Updated: September 19, 2017
Originally Published: January 20, 2015
A few months back, I found myself spiraling out of control. I don’t say this lightly; I genuinely felt like I was losing my grip.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve battled with feelings of depression and anxiety, which I initially dismissed as typical teenage angst. Over the years, I learned that these feelings were simply part of who I am. While I could often navigate my way back to happier times, the anxiety lingered—something friends and family would often brush off with suggestions to “just relax” or “get some sleep.” Yet, the reality was that these reassurances didn’t alleviate my anxiety.
Recently, however, I noticed a significant uptick in my negative emotions and anxiety levels. Each day felt heavier, and I struggled to make sense of even the simplest situations, let alone major life decisions. Everything became overwhelming.
Sleep eluded me. As I prepared for bedtime, anxiety crept in, leaving me worried about what the next day would bring or whether I’d even be able to sleep. Over-the-counter sleep aids were ineffective, and the more I fought for rest, the more I found myself in a downward spiral.
I began to snap at my kids over trivial matters and found myself retreating to their room just to escape the chaos. The weight of keeping two toddlers entertained and happy felt unbearable, and I couldn’t manage it any longer.
A couple of weeks ago, I reached my breaking point. My partner had to work on a Saturday, leaving me alone with two energetic toddlers who refused to nap. Logically, I knew they would eventually tire out, but in that moment, I was ready to give up. I considered hiding in my room and letting them have the run of the house while I shut down. I just wanted to crawl into bed and disappear.
Thankfully, I mustered enough clarity to reach out to my husband and ask him to contact his mother. I felt too ashamed to do it myself, embarrassed that I couldn’t handle my children. I needed her help for a night or two, recognizing that it was in everyone’s best interest for me to step back for a bit. She gladly stepped in, allowing me to recharge.
In addition, I reached out to my doctor, who prescribed some medication to help me through this tough phase. I’m happy to report that after a few weeks, I began to genuinely enjoy my time with my kids again—something I hadn’t felt in a long while.
I’m gradually rediscovering myself. While I don’t plan on relying on medication indefinitely, I understand it’s necessary right now to help me regain a balanced perspective. It’s a relief to know that my children napping doesn’t have to push me into despair.
I share my story to encourage anyone who might be struggling to seek help. Asking for assistance doesn’t signify weakness; it reflects strength. The courage to reach out for support can equip you with the tools needed to be the best parent possible. You don’t have to do it all alone, and no one should expect you to.
I found the strength to ask for help, and I hope you can too. If you’re looking for more insights on home insemination, check out intracervicalinsemination.com. For those considering artificial insemination, Make a Mom offers excellent resources. Additionally, for more information on infertility, Mount Sinai is an invaluable resource.
In summary, it’s crucial to prioritize your mental health as a parent, and seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness.