldn't. go. back. to. sleep. normally, it wouldn't bother me. but bella isn't the easiest toddler. austin is able to entertain himself for HOURS with minimal help on my part. bella, on the other hand....nahsomuch.
i had to hold her and rock her. and give her milk. and sing to her. and snuggle her. but none of it is enough. she cried. and cried. AND CRIED. for hours. after the first five or so hours, my patience had run out. i wasn't happy. i was tired, miserable, cranky...my ears were shot. i had had it up to HERE and that point had LONG been gone. i. was. DONE.

i sent a text to charlie {i have no recollection of sending this, really.} essentially saying that if he didn't hurry back, i was going to rip her throat out because i had had enough. unfortunately, charlie was too drunk to drive home. so i had to deal.

after that weekend, that suffocatingly dark weekend, both charlie and my sister were worried. this was the first time they had ever seen me this low. my sister continued on with her vacation and proceeded to tell everyone in spokane {my family} about what had happened over the weekend. and you can guess how rumors start flying and why i'm writing this post.

LET ME REASSURE EVERYONE

++ while PPD affects everyone differently, my experience isn't like theirs. nor is their experience like mine. i can only tell you how *I'M* affected and how *I'M* dealing ++

 i don't want to harm my children.

i don't want to harm myself.

i'm not crazy. or maybe i am, but i'm not psychotic.

i'm dealing. the best way i know how.

  i don't wallow in self-pity every single day.
and yes, i do still love my children.
and yes, i do still want to be a mother.
and yes, i do still want MORE children.

therefore...

don't call me everyday "just to say hey" {when really you're just checking on me}

don't offer to take my kids for a few weeks {because that doesn't SOLVE the problem. it temporarily removes to the problem}

don't look at me that way {like i said, i'm not psychotic}

don't assume you know how i'm feeling {ASK. because it changes every day, several times a day}

don't act like i'm not capable of handling anything {because i'm still the strong person i've always been, i just need help sometimes}

don't google post partum depression or talk to "that one friend of yours" who has suffered from depression and assume you know what it's all about {chances are, i'm not fitting into that "definition" or "experience"}

don't think you're better than me {because you're not. we're all wired differently and can handle things differently. you're not better, you're different}

currently, i'm getting calls left and right from family members who are just "calling to see what's up" and just "checking on me". they're constantly asking if i'm going to therapy and if it's helping any. i'm bringing the kids over for a week while i work on a photoshoot and have decided to let them stay for an extra two weeks while i whip this house into perfect shape {cleaning their room, hanging stuff on walls, getting rid of a LOT of crap} and they call everyday to remind me that they're going to be over there for MY own good. i have people telling me NOT to take medications, but offering natural herbal stress remedies. they constantly ask and make remarks about things i'm not getting done and how i'll "be able to get it all done once the kids are gone".  the list goes on and on. and my sister better be glad i love her. because this is annoying.

i'm not crazy. i'm just a little "sick" {for lack of a better term}. taking the kids away doesn't solve anything. i'm getting the help i need and that works. now back the eff off and stop assuming you know what you're talking about. jerks.

i made the call.

i finally called counseling services so i can beat this thing.

i'm tired of being sick. i'm tired of feeling like i'm not good enough.

i'm tired of not giving my babies what they deserve.

PPD...you're going down.

tonight.

{via}

"i drank too much last night."

this is a recurring thought lately. but i have to.

at least that's what i keep telling myself.

dealing with this shit is hard. and i'm so effing over it.

i know it's saturday and it's charlie's night to go out, but i really don't want to be here alone.

i'm scared.

it's two versus one...

and they always win.

always.

*sigh*

.............

be intentional.

stop. breathe. focus.

who cares if the house is a mess.

who cares if it's spotless.

what really matters here? 

i lie down on the freshly picked up living room floor with my littles and i play.

we pull down all the books from the bookshelf and read them. we play with the mini computer. we run around in circles and shake our booties to the music. 

we attempt to make dinner and end up ordering pizza. then throw a blanket on the living room floor and eat cheese pizza, bacon cheese sticks and hot wings....and pepsi.

we're wreckless. we're loose. we're nuts.

we play games where we chase each other with the blanket. we play the rollercoaster game with mommy's legs. we skype with grandma kia- where austin decided that name, no one knows. 

and when i'm just tired enough to want to check out.....

they grab books and toys and sit quietly in the corner. without prompting. 

quietly.

reading and playing with toys.

playing nicely.

they cuddle on the couch and give each other kisses.

they say their prayers and go to bed willingly. they're asleep in minutes.

and it's not always two versus one. sometimes it's 1+1+1 and we're the three musketeers. and it's nights like tonight that keep my faith alive. it restores my faith and belief in myself. it tells me that i am good enough, i'm a great mommy. and they're great littles. and we can do this.

i'm so SO grateful.

