The Day has arrived

I am so freaking nervous about today. Today is the day that my treatment really begins, medication aside, psychological assistance is what is really going to help me.
This morning, it's off to the GP to create a Mental Health Care Plan. This afternoon, my first psychologist appointment.

It's not the first time I've been through this, but I'm coming from a blacker place this time and there is so much more at stake. I need to conquer this for the sake of my Little Miss.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Rock Bottom

The last two days have been two of the hardest ever.

On the way home from the shops yesterday, as I attempted to stop Penny from chewing her new shoes and grew increasingly frustrated, I started to fight back tears. When I got home, I walked into the kitchen to get a bottle ready for her. Instead of doing that, I slid to the floor and started sobbing. Huge tears fell from my eyes and horrible dark thoughts flooded my brain. I contemplated asking a friend to come and take Penny for a couple of hours so that I could have a break, but decided against it. I needed her here to save me. To remind me why I need to be here.

 

I filled my night with distractions and fell into bed completely exhausted.

When I woke up this morning, I knew that I couldn't wait another day to speak to a professional {I had already decided that I would see my GP on Monday}. I tried calling friends, but to no avail. Then I received a Facebook message from a friend I had plans to catch up with, and in a state of desperation I asked for help.

She came over, the tears began to flow again, and I somehow kept it together enough to get us ready and off we went to hospital.

As we did laps around the hospital trying to find the carpark, I started to wonder if I should bother speaking to someone today, or if I should just wait to see my GP. I didn't speak up though. I knew I had to do it.

We walked into the Emergency Department and I felt so foolish. I stopped and started to cry again. Wondering why I was there, what I was supposed to say, and if they'd bother to help. My friend spoke to Reception for me, and luckily the wait wasn't too long. It was damn hard though.

Speaking to the Triage nurse, once again I wondered if they'd bother to help. As I sat and waited again, this time for the doctor, I tried to find some sense of normality. Again, the wait wasn't too long, and off I went to speak to the doctor.

I don't know how I'm not completely dehydrated with the amount of tears I have shed lately. As soon as the GP started talking to me, I sobbed. She asked confronting, but necessary, questions and I was ashamed of the answers I gave. Honest as they were, it was hard to admit that to someone.

Fortunately she was a really lovely doctor. Looking at my symptoms and my past history of depression, she advised that I am very high risk for Post Natal Depression (PND). I knew the 'D' word would be said. I'd tried to fight it, but it was useless. Depression has been a part of my life on and off for close to 10 years now. 

The plan of attack from here is for me to see my GP {who fortunately specialises in mental health} and have a long chat to her. From there, it'll be back onto anti-depressants, and an assessement to begin a Mental Health Plan and see a psychologist.

It's going to be a long, hard journey. I know that. I have to do it though. I have to find the strength. For Penny.

I know I can do this. I know I can fight. I'm sick of fighting to get somewhere, but with the right help, I know I can do it. I can conquer this. 

I accept that depression is a medical condition that will be a part of my life for many years to come. I just need to treat it, rather than try and deal with it on my own. 

My daughter is my world. I will do this for her. And in turn, for me.

Growing Up

I'm certain my Little Miss gets more independent as each day passes. I remember how it felt like she'd grown up so much when she started holding her own bottle, and at the time, I liked being able to leave her to it but now, admittedly, I do miss the cuddles I'd get while feeding her.

She barely notices me leave when I do daycare dropoff, 'Sure mumma, whatever, I'm just going to hang out with my friends'. Then yesterday, she decided she wanted to grow up just that little more. As I held her in one arm and her backpack in the other, she grabbed for her backpack. Her carer and I laughed that perhaps she wanted to wear it, so I put it on her and the look of pride on her face was priceless! She delighted in wearing her backpack, sitting on the bench at the bus stop and then on the bus, I decided to see how she'd go sitting beside me rather than on my lap. Best idea ever! No wriggle bot on my lap, just a big girl snuggled into my side {still wearing her backpack} who actually nodded off during the trip. Bless.

Confession

My last post was all about acceptance, and it's true, I do accept who I am and I'm happy with who I am. Days like today, however, it's a struggle.

