It’s been a while since I last wrote. That is not good. But the truth is, I haven’t had much to say. I’m secretly obsessing over my latest podcast. Tracking listens. Prowling social media to promote it whenever I can. And I just plugged it here too! For the win! But there is a beast lurking in the shadows: my battle with post natal depression
I started a word press blog during my first stint in hospital. I was hospitalised with post natal depression. This blog has been a form of therapy in itself. A space to vent. I recently celebrated six years of sobriety. The alcoholic variety. And I have been counting my blessings. I have taken time to spend with hubby. He had been instrumental in me coming to a realisation about my drinking.
And I know I wouldn’t be here right now, writing this blog and righting the wrongs of my past. I confront myself daily. It’s not easy. And I get bogged down with depression – the dark dog – every now and again. But I’m working on healing with Hymie and the Resonance Repatterning. And it’s working for me. I am in a good place. A happy place. With all its ups and downs.
Life is as complicated as it is simple. You have to put in the effort to change and become the change. But, at the same time, you are constantly reminded why you actually need to work on yourself. I do the best I can and am learning to forgive myself. Alot of the self criticism comes from being a mother.
Don’t compare yourself to others, the saying goes. There will always be somebody better than you and somebody worse off than you. So you will end up becoming vain and bitter. This is my toughest challenge. Other mother’s are more sensitive to the cries of their littlies. Whereas, I dragged my daughter to Sunday School as she cried for her daddy. Real tears. And I didn’t bat an eyelid.
Does this make me uncaring as a parent. Rationally, no. There was no physical threat that I needed to save her from. She just wanted daddy. And daddy walks a bit slower than mummy. No harm, no foul. But this is the type of event that I would use to beat myself up over. I would tell myself that I have no business being a mother.
And then I would humble myself, as I’m forcing myself to do right now. Remembering that the Good Lord chose me to be #BabySesame’s momma. And I’m the best momma for her. She knows I love her, because I tell her every chance I get. That’s the best gift a mom can give her children, to show them love. I am enough and I am good enough for Baby Sesame.