Postpartum depression. How to live if life has turned into hell?
And that's it! From the very first days, tears and snot began. I turned out to be completely unprepared for this: the cry is such that I want to run away from home to hell. So that no one can find me at all. Why is that??? If I only knew, I would think a hundred times before deciding on this step. This is worse than death. It is impossible to bear …
August, silence and … I stand on the balcony in our apartment and look at the sky. My favorite time is evening. This is the time when I belong only to myself, when I can talk to myself - hear what will open a new door for me in the space of silence …
I've always enjoyed watching the day end. How he makes the last breath and leaves, and with a new breath, night comes. I pick up a book and plunge into a new world of the unknown. My whole being shines with the joy of discovery and inner fulfillment. I live, I breathe, I love … That was until recently. A month ago…
I became a mother
And that's it! From the very first days, tears and snot began. I turned out to be completely unprepared for this: the cry is such that I want to run away from home to hell. So that no one can find me at all. Why is that??? If I only knew, I would think a hundred times before deciding on this step. This is worse than death. It’s impossible to bear.
I have not slept for a month, I have forgotten what solitude is. I can not take it anymore. He needs something all the time. During the day he does not sleep, on a walk he yells so that the whole city hears, and I, burning with awkwardness, run home. The weather is rubbish … The husband sits at the computer in the evenings and works (but this is not certain). And when he takes a nap, I’m ready to just kill him.
Every half hour at night, the child demands me. He wants me to take him in my arms and feed him, but I can't, my whole chest is wounded … there are such cracks that when he touches, I howl. Wild scream …
Today he is a month old, and I am standing on the balcony and crying - instead of the starry sky, I see a hopeless emptiness … I see neither the future nor the present … I don't know how to live on, because my whole life has lost its meaning. I don't understand why I should wake up and why I should go to sleep. Yesterday I grabbed my baby and started shaking. I shook him and yelled, as urine as possible: "What else do you want from me ???" And he is only a month old. What will happen next?
I am no more … There is nothing … Maybe I just died the moment he was born, and now I'm in hell?.. Or maybe I'm just going crazy?
Endlessly in silence, I am alone and you are alone …
This is one story … my story. And there are many of them. Only this is such pain, such depth that it is not customary to talk about it - it is scary to talk about it. You can be put in a psychiatric hospital for this, not to mention the elementary social resentment and censure. And how many more recently gave birth to women suffer from this ailment - postpartum depression.
Depression has a million faces. Increased anxiety and poor sleep, endless tears and a completely extinct look. An absolute loss of interest in everything and self-deprecation with a sense of guilt. Fear for your life, the life of a baby and endless horror from the hopelessness and severity of being. When you want to kill your husband with his idiotic ideas, your mother for her misunderstanding and useless advice, and most importantly, your child. For screaming. All time.
"Postpartum craziness" can pass quickly, each woman lives this period differently. Someone is easier, but someone … I'm talking about the most difficult case - when the meaning of life is lost, when there is impenetrable darkness around, when there is nothing ahead that can force you to take a step towards life … Instead, a woman walks into emptiness, goes nowhere … Without a single hope of salvation.
This is "sound".
At the height of reality and pain
The sound vector of the psyche is inherent in a very small number of people. This is a huge need for peace and quiet - so that you can look into the endless outer space of your inner world.
And then THIS. This endless cry with an absolute impossibility to concentrate on anything other than him. When the only desire inside is just to sit alone and think. Observe. Be silent … Do not run headlong when you hear the cry of a child.
I just want to BE. I want to throw him out the window sometimes, just as long as he doesn't want anything. And then there's nowhere to get away from …
Inescapable, unbearable … to abdominal cramps. Again, tears of powerlessness, because how to cope with this is generally incomprehensible. The feeling of guilt captures completely, enveloping in dense threads. Sometimes it seems to me that I am like a chrysalis that cannot turn into a butterfly. The feeling of guilt weighs heavily on me with the awareness of my own crime.
Guilt for the fact that the child needs a mother - and she simply does not exist. The guilt is that he does not have enough of my milk and it is so liquid that he is probably hungry all the time. Guilt for having a stomach ache and I can't help him. And most importantly, because I don't want him. I hate him sometimes.
For this I am simply ready to kill myself. Just kill, if only to reduce this unbearable pain a little. I don't know how to make everyone feel good. How is it that I am such a worthless mother. Disgusting sense of failure: I'm not a woman. All around are people like people, these mothers on the playgrounds are running around with their children, rejoicing, and I am ready to bury them all.
Feelings of guilt that I can't even be with my husband normally - I hate him too. He does not understand me, does not understand what is wrong with me. I hate myself for always crying and having no one to talk to. I am ashamed. Painfully. Scary … I can't do this anymore. And what about that … who should I tell?
Hope for …
On the balcony that evening, I wanted to die, for real. I thought that if I was gone, I would stop feeling it. This impossibility. Impossibility and incompatibility of me and this world.
Now I know what hurt inside me and was tearing me apart. I know about my psyche, throwing the sound vector, burdened with a sense of guilt. When there is no way to endure this pain. Pain and shame for the feeling of moral nausea in oneself from the seemingly coming happiness. When they envy me, because outwardly everything is in order, but I can't breathe. I just want no one to touch me. At least not for long.
I talked to young mothers - yes, they also complain, but they don't feel anything like that. How can I tell them about my monstrous thoughts? I always feel different from them. And then there's this … And that makes it even worse.
I was saved by the fact that at some point the child started sleeping during the day and I had the opportunity to sometimes be alone. In silence … But nevertheless, one and a half years were a living hell. I lived on the machine day after day, like a robot. And I wanted to die.
Sometimes it happened that the condition improved. It seemed to let me go. But in general, all the while, as if some kind of vacuum. The aching pain and constant craving there, into silence and emptiness, did not leave me. Throughout the entire time I was in my thoughts, somewhere there …
I woke up when my life almost collapsed: I was left alone with a child - my husband left me. Our family could not stand it, and I think that the state of my pain played an important role in this. When you are somewhere there, you are definitely not here … And who can withstand this coldness and indifference?..
I was saved only by the fact that I got acquainted with “System-vector psychology” by Yuri Burlan. A close friend of mine went through difficult times and difficulties with her older child. She looked for a way out and found it here. And at some point, she just sent me an article.
It was pure hope. I listened to Yuri's online training, delved into, listened, cried, sobbed, howled … I understood my conditions and the reasons for their occurrence. The sound vector not filled with meanings required implementation, but I did not know anything about this before and did not know how to help myself before the training.
Motherhood is a serious test for every woman, but it is much more difficult for a woman with a sound vector. And only the training helped me and other mothers stay HERE.