While I value my time to myself {a lot more these days than I ever used to, probably because it's so rare} I don't handle loneliness well.

I live in a city. I have friends who live in the same city. Yet I feel like I'm trapped in a bubble of isolation and that my only communication with them is via social networking or email.

I feel like this ongoing struggle is a battle of me vs. the world, as I fight to get what my daughter and I deserve, and my strength is waning.

Sure, I have great days. Positive days where I won't let anything get me down, but then the high goes and I'm left feeling low and like I want to give up. I won't give up, I can't give up, but I hate feeling like I'm the only one pulling me back up.

Not being the type of person who will ask for help until it's almost too late, it makes it so hard being so alone. Having no partner in crime, someone to bounce ideas off, someone to cry to, to vent to, to just be with.

The other night, the idea popped into my head that maybe I should move and try for a fresh start. After all, the only thing keeping me in the city I'm in at the moment is my job. Big whoop. But fcuk it hurts that that's my only reason for being somewhere. 

I feel lost. Like nowhere is 'home'. My options would be to stay where I am and keep fighting, move interstate and try for a fresh start, or admit defeat for a while and go back and stay with dad.

Yesterday, I decided that the best option would be to just stay where I am, keep fighting, then reassess at the end of the year. I was confident in that decision. Now? I ust don't know. How do I know that things will improve? How do I know that I have the strength to just give it a go? I know I can make it work, I've somehow made things work so far, right? But why can't that be enough to make me confident to do it?

I confess: I'm lost, I'm lonely, and I need help.

Acceptance

I've battled a lot with my self-worth/self-esteem/self-confidence over the years. It's taken a lot of time and tears to get where I am today, and despite certain feelings that pop up from time to time, I am happy with where I am.

I accept who I am, the choices I have made, the path I have taken. I am proud of who I am today, despite not always being proud of the choices I have made, and despite hitting potholes along that path that at times seemed so overwhelming I wasn't sure that I would find a way out.

If I focus on the positives in my life, I can accept where I am and take strength from knowing that the I can rid myself of the negatives, it'll just take some time. Sure, I get damn sick of fighting for what I want, and at times it doesn't feel like the battle is worth the reward but I let myself cry those tears that need to be shed. I let the negative feelings out to allow more room for the positive. Sometimes that need arises more frequently, but so be it. 

I accept who I am. I accept that I am doing the best I can right now. I accept that I've fought hard to be where I am, and that in doing so, I can truly appreciate the happiness that I do have.

I think self-acceptance is important, much like self-love. If we don't accept and love ourselves, how can we let others truly do the same?

Surviving the First Year

In eight days, my little PNut will be one. She will move from babyhood, to toddlerdom. I'm scared, amazed, proud and in shock.

This time a year ago, I was blissfully unaware of what would happen in the very near future. I was going to work each day, going through the motions, experiencing a lot of tiredness, and happy with who I was and where I was.

This time a year ago, becoming a mother was definitely not on my radar. I was in a 'I wonder if I'll ever have kids' phase. I was accepting of my singledom, and ready to really enjoy life as Gemma.

Then things changed. Dramatically. 51 weeks ago today, I unexpectedly gave birth to an amazing little human who has changed my life in the most amazing way. She has grounded me, taught me to love as I've never loved before, made me appreciate life, and taught me to appreciate and be proud of myself.

Honestly, I find it hard to believe that I've gotten this far without giving up. I have come so darn close to it at times, but I push through it. My darling daughter reminds me that I can and will get through it, no matter how low I get, and no matter how hard it is to claw myself back out. 

It has been a blur of a year, I can barely remember 2010, but damn I'm proud of myself for getting through it, despite those low points.

I get a bit teary when I see my little girl asleep in her cot and realise she is becoming just that: a little girl {I'm tearing up as I type this!}. My teensy little baby who seemed so fragile and breakable, is now becoming a rambunctious, cheeky, independent little girl with a fabulous, bubbly personality. 

She takes everything in her stride. Sickness, time away from mum, meeting new people. She's amazing.

At the risk of sounding conceited, she's that way because of me. I am the person who she has seen every single day of her life. Who has nurtured her, fed her, changed her, bathed her, taught her, gotten frustrated with her, loved her, and adored her. So surely I've played some part in her developing into the gorgeous person that she is becoming.