{via}

the stuff i don't want to talk about...but clearly need to.

one thing i never anticipated was life getting messy. i anticipated being busy and sometimes frazzled. i'd heard plenty of stories of how kids completely turn your life upside down and inside out. but i always figured i'd be able to handle it. i haven't been dealt the easiest hand in the game, but i've always been able to play my cards well and keep my poker face on.

but then i had kids. and then i had people depending on me. and i couldn't do it.

insert shame. insert regret. insert anger. insert sadness. insert all of these horrible feelings of failure and when i'd look to others for confirmation that i wasn't as big a failure as i perceived myself to be--- those people only confirmed my biggest fear.

i'm not cut out for this.

but there's nothing more that i want to be cut out for. i want to be good at it, but i just keep failing. at least that's how i feel. and when i feel that way, those feelings well  up inside me and they take. over. it's incredibly toxic. it's like a cancer. it starts out small and just keeps multiplying and growing and killing and causing destruction wherever it goes. 

currently, i'm dealing. every single day i feel this intense desire to run and run fast. these people don't deserve me. they deserve someone better. someone who can handle everything. they deserve supermom. not me. not some lady who fakes her way through everything with a plastic smile. i've even learned to crinkle my eyes so that it looks genuine. i'm the master at deception. most people would never know...but i don't want to fake it anymore. i want to be real, raw and honest. and i want to be better.

my name is Kiranda. and a year later, i'm still dealing with post partum depression. yes, it's gotten easier on some fronts...but some days it feels harder. it's always hard and it's always frustrating. but i know i'll eventually get better. 

ps. i'd like to thank Lauren from Me and Mine for inspiring me to write this after she posted THIS. 

eye-opener

{via}

tonight was a definite eye-opener. despite the fact that i had plans a week in the making, i was forced to cancel them because of stbe's inconsideration. *shrugs* what else is new, right? so there i was, facing a long night with two kids who spent most of the day screaming and whining and, even though they were tired, they were NOT going to sleep. sleep would show weakness. and as i've learned in the last year: one mama. two babies. whomever showed weakness would lose the battle. and these two will wear me out long before i wear them out.

i was on skype with my sister when the dad left. austin started crying immediately. bella was in my lap banging her fists on my keyboard and, after some coaxing austin brought his whining into the room. somehow he got over it and then bella started up again. and it has been this way all effing night. my favorite parts {yes, this happened multiple times} would have to be when bella would scream as if someone was beating the living daylights out of her and literally NOTHING i could do would help. so i just held her tightly, shh-ing her, and rocked her. i think i might've rocked more for myself than anything else.

it's just been a big eye-opener. i finally got them to sleep around 1am after lying there, feeling very sorry for myself, and feeling like the world was on my shoulders. truthfully, i still feel that way. i don't even feel mad. it's just a bunch of sadness. i'm sad that i made the choices i made, chose the person i did, and ended up here. and i really hate that i let myself get so far out of my comfort zone that relief seems too far away. i know it'll all end up okay. i can see the changes that'll make it better. i can literally taste and feel freedom...it's just getting there that's been the issue. i'm terrified. it's going to take something bigger than me and bigger than my support system.. it'll take the wonderful mercy of Christ. and my faith is big and strong.

i'm ready to put in the work and the effort to find that happiness i crave. but sometimes, like tonight, i have to cry. i have to throw a tantrum. then i need to pick myself up, dust off my shoulders, and stop feeling sorry for myself. tonight has been a huge eye-opener. and i'm ready. so bring it.

just can't shake it.

i don't know whether to attribute it to the weather, staying up late last night, disagreeing with the mister left and right or not being able to eat everything in sight...but i'm just not feeling right today. i still haven't come to terms that ppd is an illness and not just a "feeling". while i understand it perfectly well, i'm not sure i'll ever go DO anything about it.

i just know that i am tired. beyond tired. it's like exhaustion-down-to-the-bone tired. and i can't shake it.

at this very moment, i feel like i'm shrinking and everything is closing in around me. and i don't know what to do to keep from being crushed underneath it all. i don't want to cry, but i don't want to laugh either. smiling takes a ton of effort too.

i feel like i'll feel a million times better if the house would magically clean itself, or if dinner would be made when i walk in the kitchen. and i know a huge weight would be lifted if last weeks session would just edit itself. i can mentally see the huge list of everything i need to get done but i don't know where i'll find the energy to just do it. maybe i'll just keep napping.

and i know this post makes zero sense. so i'm done writing for now.

today started off with so much promise...

this is exactly how i feel today.

i keep finding things that make me happy

like skyping with my best friend,

tummytime with bellz,

hide and seek with austin,

dance parties with the kiddos,

editing and working on photography....all kinds of things.

but i just CAN'T shake the underlying sadness.

