I don’t want to write this out. Writing it makes it real. I want it to just be my imagination. I want to keep it as a passing thought each time I have to wake in the night for the kids. Wouldn’t it be easier to just not say anything about the numbness inside, the feeling that something is wrong and it must be all my fault.

But keeping it to myself isn’t fair to my husband, who just wants me to love myself as much as he loves me. It wouldn’t be fair to my kids, who just want their fun, happy mommy and not one that yells so much.

It’s been creeping into my every-day for a while now. It doesn’t just show up all at once. It’s been 6 months. Some days are better than others and so it can be misleading…having me think maybe nothing’s wrong really.

Postpartum Depression. Such an ugly label in my mind. I’m stronger than that. Right? I can rise above. I can do this. I’m not a whimp. My faith can carry me through. I can do everything my other mom friends are doing. I can handle it. I…I…just can’t.

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I can see my normal, bubbling, sarcastic, laughing, silly, fun-loving self. I see glimpses of her. I remember her. Why can’t I get back to her?

Snap out of it! Just don’t feel this way. Exercise more. Take more vitamin B. Get more fresh air. Talk about your feelings. Read your bible more. I try. I promise you, I swear, I do. I try it all. And it does help for a time. But it’s still there in end. That haze.

The fog of sadness disguised as frustration, anger, numbness, un-motivation, forgetfulness, and anti-social disgust. 

Postpartum Depression. So common and yet I feel so ashamed. I love my baby. I love my kids. I love my husband. I love myself.  But with it, it’s impossible to control how I feel or, sometimes, to even feel anything at all.

 I feel like a failure. I feel weak. I feel overwhelmed. I feel defective. I feel like an outcast. I feel alone.

Now that I’ve said it. It’s real. It’s right in front of me and it’s ugly and not fair. But at least now I can get help. I feel lucky to have a few very supportive and understanding friends, along with my mom, and my husband.

I’m just tired of it defining my life. You can’t have me or my mind anymore you bastard. I’m gonna fight back. Not by my power, because right now I have none, but with the love from my loved ones, God, and the knowledge of those that have trudged this road before me.

I can’t be embarrassed or ashamed anymore. I have to be humble and brave all at once. For my kids. For my husband, my family…for me.


I luckily don’t have extreme PPD and so I don’t have every one of these symptoms. (Like not connecting with my baby or wanting to harm myself or my kids.) But if you have any of the following, please seek help for your sake and the sake of your kid(s). It is SO common and IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!

So…If you are wondering what postpartum depression looks like, here are some symptoms: 

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You may [also] have postpartum anxiety or postpartum OCD. For a more complete explanation of PPD and PP anxiety/OCD, this is an extremely accurate and easy to understand article.

You ARE NOT alone. 


The morning after this post is here.


3 thoughts on “Defective 

  1. Pingback: Hold Me – Oh, For The Love…

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