Depression hasn’t exactly made me the most reliable friend, sister, daughter, or partner. In fact, it often pulls me away from those I love the most. I find myself retreating to a quiet corner of my home – usually the bathroom (why is it always the bathroom?) – hiding behind locked doors. There, I curl up on the cold tile floor, surrounded by darkness, with an unwashed towel draped over me.
I isolate myself from everyone and everything, and by the time I come back to reality, the damage is often done: harsh words have been exchanged, and tears have been shed. Yet, amidst all this, I have discovered one silver lining: my experience with depression has made me a better mom.
Let’s be clear: parenting while battling depression is no small feat. It can feel nearly impossible. I often find myself forcing smiles and struggling to maintain composure. When my daughter has a tantrum or refuses to wear her diaper, my anger can bubble to the surface, and I teeter on the edge of frustration.
Lately, she has taken to flinging her food and swatting my hand (or cheek, if I’m too close) when I tell her that such behavior isn’t acceptable. It takes every ounce of willpower to transform that anger into tears instead.
Even during our calmer moments, like enjoying a walk to the park or cuddling on the couch watching her favorite show, I face challenges. The silence can be deafening, sending my thoughts racing and spiraling into anxiety. It’s during these times that I feel both near and yet incredibly distant from my daughter, who is nestled on my lap, her head resting against me.
However, days when I’m not in the grips of depression are much different. I’m loving, engaged, and ready for adventures – from blowing bubbles to coloring outside the lines (I color dinosaurs purple and the sky green because I can!). On those days, I embody the selfless, quirky, and funny mother I aspire to be.
So how does depression contribute to my growth as a mom? My struggles have taught my daughter the importance of an apology. She learns accountability, forgiveness, and that it’s okay to seek help and express emotions. Through my ups and downs, she witnesses behaviors that I regret, but rather than letting that burden me with guilt, I choose to embrace these moments as teaching opportunities.
I’m learning to share my feelings instead of shutting down. I’m opening the bathroom door, letting her see that it’s acceptable to not always be okay. I’m teaching her that my struggles with mental health are not her fault, and that sometimes, mommy just needs a little extra love.
I’m also understanding that apologizing for my actions doesn’t equate to apologizing for my mental health condition. Living with depression is not what I envisioned, but it’s part of my journey, and I’m navigating it the best I can.
So, dear depression, while you may complicate my life and motherhood, I wouldn’t change this experience. You’re shaping me into a more compassionate parent, and more importantly, you’re helping my daughter grow into a kinder human being.
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