I'm damn proud of myself for surviving the first year. I'm proud that I've ridden the rollercoaster, despite the temptation to bail at times. I'm proud that through all those down times, I've pushed and somehow found it within myself to 'JFDI'. There have been times when getting out of bed seemed like a massive struggle. When changing a nappy, or giving her a bottle seemed like far too much effort. Yes, even those small tasks were so bloody hard at times.

Mostly, I'm proud of my daughter. I'm proud of her for being an absolutely adorable little girl who has a beautiful beaming grin that can light up anyone's day. 

So in 8 days time, as I wish my baby a happy birthday, and welcome her into the world of toddlerdom, I'll give us both a pat on the back for surviving the first year and heading into the second with smiles on our faces.

x

Slack Again!

I really must set myself a weekly date to blog!

In the two and a bit months since my last post, it's been an interesting time. I've encountered housemate issues, had a wonderful Christmas holiday with Miss Penny, gained a new friend who I've already created wonderful memories with, and the daycare/work days have begun.

I'm surprised at how well things are going with work and daycare. We have our routine sorted, and it's working really well so far. Granted, we're only in week two, but hey, if the first week was a success that's a good thing, right?

Penny LOVES daycare. I wasn't too concerned with how she'd handle daycare, because she's such a happy, sociable little girl. We can't even go on a short busride without her trying to make a new friend. With those big, blue eyes and a gorgeous, beaming, three-toothed smile, she's already showing me that she's going to be a bit of a handful when she's older and trying to get away with everything and anything. Bless her sweet little self.

The carers and parents were surprised on Penny's first day - they couldn't believe how well she handled it. That's my girl though :) 

Work was a bit of a pain at first, as they hadn't properly prepared for my return I.T. wise, and since I'm the first of the mat-leavers to return, I was a bit of a guinea pig. Almost everything is good to go now though, so now it's just the issue of getting me trained up.

Currently, I'm only working three days, but am already considering increasing that to four days. As much as I love my long weekend, I feel I'd be more productive if I worked four days. Also, the way my week is structured at the moment is a bit annoying: three day weekend, work one day, have a day off, work two days, repeat. I think I'd prefer two days on, one day off, two days on, but I won't jump into it just yet. I'll give it a little more time, and also continue to keep an eye out for an alternative role - one that's a little more family friendly, as I'm only able to work my shorter hours until July, after which they may need me to go back to normal hours which is impractical.

Penny is such a gorgeous little girl who is getting too darned grown up! In just over two weeks, she'll be one. I cannot believe how fast that year has gone! 2010 was such a blur, but a good blur, because it brought me my baby girl.  She crawls around at lightning speed, pulls herself up on any furniture she can reach, and is getting very stable on her feet. It won't be long before she's standing unassisted, she's already trying it! I don't think walking will be too far away either, she's pretty confident taking steps if I hold her hands.

We've also been very fortunate to avoid the crazy weather that's hit Queensland. Just a few days before the floods hit Brisbane I was cursing the fact that I live in a hilly area, because the morning walk was a killer on the legs! I was soon thankful though. We didn't cop much of the weather at all, despite being less than 10km from the CBD. So surreal.

And as it turns out, the floods brought a big dose of happiness back into my life. After they'd hit, I contacted an old friend as he lives in one of the suburbs that was hit. It was just a text to say that I hoped he went okay in the floods, but from there we decided to catch up, and it was a fabulous decision. It turns out we'd both been thinking about contacting each other. I'm so very glad that I did find the confidence to send the text, even though I didn't necessarily expect a response, and for things to eventuate wasn't even on my radar, but life has a funny way of sorting these things out. 

The housemate issues are still existent, not quite as bad as they were when they first reared their ugly head, but enough for me to be desperate to move. It saddens me that Penny is nearly one and yet to have a proper home, and it frustrates me somewhat that I've been sharing a room with her for almost every night of that time. Mumma needs a little space!

I'll keep my chin up, and try not to let the negative take control. It's time to focus on the positive and keep a smile on my face!

x