I found a group. Not the same as before, but something to try, that is more targeted. PPD is serious, my friends. And I didn't realize this is the problem now (yet again). My hormones are a wreck and I've been trying to self-medicate; that's what a lot of this has been. I thought that ten months in, PPD wouldn't be an issue, but it most certainly is. I realized this when, two nights ago, my daughter wouldn't stop crying for four hours. I couldn't figure out what was wrong, and my nerves were torn to shreds. I yelled at her. God. I had put her down on the bed and looked at the pillows above her head, and terrifying thoughts began. I can't even write about them without such shame. I decided that I needed to get away, and I went to the basement where my husband was sleeping and wanted to ask him to take over, but he was so peacefully asleep, I just couldn't get myself to wake him. So, I went back up and became very stoic and detached and closed my mind to her cries and tried for the hundredth time to rock her to sleep. Luckily, dh had heard me coming downstairs and raced up to the nursery to see what was going on. He took over and I went to the basement and cried. My fury and anger scared me. I was afraid I had ruined her. I thought for the hundredth time that I should take my own life to protect my daughter's.
He told me I need to get help. I know this. And I am.
How can it be that I love her so much, but I still have these thoughts? She is the happiest, cutest, sweetest baby I could have imagined. What is wrong with me? No, I am not handling motherhood gracefully. I hope she doesn't remember. I want the best best for her, despite myself. Dh warned me that he will take her away if he must. Dh's loyalty is to our daughter, he made that perfectly clear. And I am glad she has such a father. Me, I'm just a wreck and what I need to do is get back on schedule, with work and meetings and talk to my psychiatrist about adjusting meds. I am really scared sometimes.
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