*sigh*

very real.

my name is kiranda.

and i suffer from post partum depression.

there. i said it.

now before you raise your eyebrows and run away screaming or pretend you don't know me or even before you plaster a fake smile across your face and say, "aww it's ok" but all the while have mean judgements passing in your head...just give me a minute to explain. 

fact #1- i don't think my children are demons.

i don't hate them them. not one bit. nor do i have daydreams and fantasies about harming them in any way. in fact, it's totally the opposite. even when they're at "their worst" i still want to comfort them and love on them. and they still make me the happiest woman ever. sometimes their crying does irk my nerves, but that's usually due to them crying over and over all night long or something drastic like that. still, i never want them to hurt or be harmed. never.

fact #2- i don't want to harm my husband or myself either.

trust me- no matter how bad it gets you'll never see a murder/suicide coming from my neck of the woods. i promise.

fact #3- i don't walk around with a cloud above my head all of the time.

for the most part, i'm a sunny individual. i love to laugh and smile and have a good time. so it's not like i'm walking around sulking all day.....most of the time.

any other misconceptions you have, just give me the benefit of the doubt okay. ppd is a blanket term and i don't fit all of the descriptions, but it's a very real problem that i'm dealing with and it has started to affect me on a physical, emotional and psychological level.

let me explain. what i feel is an intense amount of guilt. i feel like i should be doing it all and i should be doing it with a smile. my house is supposed to be clean. i'm supposed to cook healthy, balanced meals for my family. by now i should at least be halfway to my pre-both-pregnancies weight and then some. i should always have my laundry done and put away. i'm supposed to always look presentable and always be ready to host guests at my house. my husband should still see me as the foxy girl he married. i should be making him a priority. i should be active in church and attend every saturday or sunday. i should be making some kind of income to contribute to our house....these are just SOME of the expectations i put on  myself. and THAT'S the problem. i put these things on myself and then when i don't live up to my own expectations, i'm upset with myself. i can't deal.

ever since bella was born, i've been feeling down and distraught. understandably so, with her NICU stay and surgery and bouncing in and out of hospitals....having to ask when i can hold my baby and what is okay and what is not. then having my son go to the other side of the state for weeks at a time. then the constant juggling. work-school-career aspirations-family-friends-self. and at several points i've had mini nervous breakdowns. but for the last month or so, i've found myself saying "there is something wrong with me". at first it was in my head, then i kept muttering it and finally i've been saying it loudly. the answer has been floating around in my mouth for some time, but i've been too chicken to say it. and tonight, i said it for the first time.

it's because i was scared that once i said those words, i'd have to acknowledge it and face it. why oh why can't i just hide from it. or even more so, why can't i just snap out of it? that's been the biggest thing. for a long time, the naive me thought that depression was a joke. that if you felt that way, you could just snap yourself out of it. and that's what i've been trying to do. but it's not working. i've been walking around feeling like i'm trying to keep my head above water only to constantly be pulled under. that's the best analogy i can think of. it's like no matter what i do, i'll never be ahead...i'll never be in line...i'll always be behind...way way behind of where i need to be. over the last six years, i've been hyper-aware of self. my mental state, why i do things, where this has come from, why things manifest themselves while others do not, etc. so when i kept feeling "off", i knew that this was really becoming a problem. 

to say that i'm terrified is an understatement. i'm scared that even though i know what's going in, that it's not going to help. i'm afraid people will think i'm crazy. i'm afraid that when i ask for help, that it'll be met with wide, scared eyes...like any mis-step and i'll snap. i'm scared that people will look at and treat me differently. but i'm still me. i'm still loving, bubbly, mostly funny kiranda. i still love hard and laugh loud. i just have a lot on my shoulders and little support. so while i'm struggling and trying to overcome, please don't desert me. i still need your love....maybe even a little more. 

so yes, i have PPD and it's very real.

but i refuse to let it define me. 

i will beat this.